MID-YEAR REVIEWS: Everything Old Is New Again

I've had a few CDs sent to me for review this year, plus a couple more that I bought over the past few months. So, I am breaking in here mid-year to do some, ummm. . .uncompensated infomercials, I guess you might call them. This highly subjective short list does not scratch the surface of recent New Orleans releases. So, as always, I encourage you to do your own homework on the output of current New Orleans bands - since you might have noticed I cover mostly old, out of print vinyl - and purchase their products, go to their shows, keep 'em alive and thriving. Offbeat has plenty of gig listings, reviews and features in the magazine and online; or check the new releases at The Louisiana Music Factory, a business I regularly link to and plug because Barry Smith and his krewe have been representing the local music scene fairly and faithfully for 17 years now, hanging on by their fingernails through the Katrina disaster, while the indifferent corporate giants have come and gone. At least one cut from each of these albums will soon be in rotation at HOTG Radio. Now, on with the subjects at hand:

Wild & Free, The Radiators, Radz Records, 2008 - This great two CD set of rarities issued last year to celebrate the Radiators' 30th anniversary was sent to me by their label just a bit too late for my mini-reviews of 2008 releases this past January; but I have been diggin' on it in the meantime. Since I have covered the Rads a couple of times before, you regular readers (I use the terms "regular" and "reader" very loosely), may recall that I have been a fan of da band since their first year or so together, when I just happened to catch them playing at Tipitina's on one of my trips into town, either late in 1978 or early the next year. In my first powerful dose of their diversely influenced yet original brand of improvisational roots rock, I was reminded of the Band and Little Feat, while hearing a creative San Francisco Sixties kind of vibe interwoven with the real-deal organic essence of funky New Orleans R&B and Southern soul. Mightily impressed, I immediately jumped on board that night and let their impeccably played gonzo musicianship take me for a wild ride. Through the steamy, hazey air I swear I saw the walls of Tips literally rippling rhythmically with the intense waves of sound. OK, I admit I was contributing to that haze, but, still. . . .

In the spirit of experiences such as that, this CD offers some amazing sonic artifacts from back in dem days, including several live performances captured on singer/pianist Ed Volker's Akai reel-to-reel in 1978 at Luigi's Pizza, where they had a weekly gig, and at Tip's in early 1979 (I could have been at that one!). Listening to those is like time-traveling; and I'm reminded how solid and in the zone this band was from the start, already possessing their distinctive sound on Volker's ever-growing treasure trove of original tunes. The recording quality on the earlier live stuff is nothing short of miraculous, considering three decades of water under the bridge, with some literally spilling over the tapes, which were good and baptized by flooding back in 1995; but like the band, they held together through it all and lived to play another day.

The material on these CDs captures moments in time spanning all of those decades and is heavy on live content, with over half the tracks recorded at local gigs and venues around the country. There are choice, previously unreleased studio cuts, too, including two from 1978 done at the legendary Knight Studio in Metairie, where Rads guitarist Camile Baudoin was an engineer. If you are new to the band, Wild & Free would not be a bad place to start to get a feel for what they have been up to all these years. As confirmed fans and tape-traders well know, the Rads have always been best experienced first-person, in performance, or at least captured in their on-stage element. It was no accident that their very first album was a two LP live extravaganza of down and dirty, sweat-soaked rhapsodizing, Work Done On Premises, recorded at Tip's in 1980 and issued on their own label at the time, Croaker Records (also highly recommend). Frequent attendance at their gigs across the land is also advised (as is hearing protection), because, guaranteed, you will never hear the same show twice, as they spontaneously segue through their bountiful repertoire of originals and hip, often surprising covers. A couple of hours of CD programming, no matter how choice, is only a barely reasonable facsimile, a mere whiff of the heady hard stuff that these road-veterans can dish out on any given night; but, turned up loud enough, it'll do just fine until they roll into town.

The Lost Southlake Sessions, The Radiators, Radz Records, 2009 - I waited so long to talk about Wild & Free, this one came in - so I've doubled up. Although the Radiators have made, recorded and sold music on their own terms for the greater part of their 30 year history, when these session were done, they actually had a record deal with an entertainment conglomerate, music videos*, national commercial radio airplay, and the possibility of breaking big. Between 1987 and 1989, the Rads recorded two of three albums for Sony/Epic, Law Of The Fish and Zig-Zaggin' Through Ghostland, mainly using the relatively new Southlake Studios in Metairie, LA. There, at various points during the late 1980s, they also cut a number of demo sessions - original material, mostly written by keyboardist Ed Volker - that went missing along the way amidst the comings and goings of a regularly touring band. As Ed told me recently via email through their Radz label, "A lot of tapes were lost one way or another from Southlake over the years. . . . This [the recently found material on the new CD] is all from a cassette we took pains to master; and it was an exploratory demo session, never meant for release, but the years have been kind to it, so we decided others might like to hear it, too." Excellent decision, fellas.

A stroke of luck uncovered the cassette; and, thankfully, the Rads saw fit to digitally re-master and release it, so that we all now have access to at least some of those lost sessions, 14 songs, to be exact. It's a kick to listen in on formative, yet focused versions of these tunes, a number of which were later recorded for official releases. And while the sound may not quite be master quality, the kick-butt performances on this CD certainly are. Shoot. Maybe they never meant to release these sessions commercially, but they certainly could have - maybe should have. Much of the masterfully played material was that strong. Instead, renderings of six of the tunes found on The Lost Southlake Sessions appeared in 1991 on the band's third, final, and, to me, most uneven Epic album, Total Evaporation (a title which perfectly summed up their deal with the label), recorded in Memphis with the legendary Dixie Flyer, Jim Dickinson, producing. Of course, that ship has long since sailed and sunk; but it seems now that the album could have benefited by using more of the songs from that lost cassette. Several more of them did eventually make it onto the Rads' later releases for various independent labels, including their own, and, of course, into the incredibly large reservoir of material they channel live nightly. Still, six of the songs here are new on CD, having never before appeared on a sanctioned Rads release.

Ultimately, I find this CD to be much more than just a cleaned up collection of old demos that only hardcore fans might want to hear. It merits a broader appeal. Volker is being too humble when he says simply that "the years have been kind" to the material. This music holds up incredibly well, still sounds fresh, and excellently represents the band's formidable session chops. Even within the limiting, insulated studio confines, they have always made compelling music together; but it is different from the feedback, spontaneity, and maximum energy of their wild and free on-stage experience, which will always be their true domain. There's much to enjoy from the Radiators either way.

* See 'em via YouTube: "Like Dreamers Do" and "Suck the Head"

Mindbender, Brother Tyrone, Joe's House of Blues, 2008 - Brother Tyrone came up on my none too finely tuned radar rather by accident, when I was doing some reading about the untimely death of the great New Orleans drummer, Wilbert 'Junkyard Dog' Arnold. Somewhere (how's that for journalistic excellence?) I saw that the last sessions JYD played were for this album. So, I had to check it out, knowing not much about Brother Tyrone other than having seen his name on listings around New Orleans before. Still, I kept forgetting to look for the CD when I was in town (I'm easily distracted), until, finally, I saw Tyrone on this year's Jazzfest lineup and made sure to be at the Congo Square stage that day and time. What a payoff. He and his fine band (most of whom played on this CD) kept me spellbound and grooving for the entire set of soul/blues tinged with funk. I could not believe that I had been missing such a stone soulful, old-school type singer for so long - why wasn't Brother Tyrone more widely known?

For the answer to that and more details about the CD, read Keith Spera's article on Mr. Tyrone Pollard at nola.com. Let's just say he's been keeping a low profile way too long, and is another example of the incredible musical talent nurtured in city's neighborhoods before Katrina tore them asunder. But, back to my impression of this album, which was produced by Everette Eglin, who also did the tasteful and tasty guitar work and wrote a number of the tunes. Mindbender is only Brother Tyrone's second CD (and like the first, Blue Ghetto, independently released), but it sounds like he has been making records for decades. Never over the top, the approach here hearkens back to the days of straightforward record-making in the South when all you needed was the right material, a great rhythm section, effective horn charts, and a singer at the microphone who could bring it all - no muss, no fuss, no gimmicks. Tyrone's vocals infuse the predominately blues-based songs on Mindbender with a genuine, natural, heartfelt soulfulness. My picks of the batch are Eglin's originals, all Katrina-related, "If You Ain't Cheatin'", a tale of post-flood separation and temptation, the funkified, wisely hip "When It's Gone, It's Gone", which manages to make seeing your record collection flushed out of your house seem funny ("There goes Albert King. He's too big to float."), and the poignant, in-the-pocket "New Indian Blues", that tells of Tyrone's deep connections to the people, places, and culture of the 6th Ward.

Besides the Junkyard Dog, who played the grooves fairly straight and to the point, and Eglin's expressive guitar tones on these tracks, other players of note are Marc Adams on keyboards - one of the city's best and a good songwriter, too (Tyrone does his deep soul "Can't Stop This Heartache"), and the always welcome Jack Cruz on bass, Wilbert Arnold's long-time groove partner in 'Wolfman' Washington's Roadmasters. The sparingly used horn section is unidentified. Tyrone partners with vocalists Sean C and Richard Dixon on a couple of tracks, and is righteously backed by two singers from the Gospel Stars, Rev. Mark Sandifer and Elijah Ott. Kudos, also, to engineer Mark Bingham of Piety Street Recording, who makes these tracks warm and inviting, with sounds that are real and richly textured - a feast for the ears often lacking in the digital domain. I hope this outstanding project bends some more minds and brings Brother Tyrone the prominence he deserves at home and abroad. He's still got time to make him some history.

Slither Slice, New Orleans Nightcrawlers, Threadhead Records, 2009 - Last and definitely not least on the list is this monstrous groove machine that manages to tie together top of the line playing, compelling, often intricate original jazz compositions, and the ultra-funky rhythms of the streets of New Orleans. The Nightcrawlers are a brass band with a difference and like no other in their hometown. Has it really been nine years since their last CD, cut live at the Old Point Bar in Algiers, and 12 years since their last studio recording? Guess they've all be busy elsewhere, as this group has always been the quintessential side project, its members vitally active at any given time in other groups - and, of course, there was that life-changing flood that sidelined everything. . . . After all this time, the line-up has changed somewhat, although the core of the group remains: trombonist Craig Klein (Bonerama, solo work, and more), saxophonist Jason Mingledorff (Papa Grows Funk), trumpeter Barney Floyd (New Orleans Jazz Orchestra, and more), and sousaphonist Matt Perrine (Bonerama, Tin Men, solo work, and you name it). Completing the group on Slither Slice and their occasional live gigs are Satoru Ohashi, trumpet, Brent Rose, tenor sax, Derrick Tabb, snare drum, and Terrence 'T-Bell' Andrews, bass drum. Various guests drop in on certain tracks, too, including drummer Stanton Moore and keyboardist Rich Vogel of Galactic, Alex McMurray of Tin Men, and guitarist Brian Stoltz of the Funky Meters and PBS.

I had been waiting for this CD since seeing the Nightcrawlers play an intense set at the French Quarter Festival last year (and this year, too) and hearing them say that they were getting ready to record much of the material they were playing that day; and Slither Slice lives up to my great expectations from start to finish. Cocktail music to chitchat over this is not, nor is it simply repetitive grooves, unison blowing, with a few perfunctory solos thrown in. An amazing amount of syncopated fire gets stirred up by their two drums and a sousaphone rhythm section. Add to that the complex, polyrythmic interplay and counterpoint of the assembled brass give and take, blowing, pumping, slurring, punching, gong new places in innovative ways; and you've got music that cannot be denied. Fun as it is, there is more going on than just one big throwdown funkfest of a party. This is music of substance, stimulating on multiple levels, freeing your ass, in George Clinton's dictum, for your mind to follow.

I think the Nightcrawlers have again raised the bar for brass band music in the city with this offering, in terms of musicianship and writing. Not since the Dirty Dozen were in their creative prime has a group taken the game to another level and smoked it like this. A funked up version of Verdi's Aida with a Caribbean feel? Even their one cover tune is outrageous.

Though not regular street paraders as a unit, the Nightcrawlers have distilled the unique essence of local brass band music, instilling the celebratory feel and kick with fresh, ingenious, and memorable tunes; and the evidence is Slither Slice, a project thankfully made possible with a production loan from the Threadheads. It could have come from nowhere else but New Orleans - where the new so often incorporates the old in surprising ways- and validates the sense that the spirit and cultural health of the city, as the band says, are gonna be alright, alright.

Longtime follower who have been with the band from their first two Rounder albums, New Orleans Nightcrawlers from 1996 and Funknicity from 1997, and caught their all too rare live dates, and/or that Live At The Old Point CD, will not be surprised by all this - just pumped; and if you have not been to the party so far, you can just jump into the second line right here, then backtrack later. It's attention grabbing stuff. People are going to talking about it and yeling for more. If these guys don't watch it, their regular gigs may soon become the side projects.

Nightcrawlers at FQF08 - photo by Dan Phillips

Shaking It Down For Michael

MICHAEL JACKSON 1958 - 2009

No matter how you felt about Michael Jackson's remarkable and frequently strange sojourn on Planet Showbiz, he undeniably had a huge impact one way or another on popular music, dance, and cosmetic surgery. As pictured above about age 20, around 1979 on the Off The Wall LP cover, this handsome kid had already been an entertainment powerhouse for at least a decade, and was just beginning a solo career after going about as far as he could with the family act, the Jackson 5 (a/k/a the Jacksons) , that he overwhelmingly dominated. He was writing his own material (some of which was really very good work) and would soon move units of product in unbelievably huge amounts through the music business pipeline, creating several of the largest selling albums in history, and becoming the King of Pop, a chimerical figure who over time conspired with compliant plastic surgeons to obsessively disfigure himself nearly beyond recognition (and Halloween), retreated to a ranch called Neverland, where he pretty much abandoned performing, hung out with children to the point of arrest and huge civil lawsuits, and, surrounded by various enablers paid never to say no to him, became a laughingstock and paparazzi wetdream, ever-promising the fabled comeback; and, it now seems, his longterm, hardcore drug abuse contributed to his ultimate downward spiral beyond the reach of anyone, ironically dying amid preparations for a dazzling multi-concert farewell to performing, which, as a result, has caused sales of his music to once again skyrocket. Death can be very good for your numbers. It is the peculiarly all too American success saga in all its tragic glory. I'm from Memphis. We had one one of those fame-outs about 30 years ago at a place called Graceland. . . .

What the hell does any of this have to do with New Orleans music? Blessedly, very little, really. The vast machinations of The Business have only peripherally touched New Orleans to such an extent; and, while we wish that all of the artists discussed at HOTG had attained at least some level of professional success and rewards, we really wouldn't wish Michael's trip on anybody. Give us Ernie K-Doe's charming, humorous, and (relatively) harmless megalomania, along with his late wife's community service, Fats Domino's downhome mega-sellers, Irma Thomas' bedrock genuine soulfulness, and Allen Toussaint's always classy career transformations - ANY DAY.

I'm not trying to demean Mr. Jackson here. He was talented in the extreme. But talent and fame can be a volatile mixture at best, a lethal one at the other end. It all just makes me appreciate the under-appreciated even more, as I crawl back under my rock to write about some of them. Talking with some people at work today about Michael Jackson's music, I got to thinking and realized I most dug Michael Jackson's work on Off The Wall, though I admired some of his other later tunes too. Then I recalled that the Rebirth Brass Band had covered one of Jackson's tunes from that period - it was actually on the Jacksons' 1978 album, Destiny (thanks to Brett for the heads-up) - in their early days. . . .


photo by Rick Olivier

"Shake Your Body Down to the Ground" (Steven Jackson-Michael Jackson)
Rebirth Brass Band, from Feel Like Funkin' It Up, Rounder, 1989
LISTEN

When Rebirth Brass Band recorded this classic record for Rounder, they were all just into their 20s, I think, except for the diminutive trumpeter, Derrick Shezbie, who was much younger. Started in the Treme neighborhood around 1983 by brothers Philip (tuba) and Keith (bass drum) Frazier, and trumpeter Kermit Ruffins while they were in high school, Rebirth were really one of the first of the new wave of young brass bands to emerge in New Orleans, inspired by the success and innovations of the somewhat older Dirty Dozen Brass Band, who had revitalized the brass band sound starting in the late 1970s. In 1984, Chris Strachwitz of Arhoolie Records recorded RBB live at the Grease Lounge and released an LP/CD of those performances, Here to Stay. Birthed in 1989, Feel Like Funkin' It Up was the first of five fine albums the band did for Rounder Records.

This album's selections were a mix of some of RBB's hot, funky original tunes, a few brass band classics from the tradition, Fat Domino's "I'm Walkin'", and oddly this Michael Jackson radio hit from the 1970s, reconstituted in the Rebirth blender. That the Jacksons' hit song translated remarkably well into the struttin' Crescent City street idiom, speaks well of both it's musical quality and the young band's chops for arrangement and blowing. It ends all too soon.

Playing in the band on this record were the Frazier brothers, Ruffins, Shezbie, John Gilbert (tenor sax), Keith 'Wolf' Anderson (trombone), Derek Wiley (trumpet), and Kenneth Austin (snare drum). The Rebirth today remain one of the premier local brass bands (and there are many contenders who have arisen since they got their start) and tour extensively. The Fraziers and Shezbie remain the core of the group, while Kermit Ruffins has gone on to have a very successful solo career - thankfully, not in Michael Jackson terms, but in New Orleans terms.

So, let's shake it down and do some buck jumpin' for Michael, an amazing musician and entertainer who got lost in his own funhouse. It's all about the music. Whether you are making it or listening to it, you should never forget that.

[Note: this cut will be only up here for a short time, before it is transferred to the HOTG Radio playlist.]

Catch Porgy Jones

Trumpeter and bandleader Warren 'Porgy' Jones is another New Orleans musician who has had a long career in (and out of) the city, but made very few recordings as a featured artist, and has never been well known to the world at large. On several occasions, I have mentioned him here in passing in relation to other artists. After Eddie Bo heard Martha Carter singing with Jones' band around 1960, he got her signed to Ron Records. A few years later, Jones met the young singer, Willie West, became his manager for a time, and produced two singles on him for Frisco Records.

It was also for the local Frisco label that Jones recorded his own debut single, "Riding High" b/w "Say Yeah", two instrumental sides credited to Porgy & the Polka Dots. I've had that and one of Porgy's singles from the 1970s in my collection for a while. After I recently acquired another of his 45s from the 1970s, the mighty, two-sided, "Dap", I checked my discographies; and, as far as I can tell, those three appear to comprise his entire catalog. So, I thought I would feature cuts from each and attempt to shed at least a little light on this player who has been a part of the local music scene for at least 50 years.



"Say Yeah" (Porgy Jones)
Porgy & the Polka Dots, Frisco 103, 1962
LISTEN

This single was the third issued by Frisco, which had just set up shop in 1962. Numbers 101 and 102 were by Al Adams, an alias for local DJ Harold Atkins, who also did promotion and A&R for the new label's owner, Connie LaRocca (originally from San Francisco), a restaurant cook with a passion for the music business. While Jones had been fronting a band under his own name for several years by that time, Porgy & the Polka Dots appear to have been invented just for this 45; and I am not sure if any of the players on it were actually his band members. The notes by Tad Jones to the useful Ace (UK) CD compilation, The Frisco Records Story, suggest that some of the musicians that Porgy used on his solo session were the same as used on his Willie West productions from around the same time: David Lee, Jr., drums; George French, bass; Alvin 'Shine' Robinson, guitar; Art Neville, piano; Clarence Ford, baritone saxophone; Eddie Williams, Jr., tenor saxophone; and, of course, Porgy on trumpet. So, any or all of them could have been on this session, too. The guitarist featured prominently on this cut sounds to me much like Earl King in his raw playing style and tone; but, after discussing it with Willie West, I think it is likely Shine.

To my ears, Porgy's debut 45 offered pleasant but rather generic R&B fare. I have chosen the rather bluesy B-side, "Say Yeah", as it is gritty and has a bit more going on rhythmically than "Riding High". Porgy managed to get off a few good runs; but this is mainly a guitar tune. Based on the common Popeye groove of the period, it had some syncopation going on in the kick drum, but was certainly no proto-funk masterpiece. Porgy's 45 obviously didn't particularly appeal to the public,as it failed to cause a stir, despite having a popular local DJ (Atkins) pushing it. No more commercially successful were Porgy's productions of his own original compositions sung by West, despite being musically much superior to this solo outing and having outstanding vocals to boot. So, Atkins and LaRocca brought in Wardell Quezergue to arrange and oversee West's only other Frisco single (which still did not sell); and Jones seemingly did no more work for the label in the remaining three years of its existence.

One more thing. Willie West has verified to me that Lee Dorsey wails, "Everybody say yeah", at the close of this side. Would that the whole tune had the soulful feel of those few seconds.

*****

In 1972, John Berthelot, who had recently started Great Southern Records in New Orleans, issued a press release* announcing that 'Porgy' Jones had been signed to "an exclusive long-term contract" and had a forthcoming new record, "Catch Joe Potato" b/w "Catch Me If You Can". Berthelot added that Jones had formerly been in the bands of Otis Redding, Joe Tex, Jerry Butler, and Curtis Mayfield. When the record came out, Berthelot issued a second publicity notice in which he stated that Porgy had "lived in his native New Orleans for the past five years performing with his own group at clubs. . .appeared at concerts in Jackson Square, on local television and numerous jazz shows. . .", and had "been voted outstanding trumpeter in New Orleans for the past two years in the Data Magazine Reader's Poll." Obviously then, Jones had been busy at home and on the road in the decade between his first and second releases. Now here he was again trying to break into what his boss at Great Southern termed the "R&B/Pop market".



"Catch Joe Potato" (Warren B. Jones)
Porgy Jones, Great Southern 103, 1972
LISTEN

First off, I have no speculations about the title. Its inscrutability rivals anything Eddie Bo ever came up with to call a record, which doesn't exactly make it an effective mainstream marketing ploy. I first heard the song, its flip, "Catch Me If You Can" (again with the catch), and Porgy's only other two Great Southern sides on the Funky Delicacies compilation, Jazzy Funky New Orleans, back in 1999; and, frankly, it took a while for this one to grow on me; but the groove finally won me over. Although the arrangement is uncredited on the record label, I have a hunch that it was by the producer, Berthelot, who was a jazz pianist and composer, as he arranged Porgy's later single for the label. Well played, a simple accompaniment of percussion, bass and snarling wah-wah guitar supports Porgy's trumpet work. Berthelot has the congas dominant and the drum set secondary, mixed so that just the hi-hat is evident throughout, the snare only really heard at the turnarounds, with no discernible kick drum. Porgy's riffing over this funky, percussive business starts off slow and deliberate; but, by halfway in, he is improvising and meshed rhythmically with the other players. I'd give it a B, 'cause the kids could have danced to it, had they heard it.

"Catch Me If You Can" was probably really the more marketable of the two, with an easy, breezy mainstream jazz/pop vibe; but nobody picked up on either side. In all likelihood, Berthelot had limited promotion and distribution options for his small independent label product; and the record failed to get to the national level. I'm not even sure if either side got local airplay (anyone remember this from back in the day?). Probably not much, since it would be several more years until Porgy got another try with a much more impressive Great Southern production.



"Dap (Part l)" (John Berthelot)
Porgy Jones, Great Southern, 1974
LISTEN

Dap (Part ll)
LISTEN

NOW we're talkin'! Porgy's second, and I believe last, Great Southern single took things to a whole other level of production quality: a powerful two-parter with an irresistibly uplifting groove, full horn section and instrumentation (guitar, bass, keyboard and percussion) and some great blowing by all concerned. The arrangement by producer Berthelot of his own hiply titled tune just knocked me back the first time I heard it and never fails to get me moving. The only difference in the two sides is the soloing: trumpet and organ take turns on the front, guitar ('Wolfman' Washingon, maybe?) and sax (possibly Alvin Thomas) on the back, with Porgy joining in again and gettin' kind of out there in a rideout duel with the sax. With its big band, Afro-pop meets Blood, Sweat and Tears kind of sound, this number is really unlike any other funk record out of New Orleans from the era that I can recall. No doubt, "Dap" should have made noise outside of the studio, too, but seems to have sunk without much of a trace; and I think Porgy's "long-term contract" with the label went with it, ending his career as a recording front man. Besides the Funky Delicacies compilation, this tune can also be found on the Soul Jazz CD/LP, New Orleans Funk, Volume 2, as well as for sale in the mp3 format. I highly recommend you go for the vinyl or CD and run "Dap" cranked through some decent full-range speakers to get the total impact of this impressive record - and clear the decks for some loose booty action.

Before I first acquired these tracks on CD, and then vinyl, I had known of composer/arranger/producer Berthelot mainly via his role as a label owner who sporadically released mostly LPs and CDs on Great Southern in the 1980s and early 1990s. I wasn't aware of his earlier funk productions or his compositional chops. I now have another instrumental single on Great Southern (#102) by flute and sax player Alvin Thomas, both sides written by Berthelot, that I'll try to get to in what passes for soon around here. And I'm wondering if there's anything else as yet undiscovered.

'Porgy' Jones has continued as a player and bandleader up to and beyond Katrina, which severely damaged his home. Besides the national acts John Berthelot mentioned that Porgy performed with, I've read that he also put in time with Ray Charles, who accepted no slouches in his band. Over the years, he has also backed a host of local artists such as Eddie Bo, Ernie K-Do and Earl King, and continued playing jazz, regularly performing at Jazzfest. In 2008, Porgy and a number of other legendary veteran New Orleans musicians such as 'Smokey' Johnson and 'Chuck' Badie, were honored by the Preservation Resource Center's African American Heritage Progam (AAHP). As Willie West told told me, assessing the talents of his longtime friend, who helped him get established on the local music scene over 40 years ago, "Porgy is. . .a great musician with still more to come from him, a soulful trumpet player and just as good or better than Wynton Marsallis or any other guy you could name playing today, certainly in the category of Miles Davis and Freddy Hubbard or any of the other jazz greats. Trust me. I consider him a brother. Great guy to work with."

Pretty impressive credentials, proving that Porgy has been a well-kept Crescent City secret for far too long.

* Berthelot's press releases are reproduced on the insert to the Funky Delicacies CD, Jazzy Funky New Orleans.

Respecting 'Red' Tyler

When we were in New Orleans two weekends ago for my step-daughter's graduation from Loyola (we're proud - and relieved!), my wife and I got a chance to go out that Saturday night and catch a tribute to saxophonist Alvin 'Red' Tyler, a free event at the Contemporary Arts Center put on by the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Foundation. Red, who passed away in 1998, was a talented, dependable constant on the local R&B and jazz scenes in town for some 50 years and was definitely overdue for some formal props. While living, this solid, humble gentleman was probably too much taken for granted, even overlooked, in his own hometown, not being a showboater, but rather a genuine ensemble player even as a leader of his own groups and on sessions. But the musicianship he displayed was always first rate. So, the high quality of performances presented that night at the CAC and the admiration and respect shown for Red certainly went a long way in making up for the 11 year delay in honoring him postmortem for his many accomplishments.

The evening was divided into music segments highlighting his R&B and rock 'n' roll session work as well as his long-time devotion to jazz. These were separated by discussions about and remembrances of Red by people who knew him well, such as jazz vocalists Germaine Bazzle and Ed Perkins, legendary musician and educator, Harold Battiste, and author, filmmaker, radio host and Breath Of Life blogger, Kalamu ya Salaam. Things began with a brief audio/visual overview of Tyler's career. Then the musicians took the stage. Performing over the course of the concert segments were a top of the line aggregation including drummers Albert 'June' Gardner and Johnny Vidacovich, bassists Chris Severin and George French, saxophonists Roderick Paulin and Thaddeus Richard, trumpet master Clyde Kerr, Jr., guitarist Steve Masakowski, and musical director of the program, pianist David Torkanowski (who also surprisingly got up during the rock 'n' roll segment and blew some pumpin' baritone sax!). Bazzle and Perkins also sang with the band, as did French; and all were outstanding. Most definitely, it was a memorable show that I'm glad we could attend. My thanks to David Kunian of WWOZ for hipping me to the tribute and suggesting that I do a post about Red. Duly inspired, I am more than glad to oblige.

STARTING NEAR THE TOP

From Harold Battiste's bio on Tyler in the well-done booklet included in his limited edition, four LP retrospective box set, New Orleans Heritage Jazz 1956 - 1966, I learned that Red did not play an instrument until he returned home from the service in the late 1940s, but had been fascinated by music since childhood, particularly jazz from brass bands to Earl Hines. Like many other musically inclined young WWII-era ex-enlisted men, Tyler used his GI-bill benefits to attend Grunewald School of Music on Camp Street in New Orleans. There he quickly learned the rudiments of the saxophone along with theory and arranging. In fact, Tyler said his studies and instrumental abilities came almost too easily for him. Soon after completing his courses, he was given the chance to play in the Clyde Kerr Band, which also allowed him entry into the musicians union. Clyde Kerr, Sr., an influential local musician and educator whose son later played regularly with Tyler, had a band full of serious players; and the experience of performing live in that company surely pushed Red to continually improve his skills. Union membership gave him the opportunity for other gigs and even some work on the road. Then, in 1949, he caught a real break when drummer Earl Palmer recommended him to Dave Bartholomew who had one of the most popular big bands in town. They were playing jazz and swing when Red joined, but soon began backing R&B singers such as Tommy Ridgley and Jewel King. Lew Chudd of Imperial Records had recently come to town and hired Bartholomew to scout local talent and produce records for the Los Angeles-based label; and, using his own impressive band, Dave began doing sessions on Ridgley, King, and the then unknown Fats Domino at Cosimo Matassa's first studio, a small room (10 x 12!) in the back of his record store, J&M Music Shop, on Rampart Street. That put Red in on the ground floor of the emergent New Orleans recording scene.

Those were exceptional times; and Tyler was off on a whirlwind of recording activity. In addition to tenor sax, he also played baritone, increasing his opportunities for horn section work, as more and more labels came to town to record and catch some that New Orleans magic. Much of the band on those early Imperial sessions became the core studio players in New Orleans R&B and rock 'n' roll for the next decade; and with them Red participated in countless sessions for various labels, backing Fats, Shirley and Lee, Lloyd Price, Little Richard, Professor Longhair, Paul Gayten , and Clarence 'Frogman' Henry, among so many others. What set those studio musicians apart was their ability to contribute creatively to each project, coming up with collaborative arrangements on the spot that gave the sides a fresh, innovative sound that helped change the face of popular music. Unfortunately, their arranging skills usually went uncompensated - but session work was plentiful and paid well enough that the players did not rock the boat to demand their due. Red was particularly gifted at those "head-arrangements" and was a valuable resource on most any session.

As Jeff Hannusch relates in The Soul of New Orleans, Cosimo Matassa referred Red to Johnny Vincent, owner of Ace Records, one of the first independent labels operating in New Orleans (though technically based in Jackson, MS). Vincent was looking for someone to oversee sessions and began using Tyler, who did a lot of work for the label in the later 1950s on an informal, ad hoc basis. After providing stealth production on records by the likes of Frankie Ford, Jimmy Clanton, Joe & Ann and even James Booker, in 1959 Red was given the chance to record his own instrumental LP for Ace, Rockin' and Rollin'. Vincent probably was spurred to do so by the success Tyler's frequent saxophone partner, Lee Allen, had with his 1958 single, "Walking With Mr. Lee", and album of the same title for Ember Records (which Red contributed to), plus Allen Toussaint, who had his 1958 instrumental debut LP on RCA, The Wild Sound of New Orleans by Tousan, and also utilized Red as a player and co-arranger/co-writer. Of course, there were plenty of other instrumental releases on the radio and in jukeboxes in those days by Bill Doggett, Ernie Freeman, Plas Johnson, and a host of others; and Red certainly had the chops to run in that company.

I've got several cuts up for auditioning and discussion from Red's own releases on Ace . But first, let's hear one of James Booker's sides that had Red's participation.

FROM ACE TO A.F.O.



"Teen Age Rock" (James Booker)
Little Booker, Ace 547, 1958
LISTEN

This was young Booker's third release on as many labels, having first recorded a single in 1954. at the ripe old age of 14, produced by Dave Batholomew for Imperial (#5293), and then one for Chess (#1637) in 1956, a duet with Arthur Booker [no relation], credited to Arthur and Booker and produced by Paul Gayten . When this 45 was made, Booker was still just 19 and the keyboardist in Joe Tex's touring band. Tex was based in New Orleans at the time and signed to Ace himself, doing rock 'n' roll more or less in the style of Little Richard. According to Hannusch in I Hear You Knockin', Tex suggested to Vincent that he record the always remarkable Booker; and a session was set up, probably with Tyler in charge. Supposedly, Booker was to do two versions of an instrumental he had written, with one side featuring him on piano and on the other side, organ, which he had not been playing all that long. That's how it was originally recorded. Before the 45 was mastered, however, Vincent seems to have had second thoughts and got Joe Tex to overdub a vocal on the A-side, "Open The Door". The resulting patch job, done in the days when overdubbing was a rather crude process at best, had Tex's vocal drowning out the band's instrumental backing, leaving Booker's piano hard to hear. The single was issued anyway, credited to Little Booker, which had also been the keyboardist's alias on Imperial. There was no mention of Tex on the label of "Open The Door". I've chosen to feature the more compelling flip side. Although it was Booker's first recording on organ, he really cut loose.

The appropriately titled, "Teen Age Rock" was a raucous little mover kicked off by Charles 'Hungry' Williams' seriously grooving solo drums. Frank Fields was on bass, Lee Allen on tenor sax, and Tyler on baritone. Booker hit the keyboard running, flashing some of his killer virtuosity and getting a great sound out the instrument. Not that anyone noticed at the time. I'm sure with the sonically impaired A-side, DJs dumped this record without even flipping it. Can't blame Red for that, though. Johnny Vincent was notorious for messing with perfectly good tracks. Hannusch relates that Booker took great offense when he heard what had been done and skipped out on his contract, soon leaving Tex's band, as well. A few years down the road, he got revenge of a sort, when he briefly wound up in Houston and recorded some fine instrumental organ sides for Don Robey's Peacock label; and, on the first release, the now classic "Gonzo" became a substantial hit on the R&B and pop charts. It would be Booker's only big record. Later in the 1960s, he recorded more organ numbers as part of Lloyd Price's instrumental project, This Is My Band. Booker had no more releases until 1976, when he made the solo piano LP, Junco Partner.

Meanwhile, as noted, Tyler recorded his own sessions as a featured instrumental artist for Ace in 1959, resulting in the release of two 45s and that LP I spoke of. While the music was not groundbreaking, Tyler cut a nice batch of mostly original tunes that were well-played and up to date contenders.



"Snake Eyes" (Tousant [sic] - Tyler)
Alvin 'Red' Tyler, Ace 556, 1959
LISTEN

There was some collaboration between Red Tyler and myself which was really terrific. He was really good at puttin' things together in the studio. He knew how the studio and recordings functioned so much better than I did at the time. - Allen Toussaint to Rick Coleman in the notes to The Complete 'Tousan' Sessions (Bear Family).

Long a favorite of mine, this thing is an unrelenting roller-coaster ride of a tune. Both "Snake Eyes" and the flip side, "Walk On" were co-written with Allen Toussaint and were likely unused material worked up for Toussaint's solo LP project on RCA from the previous year, mentioned above. I say that because the songwriting credits for these in the BMI database, show Toussaint as 'Al Tousan'. The sides were also included on Tyler's Ace LP, Rockin' and Rollin', from 1960. As Tyler told Jeff Hannusch, the players on his solo sessions were 'June' Gardner on drums, Frank Fields on bass, Justin Adams, guitar, Toussaint, piano, and Rufus Gore on second tenor sax. Other likely players on some tracks were James Booker on organ and Melvin Lastie on cornet. Of course, Tyler played both tenor and baritone saxes - though not simultaneously - and was the featured soloist.

While I do not have Tyler's original LP, I do have a reproduction of sorts from the mid-1980s released by the mighty UK re-issue label, Ace (no relation), Rockin' & Rollin', featuring all of Tyler's LP tracks plus a few other selected sides he produced for the US Ace label by Albert Scott, Joe & Anne, and Calvin Spears. In 1998, WestSide in the UK released a CD, Simply Red, containing all of the original Ace album tracks plus some alternate takes (with notes by Hannusch). It came out shortly after Red passed away; and it's too bad Red was not around to experience more people discovering his work.



"Lonely For You" (Alvin O. Tyler)
Alvin 'Red' Tyler, originally on Rockin' and Rollin', Ace 1006, 1960
LISTEN

Also one of my favorite Tyler compositions, "Lonely For You" has that classic '50s minor key, film noir soundtrack feel that conjures up shady ladies, perpetually wet streets, and cigarette sucking private eyes investigating the gray areas of a black and white world. As I've noted before here, I'm a sucker for that semi-sleazy musical vibe. Red did a nice arrangement on this; and June Gardner's drum work was effectively understated. During the period, Gardner played regularly with Tyler's jazz combo (Toussaint and bassist Peter 'Chuck' Badie were the other members) at the Joy Tavern, but would soon leave the city to join Sam Cooke's touring band, a gig he kept until Cooke's untimely death in 1964. Leo Morris (Idris Muhammad), who had been Cooke's drummer, briefly took Gardner's seat in Tyler's band, followed by Smokey Johnson.

In 1960, Vincent spun off a second Tyler 45 (#576), using tracks from the LP, "Happy Sax" and "Junk Village". But none of Red's Ace records sold all that well. He told Hannusch that he was too busy with sessions to do gigs to promote his singles - besides, when he wasn't recording R&B, he wanted to play jazz. By 1961, Red had left Ace, but continued his bread and butter session work for other labels. It was then that he was approached by Harold Battiste* with an invitation to join him and an outstanding roster of other African-American musicians who were starting up their own label, A.F.O. (All For One), to give themselves more creative control and better compensation for their recording work. Impressed by the idea and the people involved, many of whom were fine jazz players themselves, both Tyler and Badie signed on as founding members and began working with the other co-owners on various projects, recording Prince La La, Barbara George, Willie Tee, Oliver Morgan, Jimmy Jules, Wallace Johnson, Eddie Bo, and Mac Rebennack, among other. Meanwhile, Red revamped his Joy Tavern group, bringing in other members of the A.F.O. staff, drummer John Boudreaux, Harold Battiste on piano and alto sax, and Melvin Lastie on cornet. They called themselves the A.FO. Executives and had as their featured singer a young woman Red had discovered, Tami (a/k/a Tammy) Lynn, who performed a mix of jazz standards, show tunes, and R&B.



"Ol' Man River" (J. Kern)
Tammy Lynn with The A.F.O. Executives, from New Orleans Heritage Jazz 1956-1966, 1976. Originally on A Compendium, A.F.O., 1963
LISTEN

After playing together for several years and doing a bit of touring, the A.F.O. Executives recorded the album, A Compendium, in 1963 for their label. The LP contained many of their most popular nightclub numbers. "Ol' Man River" is an example of what they had to offer fronted by Lynn. It's a hip, syncopated swing arrangement that takes the tune far from Clichéville. Unfortunately for all involved, the label went under around that time, a result of a disastrous business deal involving the one big hit A.F.O. had, "I Know" by Barbara George, which was leased to Sue Records for national distribution. Sue principal, Juggy Murray, turned around and voided their contract out of the blue on a technicality and convinced George to sign with him, instead. The move deprived A.F.O. of it's major money-maker and closed the operation down in short order; and thus did a utopian music business dream dissolve. Disillusioned, the group hung together for a time and relocated to Los Angeles where Battiste had established contacts when he worked for Specialty Records and Sam Cooke. Those contacts allowed Battiste and some of the others, including Red, to do production, arranging and/or playing for Cooke's SAR label; but Tyler soon moved back home.

He started playing with pianist Ed Frank's band, but found session work less frequently in New Orleans. The recording business was changing - and where local R&B was concerned, not for the better. In the mid-1960s, Tyler, session guitarist/bassist George Davis, and Warren Parker started a production company, Par-Lo Enterprises. Their first major project was developing a song Davis and songwriter Lee Diamond had collaborated on, "Tell It Like It Is". They recruited singer Aaron Neville to record it; and the result seemed a sure-fire hit, except that they could not get any local or national record label to put it out. Undaunted, they decided to release it themselves on the Par-Lo label in 1966 and got Cosimo Matassa to handle it through his distribution company, Dover Records, which served many small labels. After giving popular local DJ Larry McKinley a cut of any publishing royalties, he started pushing the record; and it and caught fire around town, selling 40,000 in its first week of release, according to Jeff Hannusch. That amount of attention and demand caused the record to break in other markets and start climbing the charts, eventually becoming a #1 R&B record and #2 Pop, a crossover colossus that sold in excess of two million singles. Par-Lo/Dover rushed an LP out which also began selling. But....you may know the story here....in their success were the seeds of their demise. Dover was distributing the records as fast as possible, trying to keep up with demand, shipping them on credit to middlemen and retailers. When Neville's next few single failed to take off, things cooled off rapidly; and Dover could not collect much of the money it was owed or pay their record manufacturing bills. When the IRS came calling, Dover was unable to come up with taxes due, either. As a result, Matassa was bankrupt and had his asserts seized by the IRS, effectively taking down not only Par-Lo but many of the other poorly funded independent labels distributed by Dover. Soon, much of the recording business in the city had crashed. That chain-reaction implosion, plus the changing popular tastes brought on by the music of the British Invasion (much copied from New Orleans artists, ironically), dug a deep crater that only a few of the more stable local labels climbed out of. Things were never the same.

Also lost in the collapse was the second release on Par-Lo (#102), a fine instrumental featuring Davis on guitar backed by Tyler called "Hold On Help Is On the Way" that I featured in my tribute to Davis last year. The demise of Par-Lo devastated the partners. For his part, Tyler looked around at the smoldering rubble of his recording livelihood and decided it was time to move on. He continued to play jazz in clubs, with June Gardner and others, but took a day job to support his family. His group, the Gentlemen of Jazz, played for many years around the city; and he began a long working relationship with jazz chanteuse, Germaine Bazzle. In the 1980s, when Rounder Records came to New Orleans to record classic artists such as Johnny Adams and Irma Thomas, Red began doing sessions for them. As a result, he had the opportunity to record two fine LP/CDs of his own for the label, Heritage and Graciously, backed mainly by members of Astral Project, Johnny Vidacovich, Steve Masakowsk, David Torkanowski, and bassist James Singleton, a new generation of top notch jazz players in the city. After retiring from his job in the 1990s, Red devoted his time to playing jazz and touring as a part of Dr. John's horn section until 1998, when a heart attack took him at the age of 72.

Through the 1970s into the 1990s, Red and his group were regulars at Jazzfest; and it was there that I first saw him, in the late 1970s, one afternoon at my first Fest, when I ducked into the jazz tent to escape the rain and encountered something unexpected. I did not know of Red Tyler or Germaine Bazzle then; but, once in the tent, I could not leave, even as the rain shower stopped. Red impressed me so profoundly that day with his deep, calm demeanor and beautiful tenor sax tones. There was just something genuine and spiritual about that dapper cat - a true jazz Bodhisattva. I was an instant follower and made it a point to know more about him, back-tracking his amazing musical journey through my reading and growing collection of recordings. That whole festival was certainly a mindblower to me - but, 30 years on, I still remember that hour in the jazz tent most of all.

*Note - Harold Battiste heads The AFO Foundation. At their site you can find out more about the organizations' activities and history and purchase CDs featuring their founding members and later generations of players. Please do!

In Pursuit Of Bo-Consciousness - Part 3

WORKING WELL WITH OTHERS ON RIC & RON

As an arranger, songwriter and backing musician, Eddie Bo assisted a number of artists who were beginning or continuing their recording careers at Ric & Ron in the early 1960s, several of whom would go on to become big names in New Orleans R&B. Around this time last year, I featured one of Bo's early productions in a multi-song post. It was Robert Parker's first Ron single, "All Nite Long", a rockin', quirky two-parter from 1959. For additonal documentation, this time I’m featuring tracks by Irma Thomas, Johnny Adams, and Tommy Ridgley, three of the greatest R&B/soul vocalists the city has engendered, plus notable sides by two lesser known artists, Warren Lee and Martha Carter. There may be nothing musically groundbreaking about any of these tunes; but, Bo’s work for Joe Ruffino’s labels was an opportunity for him to learn the ropes of studio arranging and production on his own projects as well as on those of other fine young talents. While there were hits and misses in that process, even the lesser tunes are enjoyable, and, I hope, provide some context in terms of his career. Oddly, one of his earliest collaborations as an arranger for another artist proved to be the most commercially successful.

IRMA THOMAS



"Don't Mess With My Man" (D. Labostrie)
Irma Thomas, Ron 328*, 1960
LISTEN

In releasing this exceptional hit single, which was Irma Thomas' recording debut, Joe Ruffino took advantage of a slip-up by another new local label, Minit, owned by Joe Banashak and his silent partner, deejay Larry McKinley. Just 18 years old and already singing with Tommy Ridgley's band, Thomas had gone to an open talent audition Minit held in 1959, where she sang backed by a young pianist already working for the label, Allen Toussaint. While impressed by Irma, Banashak and McKinley did not commit to signing her on the spot, telling her they would be in touch. Disappointed, she told Ridgley what happened; and he soon arranged an audition for her with Joe Ruffino, who had recently added Ridgley to his Ric roster. The stars were in alignment, as not only did Ruffino want to record Irma immediately, he had the perfect song for her, the sassy, provocative "Don't Mess With My Man". The tune had been recently pitched to him by songwriter Dorothy Labostrie, who had also just penned Johnny Adams' debut hit on Ric, "I Won't Cry". Irma’s session was set up at Cosimo's studio; and, as fate would have it, Ruffino gave the arrangement duties to another of his new Ric signees, Eddie Bo.

Probably recorded late in 1959, the single came out early in the new year with a Labostrie ballad, "Set Me Free", on the other side. Most likely, Bo was on piano, and Mac Rebennack, who was Ruffino's right-hand man in those days, ran the session and played guitar; but the other fine players are less certain. With Bo's stop-time, pumping blues shuffle arrangement, a searing sax solo, and Irma's youthful, fetching vocal, "Don't Mess With My Man", a sly ode to marital double-dealing, became a local hit pretty much from the get-go. By May, it had broken nationally, rising to #22 on the R&B chart. When the action died down in a few months, Ruffino released a follow-up on Ron written and arranged by Bo, "A Good Man" (co-written with Thomas) b/w "I May Be Wrong". The top side was merely a rehash of her earlier hit, musically and lyrically, while the B-side was an exceptionally fine ballad, sung to perfection by Irma. I featured it back in 2006.

Her second Ron single played well locally, but didn't get much farther, even though Irma had been touring the South extensively on the strength of her first hit. Without a strong new single and feeling she had not been adequately compensated for her first substantial seller, Irma refused to do any more recording for the label. That allowed Minit to come back into the picture, with McKinley convincing Banashak to sign her around 1961. At Minit, Thomas began working under the direction of hot songwriter and producer Toussaint , and cut numerous classic sides with him, putting her on the path to becoming one of the great soul vocalists. But, strangely, those records did not result in much more than local and regional attention for her at the time. When Toussaint left for military service, Liberty Records bought out Irma's contract. She moved to Los Angeles and began recording for Imperial Records, which Liberty had recently acquired. That afforded Irma greater exposure and allowed her to get into the national charts again several times over the next couple of years. After she parted ways with Imperial, Irma had one more modest charter in 1967 while briefly signed with Chess Records; but none of her other singles gave her the boost of "Don't Mess With My Man" at the start of her career. Although she never did any studio work with Bo again after those early Ron singles, her performance at Eddie's memorial service a few weeks ago is evidence of her sense of gratitude to him.

*[Note: Many, if not all, of these red and black label Ron 45s are later pressings released after Joe Ruffino's death by his brother-in-law, Joe Assunto, who ran the One Stop Record Shop. The label for the original issue was yellow and black; and other stock Ron singles of this period had a pink and black label. It seems Assunto continued pressing some of the Ric and Ron popular sellers using the red and black Ron logo for quite some time after 1963. Besides "Don't Mess With My Man", the Mardi Gras favorites, "Carnival Time" by Al Johnson (originally on Ric) and Professor Longhair's "Go To The Mardi Gras" are often found in the red and back version. I would consider them re-issues. In addition, Assunto released unissued Ric recordings by Johnny Adams also using the red and black Ron logo around 1964. Read more about them later in this post. According to the R&B Indies, Assunto sold these post-Ruffino Ron singles exclusively at his store.]

WARREN LEE

It's not always what's on a record that makes it a hit. It's what you got behind a record. You had to have money to get records played then. I didn't have connections and wasn't the kind of guy to sniff a deejay's behind to get mine played. - Warren Lee Taylor to Jeff Hannusch in The Soul of New Orleans

Another artist who started his recording career working with Eddie Bo on the Ron label, Warren Lee Taylor certainly did not ever become a household name, unless maybe your household has an avid New Orleans music collector in it. Although he made good records and wrote much of his material, he had no substantial hits in more than a decade of releases on various small labels. With that frustrating track record, you can see how he acquired the record business wisdom in the above quote. Had Jeff Hannusch not tracked him down within the last ten years and gotten his story, virtually nothing would be known about Mr. Taylor today.

In the late 1950s, as a guitarist and vocalist, Taylor fronted his own band at various clubs around the New Orleans area, and gained a reputation for his impressive showmanship. He knew and was influenced by many of the guitarists playing locally at the time, including Guitar Slim, Earl King and Roy Montrell. While scouting talent for Joe Ruffino, Eddie Bo heard Taylor one night in 1961 at the Dew Drop Inn, and told him that he had record-making potential. Taylor was interested; so Bo arranged a session for him at Cosimo's. Two of the singer's own tunes, "Unemployed" and "The Uh-Huh", became the A and B sides of his first single, released under the name of Warren Lee.



"Unemployed" (W. Taylor)
Warren Lee, Ron 345, 1961
LISTEN

"Unemployed" tells the story of a hapless, out-of-work loser who get thrown in jail and can't even get his wife or mother-in-law to bail him out. Sporting the virtually ubiquitous Popeye shuffle groove of the period, it was a decent cut, but had nothing to really make it stand out, including Lee’s hangdog vocal and Bo’s low-key piano solo. The flip side, was a more upbeat dance number, but again had nothing really memorable going on. Still, the single did well enough locally for a second release to be worked up.

For that next single, Taylor collaborated with Bo and Mac Rebennack to come up with “Anna (Stay With Me)”, an answer record to Arthur Alexander’s hit, “Anna (Go With Him)”. Again credited to Warren Lee, the 45 came out on a new subsidiary label Ruffino had started, Soundex , and garnered Taylor more local attention and better paying gigs, but still did not break out beyond much beyond the city limits. At that point, his contract with Ron was up; and Bo probably had already left Ruffino's employ, as well. So, Taylor opted to move on to the newly formed Nola label, working with Wardell Quezergue on several singles. Then, in 1965, Allen Toussaint and Marshall Sehorn picked up Warren for their new Sansu production company, releasing his singles on the Deesu, Tou Sea, and Wand labels over the next four years, with the material getting markedly funky once the Meters became the studio band. I featured one of his enjoyable pre-Meters Deesu sides, “Climb the Ladder” in 2005. As far as I can tell, Taylor did not work with Bo again, after his Ron days.

For more details on Warren Lee Taylor's story, including a discography, I recommend Larry Grogan's overview of his career at the Funky 16 Corners webzine; and, of course, Hannusch's profile on the singer in The Soul of New Orleans is essential, as well.

TOMMY RIDGLEY

One of New Orleans' best R&B vocalists, Tommy Ridgley signed on with Joe Ruffino's Ric label shortly after Bo, having been a recording artist for about a decade by that time. In the late 1940s, he won a talent contest at the Dew Drop Inn and soon started singing professionally in local clubs, where he was spotted by Dave Bartholomew, who was scouting talent for the Imperial label. Dave hired Tommy as a featured vocalist in his band and signed him to Imperial, as well. In late 1949, Ridgley and Jewel King, another Bartholomew find, cut their debut records for Imperial, and were the first of many New Orleans artists on the roster of the Los Angeles-based label. Tommy had number of fine records for Imperial over the next few years, with most doing well on the local level; but he did not have a national hit. He also had releases on King and Decca, followed by a brief stint with Atlantic, after Imperial dropped him. All the while, he continued to be a popular local entertainer in the clubs. In 1957, he signed with Herald Records out of New York City, releasing half a dozen singles, with a number of the sides being novelty tunes; but nothing broke big for him there either. Meanwhile, Tommy formed his own band, the Untouchables, who were very successful playing regionally and also backed big name artists who performed in town. When he and Herald parted ways for lack of hits, Joe Ruffino quickly recruited him.

Surely, Eddie Bo and Tommy Ridgley knew each other on the music scene prior to joining Ric; but I don't think they had worked together. From Tommy's comments about Bo's studio smarts quoted in my prior post, it would seem that Eddie produced or arranged a number of sessions for Ridgley's eight singles on the label between 1960 and 1963; but there seems to be nothing definite to be found about which tunes Bo had a hand in. One that Bo would have obviously worked on, it seems to me, was the one he wrote.



"In The Same Old Way" (D. Johnson)
Tommy Ridgley, Ric 984, 1961**
LISTEN

According to Jeff Hannusch, "In The Same Old Way", written under Bo's nome de plume D(elores) Johnson, was Ridgley's most popular record for Ric; and it's easy to understand why, when you listen to it: simple structure; hip, uncomplicated arrangement; memorable melody; nice lyrics; and a vocal performance like butter. The changes are based on the repeated shift from the major chord to its relative minor for most of the song - a common device in in popular music upon which Bo built a quiet, uncomplicated tune that effectively sneaks up and grabs you with its catchy, instant familiarity. In the same old way, indeed. I've always dug this timeless song and feel that it is one of Eddie's best pop songwriting efforts.

The record, Ridgley's fourth on Ric, got a lot of radio play in New Orleans and sold well; but Ruffino refused to lease it to a larger company who could distribute it nationally - those trust and control issues again - and, thus, deprived Tommy of a chance at wider recognition. The flip side, "The Girl From Kooka Monga", a Ridgley-penned novelty number, had the Popeye groove going on, and, as the singer told Hannusch, was inspired by Jessie Hill's "Ooh Poo Pah Doo". For the next single (#990), released early in 1962, Ruffino had Tommy cut a catchy Earl King song, "My Ordinary Girl"; but neither it nor "She's Got What It Takes" on the other side were very successful, with part of the cause likely due to Ruffino's first heart attack, which kept him from promoting the record.

Ridgley's final two singles for Ric, "Heavenly" b/w "I Love You Yes I Do (#993) and "I've Heard that Story Before" b/w "Honest I Do" (#994), were also victims of Ruffino's ill-health subsequent death, which closed down Ric for good by 1963. Likely, only a limited number were ever pressed; and promotion would have been virtually non-existent. It's hard to say if Bo had a hand in either of them; but I doubt it.

During the next few years, Tommy continued performing with his band and worked with Bo again on one-off singles for Cinderella and Bo's own Blue Jay and Ridge-Way imprints; and I'll cover more from Bo's mid-1960s period in the next installment. Although Tommy continued to record sporadically through the 1960s, and later in the 1970s, I don't think he and Eddie Bo ever collaborated in the studio again, either.

**[Note: Due to the noisy pressing quality of my 45, I've substituted the remastered version of this cut from Rounder's Ridgley LP compilation album, The New Orleans King of the Stroll, which featured many of his Ric sides. It's also available on CD and mp3.]

MARTHA CARTER

What little is known about Martha Carter comes via Jeff Hannusch's segment on her in his notes to Rounder's compilation CD, New Orleans Ladies: Rhythm and Blues from the Vaults of Ric and Ron***, which was also reproduced in his book, The Soul of New Orleans. From the city's Ninth Ward, she came into the world as Martha Nelson and grew up singing in church, that great proving ground for so many soul vocalists. In the late 1950s, when just 16, she got the attention of Oliver 'Nookie Boy' Morgan and joined his band. When Bo encountered her a few years later in a nightclub, Carter was still a teenager but singing with the Porgy Jones Band, tackling jazz numbers along with the popular R&B of the day. Impressed, Bo brought her to Ruffino, who immediately signed her to a recording contract in 1960. She sang back-up on Eddie's "Ain't It The Truth Now" (Ric 974) and was soon cutting her own first release. While in the Ruffino fold, she recorded four singles, all under Bo's supervision: three as Martha Carter (her married name), released on Ron, and one on Ric, as Martha Nelson.

Her first Ron single as Martha Carter (#336) from 1960 consisted of two Bo compositions, "Nobody Knows", a fairly straight-ahead pop R&B number, backed by an equally conventional, mid-tempo ballad, "I'm Through Crying", which was the side that got airplay. Though no fresh ground was broken, Carter's vocals showed promise and the single sold well in New Orleans and environs, encouraging Ruffino to green-light more sessions. The radio exposure also created a demand for Carter's live performances; and she frequently shared billing with Bo. For her next release, Ruffino wanted Martha to do an answer record to Joe Jones', "You Talk Too Much", which had recently come out on Ric (#972) and was the label's biggest seller. Jones' 45 would have probably broken big nationally, too; but he had recorded an earlier version of the hit for Roulette, who sued Ruffino once the Ric single started getting attention in other markets, stopping sales and distribution of the 45 for a time. They eventually forced Ruffino to give up the publishing royalties for the song and gained control of his master tape. Badly stung, Ruffino would thereafter deeply distrust dealings with outside companies; and his desire to do an answer record to "You Talk Too Much" hinged on commercial revenge, trying to cut into Roulette's sales and recoup some of his losses. Unfortunately, "I Don't Talk Too Much", which was issued on Ric 975 under Carter's maiden name late in 1960, did not have the intended effect and quickly faded after getting some local airplay and selling only moderately.

Next up, Bo and Carter went back into the studio that spring and cut two outstanding sides for Ron 339 (a hard record to find), "One Man's Woman", written by Bo, and "You Can If You Think You Can", from the pen of Harold Battiste. Despite both songs being strong and highly danceable, the single did not have much commercial impact even locally for Carter; and she did not record again until 1962, when she cut what would be her final single.



"Then I'll Believe" (D. Johnson)
Martha Carter, Ron 346, 1962
LISTEN

For these sessions, Bo took Carter back to church, at least in spirit, with two of his own compositions. Both songs, "You Shall Not Be Moved" and this B-side, were inspired by bedrock gospel music, though the lyrics were thoroughly secularized. The arrangements were minimal; and Carter's vocals were serviceable, but not revelatory. Frankly, I don't think either the writer/arranger or performer were totally committed to this single. In fact, Bo was on the verge of leaving Ruffino's employ in a dispute over royalties due him; and Ruffino had already suffered one heart attack, leaving him unable to properly tend to his companies or artists. Though it's certainly not a bad record, I chose this cut mainly because it's the only Martha Carter 45 I own. If you get the chance, I highly recommend that you get both sides of her previous single to hear her and Bo at their best together. [*** All eight sides from her four releases can be found of the Rounder compilation mentioned above.]

Remarkably, Irma Thomas and Martha Carter were the only female recording artists on Ric or Ron, although a singer named Barbara Palms did one single for Ruffino's Soundex label late in the game. While Martha was no match for Irma, she held her own over the course of a very short recording career with Eddie Bo's assistance. Soon after Ruffino's death, Carter was forced to retire from performing and recording when an operation to remove polyps from her vocal cords failed, leaving her voice permanently impaired.

Meanwhile, even though Bo had already parted ways with the labels before they were effectively shut down after Ruffino's demise, at least one more record he was involved with did get a limited release on Ron.

JOHNNY ADAMS

Certainly one of the finest vocalists ever to come out of the Crescent City, then gospel singer Johnny Adams began his recording career when songwriter Dorothy Labostrie convinced him to take up secular music and sign on with Joe Ruffino's Ric Records in 1959. Mac Rebennack arranged, supervised and sometimes wrote a number of Johnny's releases; and, according to Jeff Hannusch , Eddie Bo was in charge of other sessions over the course nearly a dozen singles Adams made for the label. I assume that Bo would have at least arranged and/or produced the tracks he wrote, as it seems to make sense; but there is no definite documentation to verify exactly who worked on many of those records. In 2007, I featured one of those Bo songs, Johnny's final Ric release, "Tra-La-La"; and you can read about it and Adams' history with Ric via that link.

As he had done with Tommy Ridgley, Ruffino's brother-in-law, Joe Assunto, released two more singles on Adams with material recorded for Ric that had remained unissued due to Ruffino's sudden passing late in 1962. Again, according to the R&B Indies, Assunto sold those records, which had a red and black Ron label but used the Ric numbering sequence, exclusively through his One Stop Record Shop; and the first of them contained another Eddie Bo composition.



"I Want To Do Everything For You" (D. Johnson - J. Ruffino)
Johnny Adams, Ron 995, ca 1964
LISTEN

This single contained the impressively sung waltz-time ballad "Lonely Drifter" on top, backed by our featured track, which had a fairly standard-issue R&B song structure and arrangement, including piano triplets, likely played by Eddie himself. Delivered by another singer, this song wouldn't have had much to offer; but the sheer power and high quality of Adams' phenomenal voice makes for a fine listening experience that brings out the full intent of Bo's devotional lyrics.

Meanwhile, I don't think Bo had anything to do with Adams' other post-Ruffino Ron single (#996), "Coming Round the Mountain" b/w "Cold Cold Heart" (a Hank Williams tune!). Eddie would work with the singer only once more, a single project released on the Gone label in 1964, which we will take up in the next installment. It's really too bad that Eddie and Johhny did not get to do more together over the years, as I think Adams could definitely have taken some of Bo's better material to the heights.
*******
For the next few weeks, I'm going to take a Bo-break to get back to some other music I've wanted to feature for a while now; but I will return to the path of Bo-consciousness and move the discussion and musical selections into the mid-1960s. So, as always, stay tuned. And thanks for sticking around. I appreciate your patience, as I've spent most of my free time for the last month or more in New Orleans at the festivals and also celebrating the graduation of our daughter from college this past weekend!

GONE FESTING. . . .

Ilê Aiyê - photo by Dan Phillips

Yes, it's that time of year again. Last wekend, I cruised the French Quarter Festival, and it was all good. Last night, my wife and I were at the opening of the Festival International de Louisiane here in Lafayette, where we heard some great music, including the above pictured Ilê Aiyê from Bahia, Brazil, an absolutely awesome percussion/vocal/dance ensemble I've long admired but hadn't seen live. To have them about ten minutes from my front door was particularly sweet (long term goal: to catch them on their home turf). We'll do one more night of festival here before heading to Jazzfest for two weekends.

Needless to say, this means HOTG bloggus interruptus for a while longer. I'll be back with more on Eddie Bo's adventures in recording. . .and more. . . as soon as I can.

I hope you'll be festing somewhere this season, too, despite the economic hardships. To my mind, it's the quickest way out of a depression. As the Police said, "when the world is running down, you make the best of what's still around." If you can't come here this year, tune in to KRVS and WWOZ for live broadcasts from Festival International and Jazzfest, respectively, to be here in spirit. Enjoy.

In Pursuit of Bo-Consciousness - Part 2

THE RIC YEARS

I always felt Eddie was one of the most talented songwriters to come out of New Orleans. He was always coming into the studio with great ideas for songs and arrangements. Joe Ruffino realized he had something in Eddie Bo and he gave him free rein in the studio. - Tommy Ridgley, as quoted by Jeff Hannusch in The Soul of New Orleans.


From the late 1940s to the mid-1950s, the emerging recording business in New Orleans mainly involved outside companies (Regal, DeLuxe, Imperial, Chess, Specialty, etc) coming in to do sessions at Cosimo Matassa's studio on local artists and/or bringing in outside artists to record with the city's talented, resourceful musicians, arrangers and producers. As recording activity increased during the 1950s and numerous hits were being made, small homegrown labels sprang up run by entrepreneurs eager to get a piece of the action. In the first wave were Johnny Vincent's Ace Records and Joe Ruffino's twin imprints, Ric and Ron. Ever enterprising, and possessing skills sought by the record men, Eddie Bo recorded for both Vincent and Ruffino. The 1960s would see a proliferation of independent labels in New Orleans; and he worked for many of them, owning several himself, always seeking the elusive hit.

Joe Ruffino ran a record store in the French Quarter and worked briefly as a salesman for the record distribution business, Record Sales, that Vincent owned. In 1958, seeing what Vincent had done with Ace, Ruffino decided to take the gamble and start his own record company. The next year, he signed Eddie Bo to Ric as an artist. As Tommy Ridgley, another Ric artist of the time, points out above, Ruffino soon saw that Bo had more to offer and began giving him additional responsibilities: developing new talent, arranging, playing sessions, producing, and songwriting for some of the growing stable of young artists on both Ric and Ron. Also performing similar duties in-house from the beginning was the teenaged Mac Rebennack; and later Harold Battiste would also do some writing, arranging and producing for Ruffino . Ric and Ron productions were generally always high quality; and the labels had their share of very popular local sellers, plus a few that made it onto the national charts. But Ruffino's distribution was mainly regional by choice, although early on Ember briefly distributed his releases nationally. He often balked at leasing his records to larger national labels, fearing his artists might get lured away or that he wouldn't get properly compensated, which were valid concerns in an often cutthroat business. So, for the most part, Ruffino felt safer with his smaller market; but that business model limited the exposure of his artists and kept them from gaining more widespread recognition and any sort of substantial financial success. In any event, none of it would ultimately matter. By the end of 1962, Ruffino was dead after two heart attacks; and his labels pretty much died with him.

During a three year run with Ric, Eddie had nine singles released, several of which did quite well, including "Tell It Like It Is" b/w "Every Dog Got His Day" and "Check Mr. Popeye". For this installment, I am featuring four of Bo's Ric sides, including cuts from his first and his last singles and will link to some others, all to give you a sense of what this man,then in in his early 30s, was capable of.

For his debut on Ric, Eddie led off with two of his own compositions, the exceedingly upbeat pop of "Hey There Baby" backed with a ballad, "I Need Someone". The top side had a double-time, syncopated shuffle pushing it that hinted at some New Orleans roots, plus an energetic sax solo; but the structure and lyrics were pretty run-of-the-mill and forgettable. Eddie's vocal seemed a bit tentative and uninspired, too, as if he weren't totally committed to this more pop musical direction. Another factor that kept this side from connecting was that the mix had the instrumentation too far back, limiting the dynamics and muffling the arrangement. Things improved considerably on the B-side, however.



"I Need Someone" (Bocage)
Eddie Bo, Ric962, 1959
LISTEN

"I Need Someone" was no masterpiece of originality, either, as it was obviously made from the Fats Domino/Dave Bartholomew mold of rhythmic R&B balladry, piano triplets and all - the kind of song structure that would proliferate all over South Louisiana and later come to be called Swamp Pop. With the right artist, the formula worked well, though. I picked this tune because Bo did a much better job on it. From his strong statement of the title that starts it off, all the way through, his vocal was soulful and assured, with his tenor at times reminiscent of Little Willie John. Although I don't usually focus on the slower sides here, I think it needs to be said that Bo wrote and and sang some superb ballads over the years; and they are worth pursuing, if you are into it. Jeff Hannusch identifies the drummer on Bo's first single session as Walter Lastie , who played in Eddie's road band, and the sax player as Robert Parker, who had also worked with Bo live. Eddie had recruited Parker to play sessions backing Ric and Ron artists, and would soon collaborate on two Ron singles for the saxophonist/vocalist, including the wild, two-part "All Nite Long".

Eddie's second single (964), "You Got Your Mojo Working" b/w "Everybody Knows", came out in late 1959 or early 1960. While the A-side was a reference to the Ann Cole's "Got My Mojo Working" that was covered so successfully by Muddy Waters, the song itself had nothing in common with their tunes. Bo's was a smooth mid-tempo R&B number, again very much in the style of Fats Domino (and why not cop the grooves of a man selling tens of millions of records). But, it was on his next release that something definitely changed. Eddie upped the ante considerably and jumped headfirst into the Sixties, making his best record yet, which was innovative, ahead of its time, and his first hit for Ric.

Both sides of Ric 969 from 1960 took Eddie's game to another level. "Tell It Like It Is" (not the same song as Aaron Neville's later hit), is surely one of the finest examples of funk's gradual bubbling up to the surface in New Orleans R&B; and you can hear it for yourself at The "B" Side (thanks for posting it, Red, although it was an A-side, actually!). Kicking off with an in-the-pocket second line marching beat played on just a tambourine, and soon joined in succession by the drums, bass, vocal, and horns, Eddie's effective arrangement locks you into the groove immediately; and his high energy, gospel-tinged singing fits the track perfectly. You definitely hear a Ray Charles influence in this song; but Bo injected such a strong dose of New Orleans feel into it that it became totally his own. Well, maybe not totally, as I do think he copped the basic syncopated parade groove for this tune from Smiley Lewis' 1955 record, "Jailbird" ; but Eddie and ensemble gave it more juice, resulting in a rave-up of a record that seemed guaranteed to fill a dance floor in a flash. Definitely, the man was on to something.

Note: Though written by Bo, the writers' credits on the label showed "Allen-Johnson". That would be 'Hoss' Allen, nationally known DJ on the powerful WLAC in Nashville. Giving various DJs part of the writing royalties was an attempted inducement for them to play the song frequently and build demand for it. The second name belongs to Delores Johnson, Bo's wife at the time, who often got credited, not because she wrote songs, but probably to elude the taxman.



"Every Dog Got His Day" (Johnson-Douglas)
Eddie Bo, Ric 969, 1960
LISTEN

As remarkable as the A-side was, I think "Every Dog Got His Day", this ambitious soul-rock-funk hybrid on the flip, topped it by breaking new ground. It had a slightly stuttering, propulsive parade beat on the snare, while the kick drum turned some serious funky tricks; but the main repeating riff of the song (BAH-bada-bada-BOP-bah-bah) was really the driving force that rocked this arrangement. I wish I could name the players who contributed so much to both sides, but they remain unknown (at least to me). Eddie's strong, soulful vocal again owed much to the spirit of Ray Charles; and his singing the verses over drum breakdowns was a brilliant, attention-grabbing tactic. The funny, street-wise lyrics - priceless. It's no wonder that these songs did well in the local marketplace and got him into the lower reaches of at least one national chart. Had Ruffino's distribution been better, Confucius say Bo-Dog could have had a big payday.

I've featured this song before in reference to two other numbers of the period that used that riff, after Bo's single appeared. The first was Tommy Ridgley's "Double Eyed Whammy", recorded for Ric in November of that year, surely with Bo's assistance, followed by Freddy King's instrumental blues-rock classic, "San-Ho-Zay", released on the King label the following summer, which appropriated not only the riff but the melody line of Ridgley's tune. You can read more about them on my earlier post. But, ultimately in my book, nothing touches "Every Dog Got His Day", which really sounds like it came from the end of the Sixties rather than the beginning. One of Eddie's best singles of any era, no doubt. Surprisingly, I never heard him do it live in later years. Did anyone else?

His next release later that same year, "Warm Daddy" b/w "Ain't It The Truth Now" took a step or three backward to the relative safety of mid-tempo R&B. The top side wasn't much, although it did have what would later come to be known as the "Popeye groove" that so many New Orleans records of the early to mid-1960s had, a mildly syncopated, laid-back shuffle beat that eventually came to be overused. But it's the back side that I think is the more interesting of the two.



"Ain't It The Truth Now" (Burmah - Johnson)
Eddie Bo, Ric 974, 1960
LISTEN

A fairly straight ahead, gospel-influenced, medium shuffle tune with a relaxed vocal from Eddie, "Ain't It The Truth" still had some syncopation going on in the kick drum that gave the groove some extra energy and interest. What's puzzling about this record and his next few releases is how removed they were from "Tell It Like It Is" and "Every Dog Got His Day" in sound and sales. It's like he reverted back to formula, a less successful one at that. Still, even standard-issue Bo on auto-pilot, which is what these sides appear to have been, made for some enjoyable product. On a side note, the background singer on this one was Martha Carter, a full-tilt vocalist who Bo discovered when she was singing with the Porgy Jones band. Eddie convinced Ruffino to sign her and produced three singles on her for Ron and one for Ric. But more about Martha down the road.

Though there were several decent tunes among the sides on his two remaining 1961 releases, none were in the same league as his creative breakthrough back on #969. Notable were "It Must Be Love" on 977, a ballad with strings that Eddie delivered very well, and "Dinky Doo " from 981, an upbeat mover, also with strings, that recycled some lyrics and its theme from "I'm Wise" on Apollo; but it's hook, "I aint' no dinky doo ", doomed it to silly song oblivion. I've never heard his other release from 1961, "I've Got To Know" b/w "Bless You Darling" (985); but thesoulgeneration Eddie Bo Discography calls "I've Got To Know" a "first class moddish R&B dancer" and notes that it was written by Harold Battiste and Melvin Lastie of AFO Records, whose team of studio talent, many of whom co-owned their company, had begun working with Ruffino. Contrary to his usual inclinations, Ruffino leased the single out to Capitol, a company not adept at R&B promotion; and, thus, it did not get anywhere. The AFO Combo then backed Bo on his next single (987) in 1962, "Check Mr. Popeye" b/w "Now Let's Popeye", which proved to be a winner.

As Jeff Hannusch notes in The Soul Of New Orleans, "Check Mr. Popeye", playfully based around a local dance craze called The Popeye, was Bo's best selling record on Ric and by far the most popular of the other Popeye inspired records that sprang up at the time. A simply arranged novelty record with that insouciant shuffle, Bo's lyrics and vocal delivery remind me a bit of the Coasters; but his song didn't get a chance to rise to their heights. Much to Bo's consternation,Ruffino dithered about leasing the record nationally, finally allowing Swan Records to put it out after the Popeye wave had crested, and leaving Eddie Bo once again with chump change. By the time Bo's final single for Ric came out, he was definitely on the outs with Mr. Joe, feeling exploited, a bit older, and definitely wiser about the perils of music business.



"Baby I'm Wise" (D. Johnson)
Eddie Bo, Ric 989, 1962
LISTEN

Fittingly, Eddie's swan song for Rick was "Baby I'm Wise", more or less a remake of his earlier Apollo side with words that took on new meaning as a result of his business dealings. It was backed with "Roamin-titus", a none too subtle song about making a getaway. Neither song broke any new ground musically, but were both solid, Popeye style dance numbers. While Bo had no problems writing songs for the popular marketplace, some of which deserved wider recognition, and a couple of which were exceptional, I think he was still finding his way as a writer and performer during the period. It was a process of growth that proceeded through the decade as he pursued his label-hopping journey.

I'm going to come back with some of the records Eddie Bo produced for other artists on Ric and Ron, before we explore other of his adventures in recording in the 1960s. His story provides a revealing look into the artistry and business of music in New Orleans and helps to show how he developed his unique style and worked his way into becoming a guru of funk before he was done.


Note: You can hear many of Bo's Ric sides on Rounder's CD compilation, Check Mr. Popeye.

In Pursuit of Bo-Consciousness

Edwin J. Bocage, a/k/a Spider Bocage, Little Bo, and best known as Eddie Bo, a fascinating, often enigmatic figure on the New Orleans music scene for over half a century, passed away just over a week ago. During his career, he wore many musical hats (including turbans): pianist/organist, vocalist, bandleader, composer (over 200 songs), arranger and producer. His work appeared on a huge assortment of labels, including a few of his own. In fact, his Wikipedia biography claims that, as an artist, he released more singles than anyone else in New Orleans, except Fats Domino. While I haven't done the math, that factoid might be accurate, although Johnny Adams and Lee Dorsey would also be in the running. To put it in perspective, though Eddie made a lot of records, precious few of his own sides were even local hits, as worthy as many of them were. Fats likely sold more on one of his big records than Eddie did on all of his singles and albums combined. Despite never achieving national or worldwide mass appeal, Bo continued to record - he obviously had a passion for it; and, of course, he did not labor in semi-obscurity by design. His intent, at least in his most productive years, was to break out with a hit and reap the financial rewards for his efforts; but the music business was often neither cooperative nor kind. He had better luck as a songwriter, when a few big-selling artists covered this tunes. Yet Eddie persevered both as an entertainer and recording artist, occasionally going back to carpentry or into other business ventures to help make ends meet, and, at least once, "retiring" to go on a spiritual quest. By the time of his passing, while certainly not rich and famous, he was still a popular local performer and had a small but loyal following around the country and abroad. I guess you could say that he achieved an underground legendary status, revered by other musicians, record collectors, and serious New Orleans music fans alike - the Bo-cognoscenti, so to speak.

Of course, because I am one of those fans, Eddie's musical exploits have often been a topic of my random musings here; but even if I weren't, it would be difficult to avoid talking about him, he was so wrapped up in the New Orleans music business for so long. If you're interested, I've listed links to most of my previous posts on Eddie's various recordings below *; and the music for those is in regular rotation on the HOTG webcast. Also, let me again recommend an outstanding site for either casual or serious Bo research from another dedicated fan: Martin Lawrie's incredible, illustrated Eddie Bo Discography at sougeneration . To get a profound sense of just how prolific Eddie was, I encourage you to browse around at Martin's site sometime, many times - it is one awesome resource.

As I mentioned in my previous post on Eddie's passing, Larry Grogan over at Funky 16 Corners and Red Kelly at The "B" Side are also doing some fine special tributes to Bo; and I encourage you to check them out, hear what they have to offer, expand your Bo-consciousness. Over the next month or so, I am going to be taking my own stock of Mr. Bocage's career, starting at the beginning here today. I've been pulling out and will be posting some tracks from the archives that Eddie was involved in both as a performer and producer, and hope to give you a sense of how he began his studio adventures, quickly got into the thick of things, and made important contributions to his hometown's music legacy.

GETTING WISE

With numerous family members employed both in the building trades and as musicians, plus a mother who reportedly could run some mean, barrelhouse piano a la Professor Longhair, Eddie Bo had the genetics and early influences to develop several skill sets that served him well in life: carpentry, piano playing, and funk. Like many of his contemporaries in the late 1940s, service in the armed forces allowed him to pursue serious musical studies at Grunewald's School of Music once he returned home, which expanded his musical reach. He was drawn to the intricacies of the newly emerging bebop style of jazz and envisioned it as his career path. But, as he began playing professionally around town, he had a practical revelation that diverted him toward popular music. As he told Jeff Hannusch in The Soul Of New Orleans, "I was a turncoat. I started out playing jazz and that's what I really wanted to play. But I switched to rhythm and blues because that's where the money was at the time."

Eddie's story up to this point was typical of many of his fellow music school graduates back then, and one of the reasons why New Orleans became such a great R&B town after World War II. It was full of strong veteran musicians plus up-and-comers who had serious chops and a desire to play jazz but couldn't make financial ends meet doing it. So they took work playing the simpler rhythmic jump music (a/k/a R&B and rock 'n' roll) that most of the club go-ers and kids listening to records wanted to hear and dance to. The complexities of modern jazz, especially bebop, were mostly relegated to late night jam sessions. Bo, like many of the best, put his own local flavor into the popular music he played, setting it apart from the R&B from other areas of the country.

By the mid-1950s, he had acquired a nickname, 'Spider', and was leading his own band, the Spider Bocage Orchestra, holding down regular club gigs and touring behind various better known artists of the day. His first opportunity to record came from Johnny Vincent, who heard Eddie playing at a club and enlisted him to record for his new label, Ace Records. As pianist, Bo was in the session band backing Al Collins on the very first Ace release (#500) in 1955, "I Got The Blues For You" b/w "Shuckin' Stuff", which did not get airplay because the lyrics were deemed too dirty. Vincent also cut several sides with Eddie on lead vocal, and chose "Baby" and "So Glad" for release as Ace's second single, re-naming him Little Bo for the occasion.

"So Glad" (Bocage)
Little Bo, Ace 501, 1955
LISTEN

As you can tell from "So Glad" , Eddie's debut as a featured recording artist was standard R&B fare that did not set the world on fire; but it was a solid performance and at least a start. Vincent did not follow-up right away with any more sessions; and, in the meantime, Eddie got scooped up by the Apollo label out of New York and recorded a single for them in New Orleans. For the A-side, he took Collins' "I've Got the Blues For You" and put a new musical spin on it with fresh, more radio-friendly lyrics, and called the result "I'm Wise". Released in 1956, the song quickly became popular in New Orleans and regionally, but didn't go any farther on its own. Then, later that year Bo managed to make indirect rock 'n' roll history when Little Richard appropriated "I'm Wise" during his seminal hit-making sessions in New Orleans for Specialty Records. Richard messed with the words a little, re-titled it "Slippin' and Slidin' (Peepin' and Hidin')", and kicked up the energy level, assisted by some great New Orleans session men. With the killer "Long Tall Sally" on the other side, the single shot to #1 on the national R&B chart and got into the Top 10 of the pop chart - a sure-fire two-fer hit.



"I'm Wise" (Bocage-Collins-Smith)
Eddie Bo, Apollo 486, 1956
LISTEN

Back in 2006, I did a post (linked below) on the morphing of "I've Got The Blues For You" into "I'm Wise", then "Slippin' and Slidin'". I'm re-posting Eddie's version because I think it's such an important record in understanding how on top of his game he was early on and the part he played along with other New Orleans musicians and writers in changing the sound and rhythmic thrust of popular music. Little Richard's raw energy won the day in the marketplace, intensified by Earl Palmer's rolling locomotive drum shuffle; but Bo's song was left mainly intact, with its hipster lyrics and the funky push-pull, latin-tinged rhythms he set up. I don't know who played the lighter, syncopated drum groove on "I'm Wise", sounds a little too restrained to be Palmer; but the sax solo was probably rendered by Lee Allen, who often worked off the melody line. Eddie's jazz leanings showed through in his somewhat dissonant, Monk-like piano solo - maybe too esoteric for early rock 'n' roll, but dope nonetheless. It was just the start of the funk infiltrations and quirky musical proclivities that popped up in his productions more and more as time went by.

When Bo's first Apollo single started selling around town, followed in short order by Little Richard's incendiary take, Johnny Vincent rushed out a single on Bo to try to capitalize. He used "I'm So Tired", a plodding blues from Bo's initial Ace session that had not made his debut single; but Vincent had nothing else by the singer for the other side. Ever the conniver, he put an up-tempo dance track on the flip, "We Like Mambo", that had been recorded by one of his new signees, Huey Smith, and released them as Ace 515 with Eddie Bo shown as the artist. As you might predict, the DJs and record buyers went for "We Like Mambo" and it was popular locally - so much so that Eddie had to add it to his set list - none of which pleased Huey Smith, to be sure.

While on the road with his band, Bo cut more sides for Apollo in New York; and four more singles were released, none successful. So, he tried his luck with Chess records, tracking a number of songs under the direction of their man in New Orleans, Paul Gayten . Out of those, two singles were issued, "Indeed I Do" b/w "Every Day, Every Night" on Checker 877 in 1957 and "My Dearest Darling" b/w "Oh, Oh" on Chess 1698 in 1958. Currently at The "B" Side, you can see label scans, read more on these releases and hear "Oh, Oh", a dangerous rocker for sure, plus "Walk That Walk", an unissued track similar in feel to "I'm Wise". When neither of these singles took off, Eddie parted ways with Chess fairly quickly. Later on, in 1960, Etta James covered "My Dearest Darling" on Chess' Argo label and had a big hit with it. In the meantime, Bo reconnected with Johnny Vincent and recorded his next release in late 1958 or early 1959. Ace was hitting on all cylinders by then with multiple charting records by Huey Smith and the Clowns, Earl King, Frankie Ford, and Jimmy Clanton, to name just a few; and I'm sure Eddie wanted a piece of that action.

"I Love To Rock 'N Roll" (E. Bocage)
Eddie Bo, Ace 555, 1959
LISTEN

A swinging mid-tempo rocker, "I Love to Rock 'N Roll" had a very danceable groove and spunky, fun-loving vocal from Eddie. It should have put him up on the national charts with his peers on the Ace roster; but, according to Jeff Hannusch in The Soul Of New Orleans, it too remained a regional seller at best. Very likely, Bo produced this record himself and used drummer Charles 'Hungry' Williams, who was doing a lot of session work for Ace and other local labels, having become the first-call drum man in the city after Earl Palmer moved out to Los Angeles. I consider this number to be a classic example of New Orleans feel-good ensemble playing - with a bounce to it courtesy of Hungry that is just a joy to hear. Neither straight ahead rock nor full second line strutting, it has a flavor all its own, capable of inciting an instant party every time it's played.

Once again, Eddie didn't stay with Ace. Instead, he chose to cast his fortunes with a new company, owned by Joe Ruffino, with two start-up labels, Ric and Ron. Bo signed on with Ric in 1959 as an artist; but Ruffino would soon give him more responsibility and opportunity to shine during his tenure. Eddie not only made some great records on his own, but wrote and produced for some of the city's best young R&B talent on both labels. In the next installment, we'll explore a number of great records Eddie was involved within the few years he worked for Ric and Ron. It was the beginning of a phenomenally productive decade for him.

[Many thanks to Martin for permission to use the two Ace label photos above, taken from his Eddie Bo Discography.]

*Further readings in Bo-consciousness from the HOTG archives:

Heavy Lifting - Al Collins, Eddie Bo, and Little Richard
Strange Fruit - The Explosions
Hey, Fellas! - Oliver Morgan
How We Roll - Eddie Bo, unissued (?) Rip Records session
Irma and Eddie Get It Right - Irma Thomas
Home Is Where The Mystery Is - Betty Taylor
As Seen On the Bo Discography - Tommy Ridgley
Four Kings (Part 2) - Tommy Ridgley, Freddy King, and Eddie Bo
Barbara George Remembered
Adams Sings Bo - Johnny Adams
Knowing The Barons. . . - The Barons
From Nookie Boy To The La La Man - Oliver Morgan
Struggles and Bucket Checks: Two Years On - Eddie Bo on Bo-Sound
Art Neville and Two Guys Named Bo
A Case Of Mysterious Musical Alter-Egos - Marie Boubarere
Chuck Carbo
Mary Jane By Any Other Name - Mary Jane Hooper
All Nite Hot Buns...and Hatchets - Eddie, Paul Gayten, Robert Parker, Roger & the Gypsies

Eddie Bo Is Gone

This just in....my friend, Tom, host of the New Orleans Big Beat on WEVL in Memphis let me know today that Eddie Bo has passed away. A quick check of Keith Spera's blog for the Times-Picayune today reveals that Eddie died Wednesday of a heart attack. He was 79.

What a body blow this is for his legion of fans. Another influential giant of New Orleans soul and funk from the 1950s onward is no more, an eccentric innovator and a risk-taker who pursued his musical muse against often long odds and frequent adversity up to, including, and beyond the Federal Flood. I am just beginning to take this all in.

Of course, I'll have more to say. . .and play, later on.

Update 3/22/2009: I want to direct y'all over to Funky 16 Corners where the always enterprising Larry Grogan already has a very hip Eddie Bo-related podcast mix of the more funky stuff Eddie was involved in producing/writing, mainly for other artists (although a couple of those "others" were actually Eddie!). Not only that, Larry has re-posted "Hook and Sling" and "Pass The Hatchet". And he's not done yet! So, while waiting for me to summon something up, get down with Mr. Grogan. While I don't work nearly as fast as Larry, his offerings have freed me up to feature some of Bo's earlier work, including productions for other artists, most of which I have not posted before. Stay tuned. . . .

Almost forgot to tell you that I have just added three more Eddie Bo songs to the HOTG Radio stream. They are cuts from several of his self-produced CDs from the 1990s: Eddie Bo And Friends - 1995 (later re-issued as A Shoot From the Root, in Germany - I think), Back Up This Train - 1996, and Nine Yards Of Funk - 1998. Very funky stuff. Enjoy.

Update 3/25/2009: I've learned from OffBeat that there will be a memorial service for Eddie in New Orleans at the Rock 'N Bowl, Wednesday, April 1, from 2:00 PM to 5:00 PM - open to all. Alex Rawls adds in his Pop Life blog that Allen Toussaint, Joe Krown, and Marva Wright are scheduled to perform, so far.

Update 3/27/2009: I haven't had much time this week to work up material from my Eddie Bo archives, sorry to say. The good news is that others have their own archives and have been busy. Besides Larry Grogan, who continues his Bo bounty with podcasts and posts at Funky 16 Corners, my bro Red Kelly has a tribute up over at The "B" Side with some tracks from Eddie's Chess recordings and one of his Ric sides. He's done his usual fine job and has saved me some time and bandwidth to boot. Both Larry and Red must be able to blog in their sleep. Check these guys out!! My hat's off to 'em. Hope to have the first part of my Bo restropective up in a day or so and will try to fill in where I can some of the stuff they don't have up. . . .yet. Hint, we're starting at the beginning.

[Update 3/28/2009] Well, after much delay, including a malware attack on my laptop that took an entire day to undo (note: never go to a "free" photo editing site), I have finally got Part 1 of my Eddie Bo retrospective up. See above. I also wanted to hip you to another bountiful Bo tribute mix at Second Line Social. Thanks to Jukeboxmafia for the heads-up. Bo-consciousness abounds.

PLEASE NOTE: I just realized that I neglected to copy the following information from my word processor. Sorry for the late heads-up - but this information has been available at other sites I've linked to, anyway.

A fund has been set up to defray expenses incurred by Bo's family and to continue his musical legacy. Send your donations to
Eddie Bo Memorial Fund
P. O. Box 57175
New Orleans, LA 70157-7175

Let's Hear More From Snooks. . . Aw-rite?

I've been burning up what few brain cells I have left trying to remember the first time I saw Fird 'Snooks' Eaglin, Jr. perform live. This lack of specifics has much more to do with my age (and maybe what I was drinking back then) than with the impact of his performance, I'm sure. Fortunately for me, I got to see him play often in New Orleans. So, his always entertaining, go-for-it gigs have all blurred into one big stream of consciousness memorial funfest, making it hard to sift out that one show that got me started. I know it was in the early 1980s, more than likely at Jazzfest; but, whatever the venue and exact date, I immediately became a fan of that extraordinary man, as have so many others who caught his shows out at the fairgrounds racetrack or in a local club, such as the Rock 'n Bowl. Over the years, people would call me when I was doing radio in Memphis, saying they'd been to New Orleans and were knocked out by a guitar player and singer named Snooks - best music they heard; and I have gotten similar comments since I've been doing the blog. He had that effect. As noted here and elsewhere, Snooks passed away on February 18th, just prior to Mardi Gras, at the age of 73. Another of New Orleans' unique voices and talents has slipped away.

As well-known and loved as he was around his hometown, Snooks was not effectively presented as a featured recording artist for most of his career. Besides non-locals discovering him on their vacations, it was not until the 1980s that he made a name for himself outside of New Orleans through his fine recordings for the Black Top label. He was a contemporary in age of both Allen Toussaint, with whom he played as a teenager in his first band, the Flamingos, in the early 1950s, and Art Neville, who headed up a popular rival 1950s band, the Hawketts. As Jeff Hannusch relates in The Soul of New Orleans, Snooks made his first commercial record for Victor Augustine around 1953, when he was about 17: two gospel sides, including "Jesus Will Fix It", released on a 78 billing him as Blind Fird. It had limited local sales. Already known around town for his prodigious guitar chops, he was asked that same year to join James 'Sugar Boy' Crawford's band, replacing guitarist Irving Banister, who had been drafted. As a result, Snooks played on a number of Sugar Boy's recording sessions in New Orleans for Chess Records, including the classic "Jock-A-Mo". When Banister returned from the service, Snooks went back to gigging with the Flamingos, already exhibiting his unique style of spontaneous guitar wizardry and ability to play virtually any popular song the crowds requested, whether the rest of the band could follow or not.

When Dr. Harry Oster and his assistant, Richard Allen, came to New Orleans in 1958 looking for folk artists to record (there was once a market for that), they were for some reason told to go to Snooks' house. Finding him sitting on his porch strumming a guitar, the duo immediately sensed his talent and got his consent to roll tape. Over 50 songs were eventually tracked, most with just Snooks and his acoustic guitars (6 and 12 string), but a number of them had added washboard, harmonica, and vocals by Lucius Bridges and Percy Randolph. The sessions were later released in various combinations by a number of labels including Folkways and Folk-Lyric/Arhoolie. To boost the saleability of the tracks to the purist folklore crowd, Oster's notes for the releases stated that Snooks was a blind street musician. While Snooks had both the lack of eyesight and the repertoire to pull that off, easily playing solo blues, folk, R&B, and other genres, too, he told Hannusch that he had never stood on sidewalks busking for spare change, being much too busy doing R&B and rock 'n' roll in clubs and at dances; but the fabricated notion of Snooks' early days as a street performer still crops up. Meanwhile, in the real world, the Flamingos soon broke up; and Snooks began gigging around town as L'il Ray Charles, playing Charles' repertoire, mimicking his vocal style, and doing well for himself.

Several years after Snooks recorded for Oster, he was signed by Dave Bartholomew to Imperial Records. Bartholomew, who worked for more than a decade with Fats Domino, Smiley Lewis and other Imperial artists as a writer and producer, was still recording local talent for the label. In the early 1960s, he produced records on Snooks, Earl King, Alvin 'Shine' Robinson, Shirley and Lee, Frankie Ford, and Huey Smith and the Clowns. Snooks' first session for Imperial was in the Spring of 1960; and, over the next three years. he cut more than two dozen sides with Bartholomew and had nine singles released. While none really lit up the charts, they sold locally; and Imperial kept releasing more until the California-based label was bought out by Liberty Records in 1963, ending its New Orleans productions.

I only have a couple of Snooks' Imperial singles. A lot of the material Bartholomew had him doing was slow to mid-tempo and often did not allow him to display the edgy energy of his own style of performing. In fact, most of the songs Snooks did were either written or co-written by Bartholomew; or he had the publishing on them. So, it was more about working the boss' catalog than showcasing the artist. Snooks always did a credible and professional job, and occasionally got to shine. But I'd have to say he was not served all that well by his Imperial experience - which is why no one hails these records as classics the way Earl King's originals for the label are revered. I got my overview of the sessions from the CD, Snooks Eaglin: The Complete Imperial Recordings, released by Capitol in the mid-1990s and now out of print. In 2006, I featured a cut from one of my Snooks singles, "Travelin' Mood", and have reactivated the audio on that post. To boot, I'm featuring here the flip side of that single, plus one of the better tracks that Imperial did not see fit to release.

You can also currently hear another number from one of the Imperial 45s at Red Kelly's The "B" Side.



"My Head Is Spinnin'" (R. J. Mitchell & Ford Eaglin)
Ford Eaglin, Imperial 5765, 1961
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

"I've Been Walkin'"(R. J. Mitchell & Ford Eaglin)
Ford Eaglin, unissued Imperial
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

Recorded in June of 1961, "My Head Is Spinnin'", written by Snooks and R. J. 'Bobby' Mitchell, another local Imperial artist, is a pretty standard R&B/pop song of the day that does not reveal any overt New Orleans roots. The changes remind me somewhat of Arthur Alexander's "Anna", although that tune did not come out until 1962. Maybe Alexander was taking from Snooks. Anyway, the song is a good example of the type of tune Snooks was doing at Imperial, although he at least did have a hand in writing this one. He's pretty subdued vocally (sounds like he might have had a cold!) and musically, although the arrangement is well-done and the song pleasant enough.

On the other side of the coin, we have the much more lively performance of "I've Been Walkin'" from that same session, also written by Mitchell and Eaglin, which never got released, at least not until the Capitol CD came out. It's still played pretty safe, but is upbeat and has some fine guitar soloing. I always like it when Snooks plays something particularly hot and says "yeah", like he does here. I think he has always been his best audience! Besides Snooks, the basic rhythm section for these songs was Frank Fields on bass, James Booker on piano, and Smokey Johnson, drums. Not too shabby. So, why was this one was left in the can?

After Imperial went through corporate assimilation and left most of its New Orleans roster behind (Irma Thomas did record for them later), Snooks made only one more record that decade, the ultra-rare "Cheetah" b/w "Sweetness", both originals, for Eddie Bo's very short-lived Fun label around 1964, where he was shown as 'Lil' Snook. Fun was Bo's first self-owned recording venture; and Snooks was his lead-off artist. But very few copies of the single exist (Hannusch has a label shot of it in The Soul of New Orleans). Needless to say, it was not a big seller. Two decades later, Snooks would reprise those tunes on different Black Top CDs.

As with many R&B artists, the 1960s after the British Invasion hit were tough on Snooks, making it hard to get work. So, he moved out of the city, across the river to the West and spent several years gigging in and around Donaldsonville, LA, before moving back closer to New Orleans around 1970 and starting to play in the city again with the resurgence of interest in the local music scene. He was soon performing at the Jazz and Heritage Festival, where he began playing with Professor Longhair. They toured together for several years and did some recording in Woodstock, New York and Memphis, Tennessee that did not see the light of day for almost 20 years. In June of 1971, Snooks recorded a solo album set up by producer Sam Charters for the Sonet label, which was based in London. Just vocal and acoustic guitar, it was another attempt to pass Snooks off as a folk-blues artist. Though it became the second volume of the label's Legacy of the Blues series, the record was no more to Snooks than some quick money in his pocket. After that, he became involved in a history-making project when Quint Davis, director of Jazzfest, who had hooked Snooks up with Fess, got him into the studio band led by Willie Tee for first Wild Magnolias album sessions in 1973; and the guitarist went appropriately wild with the wah-wah on the psychedelicised funk (see Mardi Gras music post below).

Recording opportunities did not materialize again until 1977, when Charters returned to record a second LP on Snooks for Sonet, Down Yonder, this time with a small combo and more of a New Orleans R&B feel.



"No More Doggin'" (J. L. Hooker)
Snooks Eaglin, from Down Yonder, Sonet, 1978
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

Here's Snooks doing his far more funky take on the Roscoe Gordon classic, "No More Doggin'" (with writer's credit on the record given to John Lee Hooker, who had done a cover version of the song). On Down Yonder Snooks was backed by some fine hometown players: Ellis Marsalis on piano (a jazz great who has never done many R&B sessions), brothers George and Bob French on bass and drums respectively, and Clarence Ford on sax. They gave him some good grooves and support to work with. But, while Snooks was in fine form, unfortunately, the LP had a near fatal flaw: his guitar was not well-recorded. It sounds like it was plugged directly into the mixing board on some cuts, including this one, giving it an insubstantial tone. On others, the guitar was first run through an overdrive/fuzz effect that made it buzz like a giant wasp. Annoying at best. Had the producer let Snooks plug into an amplifier with a decent microphone in front of it and left off the cheesy effect box, this record would have generated more enthusiasm.

Although Snooks continued to play Jazzfest, often with former Meters George Porter, Jr, and Zigaboo Modeliste backing him, and a few clubs, such as the newly opened Tipitina's, he did not make another recording until 1986, when he was lured into the Southlake recording studio in Metairie by brothers Hammond and Nauman Scott to make an album, Baby You Can Get Your Gun, for their new Black Top label. It is extremely difficult to capture the magic of a performer like Snooks on tape or a hard drive in the controlled confines of a studio; but producer Hammond Scott was able to get the right combination of material, players and vibe to finally give Snooks what he needed to make outstanding recordings. In all Snooks did five albums* for Black Top, before the label sadly folded near the close of the last century. I hope I am not stepping on any toes, if I include one of my favorite cuts from Snooks' Black Top days that appeared on his second CD, Out Of Nowhere.



"Oh Lawdy, My Baby" (T. Ridgley)
Snooks Eaglin, from Out Of Nowhere, Black Top, 1989
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

On this tune, written and originally recorded in 1953 by the great New Orleans vocalist and bandleader, Tommy Ridgley, Snooks and band stayed true to it's spirit and strong second line groove. Trading solos with guitarist Anson Funderburgh (who also recorded for the label), and saxman Kaz Kazanoff, Snooks let loose with some hot fretwork. Ron Levy was on organ; and drummer Marc Wilson and bassist Rhandy Simmons were, I think, members of Anson's band, the Rockets. I really dig how Snooks slips in a repeating lick from Rufus Thomas' "Walkin' The Dog" on the verses. That's the slyly inventive way he continually mixed things up.

As good as his Black Top albums were, Snooks was always best live, where his in the moment spontaneity and gonzo guitar work would always amaze, entertain and frequently amuse us. Sometimes his taking on virtually any request could be distracting, since he would go through the song trying to sing while calling out chord changes to the band. There is a funny example of this on YouTube, where he keeps losing George Porter on a song and telling him, "Follow me, son!" But everybody forgave Snooks that stuff, because he would turn around and peal off something utterly brilliant on the guitar, and always kept things at least interesting, danceable...and frequently funky. Though he could play myriad songs, he had stock numbers he did at most gigs, including this next one, which is another of my favorites in its original version and Snooksified as here, captured live a few years ago in New Orleans.



"Dizzy Miss Lizzy" (Larry Williams)
Snooks Eaglin
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

As Snooks would often tell a crowd, waxing educational from time to time, "This song was done by Larry Williams back in 1958, aw-rite?" Accompanied by George Porter on bass and drummer Kim Joseph, Snooks lets rip some outrageous runs on this pumped-up yet funked-out version of "Dizzy Miss Lizzy", making Williams original classic rock 'n roll record sound almost polite by comparison. Fird Eaglin, Jr. was born of a broken mold, perfectly imperfect, irreplaceable and unforgettable as a performer. He put his stamp on every word, note and chord of every song he played. For those of us who were blessed to have seen him have his way with various and sundry popular songs and shared in the obvous joy he had doing them, things just won't be the same without him around; and we can't help but be diminished by his loss. So, we'll just try to keep jammin' the tunes and remember the good times - aw-rite?

Actually, the Scott brothers put out one more Snooks project in 2002, now out of print, The Way It Is, on their Money Pit label (guess we know how they viewed the music business by that point). On most of it, Snooks is backed by Jon Cleary and the Absolute Monster Gentlemen. It's definitely one of Snooks' funkiest projects. Try to find a copy somehow.

[More Snooks on YouTube with George Porter, Jr., Jon Cleary, who I forgot to mention earlier, and a drummer who kind of looks like Kenny Blevins. Good stuff.]