May 24, 2009

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
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

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
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

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
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

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
(Tune in to HOTG Internet Radio)

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!

July 06, 2008

WILLIE WEST: A GENUINE SOUL SURVIVOR

LAST UPDATED 3/1/2015



The tag of Soul Survivor may be over-used; but it is well-suited to Willie West, another gifted singer and songwriter from the New Orleans area who has never gotten the breaks he deserved or credit he was due, despite a long and active career in music. The subject of my prior post, the late, great Eldridge Holmes, made some outstanding records with Allen Toussaint, but never could get a career established in the music business. By contrast, West, a contemporary and label-mate of Holmes on Deesu in the mid-1960s, currently has half a century of performing and recording under his belt, and at 66 is going stronger than ever. He has never let undeserved professional disappointments, health setbacks, or relative obscurity to the general public get in the way of his ability and drive to entertain, and still has faith that he can reach a wider audience.

Although I had read Jeff Hannusch's profile of West in The Soul of New Orleans, heard his early singles on Tuff City/Night Train
(Best of Rustone) and Ace (Frisco Records Story)
CD compilations, and owned copies of some of his work with Toussaint, it was not until I heard his hip, funky "Said To Myself" on grapevine's now deleted Crescent City Funk CD in 2002 that I really got the bug to pay him more attention. That inspired me to track down a copy of the hard to find, Allen Toussaint-produced Warner Bros. single with "Said To Myself" on the B-side. It took a while, but I got the record and began to do more research. I recalled that Larry Grogan had done a post on Funky 16 Corners about West's Josie recording of Toussaint's "Fairchild"; and in going back to re-read it, I saw in the comments that West himself had left Larry an appreciative note that included his email address. So, I decided to see if I could go to the source and find out some more about him and the sessions for the Warner Bros. 45. After some emails back and forth, he graciously agreed to take some time to speak to me by phone a few months back from his current home in Saint Cloud, Minnesota, where he and his wife moved after Katrina. We ended up talking at length about many aspects of his long career in music, and still could not cover it all. So, information I've gathered that didn't come from Willie West directly is supplemented by what I've learned from Hannusch's writings and Michael Hurtt's useful notes to The Best of Rustone, among other sources.

West has worked with some of the most significant names in New Orleans popular music; and an overview of his career reveals much about the ins, outs, ups, and downs of the entertainment and recording business there. This is a long piece, because I came up with a lot of information. Take it a bit at a time – it will be up indefinitely, and the audio will be active for a good while. I hope you will find it rewarding. A vinyl discography for West is included at the end of this feature, as well.


COMING OF AGE IN MUSIC

 
Born and raised just a little more than an hour's drive south and west of New Orleans in the rural community of Raceland, LA, Millard Leon (a/k/a Willie) West hit his teenage years in the mid-1950s, when the nearby big city was having its maximum impact on American popular music; and there were tons of classic R&B, blues, and early rock 'n' roll records on the AM radio airwaves, jukeboxes, and home turntables. Graced with a pleasing, adaptable voice and the desire to perform, by 15 West was lead vocalist for the Sharks, a band he got together with his guitarist cousin and two other high school friends. They played hits of the day by the likes of Elvis, Eddie Bo, B.B. King and Elmore James at both white and black clubs in the area. When he could, West started hanging out just up the road around promoter Hosea Hill's famous Sugar Bowl club in Thibodaux, LA, which regularly featured nationally known R&B and blues acts. West was too young to get in, but would sometimes watch from the windows. There he got to see and/or meet performers such as Ray Charles, Sam Cooke, Chuck Willis, Bobby Bland, Junior Parker, and the popular blues showman Guitar Slim (Eddie Jones), whose home base was the Sugar Bowl. Slim's partner and protégé, James 'Thunderbird' Davis, befriended West, tutored him in the blues, and dispensed valuable performance tips from time to time. When Guitar Slim died on tour in New York in 1959, the Sharks even backed Davis on some club dates when he returned to Louisiana.

Around the same time, West was recruited by a new label, Rustone, based in Houma, LA, which was owned by another promoter, Dorothy Lee, along with partners Tony Conino and Lee Delcambre. Recording as Little Willie West, his debut, which was also Rustone's first release, was cut at Cosimo Matassa's busy studio in New Orleans and backed by the Sharks. When it failed to get any attention, Ms Lee next went with West's own soulful ballad, "Did You Have Fun" and promoted the record by betting two disc jockeys at WXOK in Baton Rogue a bottle of scotch each that they couldn't make it a hit. Rising to the challenge, they played "Did You Have Fun" so much for the next few months that it became number one at the station. As a result, stations in New Orleans added it; and the song began to catch on there, too. That attracted Chess Records, which was active in the city at the time, represented by A&R man/producer Paul Gayten; and they re-released "Did You Have Fun" nationally on their Checker label. But, it seems the company didn't continue Dorothy Lee's promotional ploy; and the song never broke out beyond the region.

GETTING TO NEW ORLEANS

 
Around 1961, West did one more single for Rustone, which went nowhere, because the label has not having any repeat success getting airplay for their records; and by 1962, Rustone had closed up shop. So, West moved to New Orleans to get work, and soon landed gigs singing with popular groups such as Edgar Blanchard and the Gondoliers, Oliver and the Rockettes, and Deacon John and the Ivories. Along the way, he met trumpeter Warren 'Porgy' Jones, who was doing A&R work for a new local label, Frisco Records, which, like Rustone, was headed by a woman, in this case, Connie LaRocca, originally from San Francisco. Jones became West's manager, got him signed to the label, and produced his first two Frisco releases in 1963. They were run of the mill pop-ish affairs with fairly weak arrangements that West's strong vocals could not salvage and Frisco could not sell. So, Wardell Quezergue was called in to produce the next one, "Don't Be Ashamed To Cry" b/w “Am I The Fool", on which the singer was shown as Lil Willie West (which he was using on stage), with both sides written by Al Reed.




"Don't Be Ashamed To Cry" (Al Reed)
Lil Willie West, Frisco 111, 1964

Despite some audio distortion in the grooves of this Katrina-christened 45, the quality of West's vocal shines through, thanks to the nicely rendered, sympathetic Quezergue arrangement. This is the best of the singer's early sides and should have been his ticket to bigger things; but, even with classier songs and production, the single fared no better commercially than his other Fricso releases and was West's last for the label. Singer Danny White was Frisco's main focus; and West rightly feels that White often got the better material, arrangements and promotion. Not that it helped all that much. Although a popular local singer, White's recording career refused to blossom; and LaRocca, lacking strong sales and facing increasing distribution problems, ceased operation of Frisco by 1966.

A FATEFUL MEETING AND A FALSE START

 
Meanwhile, his lack of a hit record didn't keep West from working regularly as an entertainer around town. Not a mere stand and deliver singer, he worked the entire stage; and with agile dance moves and a versatile, expressive voice, he had a reputation for getting his audiences fired up. While with Frisco, he had by chance met Allen Toussaint at Cosimo's studio, and found that Toussaint was familiar with his work. It wasn't long after Frisco's demise that Toussaint convinced his business partner, Marshall Sehorn, to sign the singer to the newly formed Deesu label, part of their Tou-Sea production company. Added to the roster in 1966, West would continue to work on various Toussaint-produced projects for the better part of the next decade.

To my mind, Willie West's debut single on Deesu, "Hello Mama" b/w "Greatest Love" was not the greatest way of saying hello. What he was given to work with were two tracks that had already been recorded by Toussaint and Sehorn's main hit-maker, Lee Dorsey. The two Toussaint compositions had appeared on Dorsey's 1965 Amy LP, Ride Your Pony - Get Out My Life, Woman. Since they not been on 45 before, I guess the producers figured the songs were fair game for recycling; so, they recorded West's vocals over the previously used backing tracks. The results weren't bad; but the material was not Toussaint's best; and, having been written for Dorsey's limited range, the tunes did not offer West much to work with.

 


"Hello Mama" (A, Toussaint)
Willie West, Deesu 306, 1966


I've included "Hello Mama" as the case in point. Sorry that my near mint copy suffers from a bad pressing that makes the sonics somewhat fuzzy. But, it's good enough to hear what was going on. Musically, the best thing about the side to me is Toussaint's Professor Longhair-inspired piano work on the intro and running along during much of the song. Otherwise, it's a run of the mill track (for Toussaint) that didn't make much of anybody take notice of Willie West. The gimmicky, spoken verses during the breakdowns didn't quite work on Dorsey's version; and West couldn't make them sound any less lame, either; but, still, working with the hottest producer/arranger/songwriter in town was promising.

 


"Did You Have Fun" (W. West/D. Lee/L. Delcambre)
Willie West, Deesu 314, 1966


Toussaint gave West a chance to shine on his next single, which featured a remake of his earlier Rustone hit, "Did You Have Fun". The producer’s new arrangement created a perfect setting for West’s emotive vocal. As you all know, I am primarily a groove-seeker; but West's flawless deep soul delivery, coupled with the classy musical support and subtle flourishes Toussaint brought to this tune, are so killer that I had to include it. This version of the song can definitely be viewed as one of the highlights of West's recording career and should have garnered him a more substantial hit. But, again, it only got local attention, because the music business got in the way.

Deesu was distributed by studio-owner Cosimo Matassa's Dover Records, which pressed and sent records up the distribution chain. At this time, the operation was financially over-extended and under IRS investigation, hampering its ability to get records out. Soon thereafter, the hammer really came down when the IRS seized Matassa’s recording and pressing equipment, inventory, and master tapes for unpaid taxes. He declared bankruptcy; and the numerous small labels, including Deesu, that depended on Dover for exposure and sale of their product were effectively shut down, as well, many never to recover. To say the least, it was a monumental setback for the city's independent music scene and the struggling artists whose talent it represented, including those on Deesu - West, Eldridge Holmes, Warren Lee, and Maurice Williams, among others - who saw their records slip into oblivion.

Toussaint and Sehorn were more fortunate than most in the Dover debacle, because their main bread and butter man, Lee Dorsey, was on Amy, a national label removed from the local troubles in New Orleans. Thus, they had the resources to regroup and continue, re-naming their production company, Sansu, around 1968. The partners hired Art Neville and the Neville Sounds, who would soon be called the Meters, as their house band, set up the Sansu label, re-established Deesu, and struck new deals with larger labels for access to national markets. For whatever reasons, maybe just too much else going on, it took Sansu a while to get Willie West worked back into the recording line-up. In the meantime, he was performing with one of the most popular groups in New Orleans at the time, Deacon John's psychedelic funk-rock band, the Electric Soul Train.

MOVING AND GROOVING INTO THE 1970s 

 
By 1969, the Meters were having hits in their own right, with Toussaint and Sehorn placing their singles and albums with nationally distributed Josie Records. When Toussaint began work that year on two of his own songs, "Fairchild" and "I Sleep With The Blues" for West's next single project, the Meters would have been on the sessions. West is not exactly sure, because the tracks were recorded before he was brought in to lay down his vocals; but he's certain that Leo Nocentelli was playing the guitar. During that period, Toussaint was on an acoustic guitar kick. The instrument showed up on some of his own recordings, on several of Eldridge Holmes' later Deesu tracks (which were definitely backed by the Meters), West’s sides, and on Lee Dorsey's Yes We Can sessions.

 

Rhino's erroneous repro

"Fairchild" (Allen Toussaint)

"I Sleep with the Blues" (Allen Toussaint)
Willie West, Josie 1019, 1970


Never having scored the rare original version of this record [this has changed, see update below!], which is usually only seen in promo/DJ format, my copy was supposed to be a reproduction that was done for Rhino's limited edition What It Is! box set of singles. The mix on the reissue is also what is heard on their CD set and on at least one or two other CD compilations. Unfortunately, as I have learned through the help of other collectors, all the reissues are wrong.

I first found this out when I heard audio of an original DJ copy that Larry Grogan had found and posted on his fine Funky 16 Corners site. It was a decidedly different mix, more raw and in your face with a full horn section blowing on some highly active charts. The reissue version has no horns and a much more subtle mix, as I will discuss below.


For a long time, I thought the DJ copy might be an aberration of some kind. Several regular commenters and I sought a stock copy long and hard for comparison, but came up empty. Finally, none other that the extraordinary collector/DJ, Mr. Fine Wine, of WFMU and beyond contacted me the other day [2013] to let me know that he had heard both; and the stock and DJ copies are musically identical to each other. You can hear audio of a promo copy of "Fairchild" posted by another WFMU DJ, Brett Koshkin, on their blog. And, by the way, you can see from the photo on that post [and on my 2015 update] that Rhino got the label design wrong, as well!


[UPDATE 3/1/2015: I found a near-mint stock copy last year on auction and fortunately won it with a bid that I did not think was nearly what it is worth. For photos, further description and audio, see my current post.]

Thus, I can conclude that the reissuers have been perpetuating a mistake for years now. I don't know where in the chain of events that they got hold of the incomplete mix they have been using. Somebody unfamiliar with the original maybe just picked the wrong version on the reel. Or perhaps the original master take got lost over the years, and what they used was all they found, likely because those working on the reissue projects seem to have been unaware that what they had was not the original 45 mix. .

Toussaint's arrangement on my "Fairchild" from an alternate universe copy sounds spare, subdued and unfinished by comparison to the original. For the basic tracks he used at least a couple of acoustic guitar parts (the leads likely overdubbed), bass, drums and just a dash of organ on what was essentially a single chord song built of various repeating riffs - another frequent Toussaint gambit at the time. Nothing was overstated in this mix, lending the track a direct, intimate feel that brought West's soulful vocal into sharp focus. By contrast, the added horns on the original single mix at times compete with Willie's singing; but the overall finished track is a much more forceful statement [Willie has since told me that he sang on the track before the horns were were added. He did not hear the final result until I sent him a a copy.]

Nowhere near as melodic as "Did You Have Fun", this song required the singer to sell it more with the conviction and immediate appeal of this voice; and he did not fail to deliver. My sense is that all the Meters were likely present and accounted for on the tracks, but were just playing assigned parts. Remember that Toussaint often had very strict arrangements worked out for certain songs and expected them to be followed precisely. So, Zig Modeliste is likely drumming here, but not in his characteristic freely broken-up style. An innately creative drummer, he surely chafed under restrictions to keep it simple and hit only prescribed beats, and eventually stopped doing most non-Meters sessions for Toussaint. But on this one, we hear the band play the arrangement as it was given, pure and simple, clearing the way for the best from West.

The B-side, "I Sleep With The Blues", was not actually a blues at all but more of a conventional mid-tempo pop ballad, pleasant, but not all that substantial. Based on just a two chord change, it had the same instrumentation as "Fairchild", with the organ simply playing chords under the acoustic guitars. West did a nice job with the simple melody he was given. The one distinctive feature of this rarely heard Tousssaint tune was Zig's steady tom-tom beat throughout that sounds positively Native American. I am not sure what the producer was going for there. Also of note, since the re-issued A-side differed substantially from the 45, there seems to be no difference between the original and Rhino versions of this song. Go figure.

Toussaint and Sehorn placed the record with Josie; and it came out probably early in 1970. I am sure they were hoping to catch some of the Meters' success on the label; but, once again, West lost out. “Fairchild” got no push, as the label too was on a downward spiral of internal difficulties and would cease to exist within about a year, when its parent company was sold. He just couldn't catch a break from a solvent company.

UNDERCOVER WITH THE METERS ON BLACK SAMSON

 
After his only Josie single rode the bullet train to near oblivion, West's solo recording career went into hiatus for several more years, likely due to all that was going on for Sansu. Toussaint and Sehorn were focused on getting a deal for Lee Dorsey with Polydor, resulting in the classic Yes We Can LP, and recording other Meters-backed projects on Ernie K-Doe and Earl King. At the time, Toussaint also began to produce albums for outside artists such as Lou Johnson and Mylon LeFevre. Of course, the partners were still much involved with the Meters' career, too. With the demise of Josie, they shopped the band and Toussaint himself to Warner Bros., who signed both acts, enabling Toussaint to begin production on LPs for himself and the Meters that would appear in 1972. With Sansu Enterprises becoming a powerhouse production company, the partners decided to build their own recording facility in New Orleans; and, by 1973, Sea-Saint Studio was open and becoming active with in-house projects and more LP productions for national acts.

"Black Samson Theme" (Allen Toussaint)
(Special thanks to Gordon Fisher for uncovering this.)

Around that point, Toussaint was approached by Warner Bros. to do the soundtrack for one of the low-budget blaxploitation films being targeted at urban African-American audiences of the day, Black Samson ("Every Brother's Friend. Every Mother's Enemy."). He recruited at least some of the Meters to lay down the funky grooves, and Willie West to provide soulful vocals. I am not totally convinced that When the film came out in 1974, Toussaint's name was in the credits, but there was no mention of the band or singer. West told me that he and members of the Meters took offense at this and contacted the local paper to announce that they had done the soundtrack. They needn't have bothered, though, since the movie bombed and was gone in a flash. So fast, I don't think the soundtrack was ever released on LP, or, more appropriately, 8-track tape. My source for this audio, Gordon, tells me that there are just a couple of compete songs on the movie, anyway. I have yet to see it; although the trailer on YouTube probably has all the high points (A lion in a bar!? Plus plenty of car crashes, bad acting, and a fusillade of furniture and appliances), but only a hint of the music.

THE FINAL VINYL

 
By the mid-1970s, West got the green-light for another recording with Toussaint, and began a songwriting collaboration with a frequent Sea-Saint session player, guitarist Teddy Royal, with West writing the lyrics and Royal working up the music. Instead of registering as co-writers, though, they agreed to take full credit on a couple of songs apiece, several of which were used on West's next project for Sansu. Toussaint produced and arranged the sessions, using the Meters again, except Zig, who was replaced by Herman Ernest, another of the Sea-Saint studio regulars. Out of the sessions, only one single resulted, "It's Been So Long" b/w "Said To Myself", which was released on a promisingly stable label, Warner Bros., in 1975. West recalls that another of his songs, "Chasing Rainbows", written with Royal, was also cut and slated for release; but I have found no evidence that WB ever issued it. A few years later, though, Johnny Adams would record an effective cover of the song (Teddy Royal got the writing credit), which appeared on his 1978 Ariola LP, After All The Good Is Gone, and also on 45. Included on that album was Adams' own impressive version of "It's Been So Long", with a big orchestrated arrangement by Wardell Quezergue.

 


"It's Been So Long" (Millard Leon West)
Willie West, Warner Bros. 8087, 1975


Warner Bros. first released a double sided DJ copy of West's "It's Been So Long". But, for my money, the harder to find stock copy commercial issue is the one to have because of "Said To Myself" on the flip. This top side was an uptempo soul-pop number with a definite Southern rock feel, thanks to Royal’s chord changes and Nocentelli's extended riffing. The writers and producers seem to have targeted the mainstream crossover marketplace on this number. But, once more, that was not in the cards, despite another strong performance from West.

By this point, Toussaint had become a very successful, in-demand songwriter and producer, who had all but abandoned the 45 medium to focus on albums. Obviously, he still believed in West's talent, taking on this project to give the singer another shot; but, for whatever reason, Warner Bros. didn’t hold up their end of the deal. Though a label rep told West that the single was sent to radio stations all around the country, the singer checked around and couldn’t find any DJs who’d heard of it. You can still hear a hint of bitterness as he recounts the tale. It was indeed an unfortunate finale.




"Said to Myself" (Millard Leon West)

Would that some DJs could have gotten hold of the record and flipped it over, because "Said To Myself" undeniably shows Willie West's essential soul credentials: the ability to express meaning inside the lyrics and evoke the emotion at the heart of the song with a voice that rewards repeat plays. Toussaint's economical, uncluttered arrangement, swaying with poly-rhythmic counterpoints, sets off West to perfection, allowing the singer to traverse the dynamics of the song with ease and grace. Though consigned to a humble B-side, this is a performance to remember: his last artful stand on vinyl in a heartless, soulless record land.

WHO DAT UP THERE WITH DA METERS?

 
With recording prospects slim to none, West continued to gig, joining another local band,
the Renegades, in 1976, who had brothers Aaron and Charles Neville as members. He also worked solo on double and triple bills at clubs like Prout's Alhambra, where he would be booked with other popular singers, such as Johnny Adams or Aaron Neville, or both. His intense showmanship coupled with his choice of material would always win over the crowds. Then, out of the blue one day, he was in the Meters.

Willie West's tenure with the Meters is not widely known, since the facts do not appear in the "official" histories of the band I have seen, including the Neville Brothers' collective autobiography; but George Porter, Jr. has publicly acknowledged that West was a band member. After the acrimonious departure of Art and Cyril Neville right as the New Directions album came out in 1977, the Meters regrouped and tried to continue. West was immediately enlisted and began singing with them on the road and at home. As he told me:
I was asked to join the Meters by Zig and Leo, when Art and Cyril had left the group already... just before the Meters did Saturday Night Live [a popular TV show in the US on NBC]. They actually stood the band up just before the show, and Leo, Zig and George had to scramble to find a keyboard player. David Batiste, the keyboardist of the Batiste Brothers, did SNL with them. I joined right after the SNL taping. They used David for a short while. Art returned for a short time. Then they had [yet another] falling out, and Art left for good. The Meters then used Fred Riley [?]; and after Fred was Craig Wroten. After Craig, they hired David Torkanowskiy and went on the road with Dr. John. They kept me on salary for awhile, but stopped paying me. So, when they returned from touring with Dr. John, I had moved on....

Obviously the band had some difficulty keeping the keyboard slot filled; and, though they played some dates on the East Coast and continued to gig locally at clubs such as Tipitina's, Jed's, Rosie's, and the Kingfish in Baton Rouge, the wheels came off the band pretty much for good within a year or so, after the Dr. John tour. When he was with the group, West not only ably covered vocal duties on some of the band's original material, but helped them get over with unfamiliar crowds.We played in New York at an outdoor festival. This is the first time I went there with them. They were playing their stuff, "Cissy Strut", and the audience wasn't into it. The first band had fired them up; but [the Meters]. . . had played about 20 minutes with the people just looking at them. I told Leo, "You can't keep playing your music, man. Can't you see they're not into your stuff?" I told him to kick off "It's Your Thing" by the Isley Brothers, and I starting singing. Then we went into James Brown. . . The people went nuts. Then we slipped "Hey Pockey Way" and "Fire On the Bayou" in there and the band realized what they had to do. . . . We played a show in Boston opening for Elvin Bishop. It was supposed to be for three nights. And when we came on the first night. . . we had all them kids dancing around and screaming; and by the time Elvin Bishop had to come on after us, they were just lost. Do you know, they cancelled their next two nights. We put so much fire on 'em. I was running across the stage like Mick Jagger.

SHOWBOATIN’

 

Somewhere around then.. . .

"No More Okey Doke" (A. Neville-C. Neville-G. Porter, Jr.-J. Modeliste-L. Nocentelli)
The Meters, featuring Willie West, live at the Showboat Lounge, July 25, 1977


Well, we don't have video; but for some direct audio evidence, here is Mr. West with the post-Neville Meters, including an unidentified keyboardist and a wacko MC, at the Showboat Lounge in Metairie, LA, the summer of 1977. The gig was broadcast on WNOE in New Orleans at the time, and is one of several the Meters did from the Showboat that are floating around. Last December, I featured a selection from an earlier show that year, when Art and Cyril were still on-board. But, this is the only set I have found of West with the Meters - or, as Zigaboo was already calling them, the Funky Meters.

Although the audio is far from ideal, this song and the handful of others from that night show the band was still smokin' and gettin' down funky, even with George, just a MONSTER on the bass, trying to go into the chorus a couple of bars early at the end – after all, it was a new song back then. Despite being a new addition, Willie shows he could flat sing his ass off and hold his own running with the big dogs. My wife saw a similar configuration of the Meters with West in 1977 at the Cahoots club in Baton Rouge and can attest to the singer's flamboyant style. He was dressed in his soul cowboy outfit - hat, big belt, and boots - all in black and silver, and really worked the crowd, as she recalls (for some reason, she didn’t take notes). Of course, she and probably the rest of the crowd were confused as to who this wild Willie West guy was, since he wasn't on any of the albums; and the inner-workings and dysfunctions of the band were not common knowledge at the time. Still, none of that mattered in the hot, party atmosphere they generated. Too bad, so sad, that it could not have lasted longer, since, as Willie relates, there were also studio recordings:
I recorded eight or nine songs with George, Leo, and Zig. Art might have played on some; I'm not sure. . . These were all new songs, but never came out. . . . I don't know what happened to the album I did with them. They broke up shortly after that; and it was never released. I've asked Zig and Leo if they have copies of it, and nobody is admitting any knowledge of its whereabouts. Disappointing.

To say the least! Of course, when the Meters took the big bucks to re-form (NOT reform), in 2005 and 2006, it was kept to just the original feuding four. Not even a mention of Cyril or Willie. You can kind of see why they might not want those sessions with West to surface. The paydays stayed strictly 4-way. Had they been able to hold together longer, maybe they might have brought back the other vocalists, and even resurrected the unissued material; who knows.

About "No More Okey Doke". It doubles the irony to hear West singing this song that appeared on New Directions and had been co-written by all the band at the time, including Cyril, who recorded the vocal. If you listen to the words, it is about betrayal, break-up and change . Surely, it was no accident it was the lead-off track on the album from a band in seething turmoil most of the time. The next track had Art singing "I'm Gone". Telegraphing some new directions, indeed. But, the song has taken on a new life and meaning after Katrina and the Federal Flood in New Orleans. Ivan Neville and
Dumpstaphunk started including it in their intensely funky sets, making it an anthem for a defiant city that truly will never be okey doke again.

SURVIVING LIVE 

 
Having been effectively laid-off by the Meters, West started singing around town again. He joined the Uptown Rulers, a large funky aggregation of singers and players led by his friend, Bobby Love (a/k/a Robert McLaughlin) who he had gigged with in Deacon John’s bands, the Ivories and the Electric Soul Train. Aaron and Charles Neville were also in the Uptown Rulers for a time; but soon left to join Art and Cyril and start up the Neville Brothers Band. The UR band broke up within a couple of years and, from there, West gravitated to the wilds of Bourbon Street, where the work was plentiful, if uninspiring, and was a regular there for nearly 20 years.

About a dozen years ago, he was done with the Mall of Debauchery, but kept performing elsewhere in and out of town. He teamed up again with Bobby Love, who produced and played on West’s first CD,
From West With Love, in 1999. He followed it in 2000 with When Love Ain't There, produced by Carl Marshall. His most recent CD, When You Tie The Knot, came out in 2002. All feature West's soulful treatment of various R&B and blues material, including his own originals.

While many of his contemporaries have passed on or been sidelined by illness, West considers himself blessed to still be performing. Crediting his wife for urging him to stay healthy and get regular medical checkups, he was fortunate to have a routine screening detect the early stages of prostate cancer, allowing it to be treated and cured - making his survivor designation that much more appropriate.

In the aftermath of Katrina, the Wests decided to try their fortunes elsewhere; and, since making their way to Saint Cloud, outside of Minneapolis, a couple of years ago, Willie’s career has been revitalized. He put together a band, schooled them in his style of soul and blues, and began getting work at the Dakota Jazz Club and other venues in the area, where he found more respect and better paying gigs than New Orleans had to offer. Recently, he has several CD projects in the works. He maintains an active schedule**, as can be seen on
his MySpace page. [Update 2011: Willie has recorded two 45s released in the European market by Timmion Records (see discography and sleeve shots below), and appeared at the 2010 Ponderosa Stomp in New Orleans. He will do his first ever New York City show in Brooklyn, February 26, 2011.]

Considering his background, the way he came up in the business, West rightly sees himself as an authentic performer, deeply rooted in soul and blues music that he learned from the masters. And, after all that he has been through over the years, the good breaks and the deals gone bad, he keeps on keeping on, singing at the top of his game and still connecting with his audiences, never having lost the fire, determination, and potential to make a bigger name for himself in music. He has paid more than his share of dues for it; and if anybody should be in line for more success, Willie West is the man.

Asked if he had some closing words for my readers, he gave me one of his favorite movie lines, saying, "Tell 'em I'm coming, and I'm bringing Hell with me!"

So, look out for Willie West!


WILLIE WEST VINYL DISCOGRAPHY
Rustone 1401 (Little Willie West) - You Stole My Heart/Sweet Little Girl - 1960
Rustone 1403 - Did You Have Fun/A Man Like Me – 1960
Checker 965 - Did You Have Fun/A Man Like Me - 1960
Rustone 1406 - It's No Use To Try/Willie Knows How -1961
Frisco 107 - I'm Back Again/Lost Love - 1963
Frisco 108 - You Told Me/I Need You Love (Baby) - 1963
Frisco 111 (Lil' Willie West) -Don't Be Ashamed To Cry/Am I The Fool- 1964
Deesu 306 - Greatest Love/Hello Mama - 1966
Deesu 314 - Did You Have Fun/Keep You Mine - 1966
Deesu 317 - Baby Baby I Love You/Face the Music - 1966/67
Seven B 7037 (?) - Did You Have Fun/Keep You In Mind [sic] - 1969
[possible re-issue of Deesu 314 sides -which would be strange- or an error]
Fraternity 1019 - I Sleep With the Blues/ Fair Child – 1969
[note: probably an error in listings, as per Bob at The R&B Indies]
Josie 1019 - Fairchild/I Sleep With the Blues - 1970
Warner Bros. 8087 - It's Been So Long/Said to Myself - 1975
Timmion 019 - The Devil Gives Me Everything, Part 1 & 2 - 2009
Timmion 023 - Lesson of Love, Part 1 & 2, - 2010




I greatly appreciate the research assistance of Jon Tyler of the Complete Neville Recording Chronology and Bob McGrath of The R&B Indies and forthcoming Soul Discography.

**


Here's a clip of Willie at the above Southpaw show, courtesy of Skeleton Pete.

December 14, 2009

James Rivers: It Ain't Over Yet

[Revised 12/21/2009]

Back in September, we got to catch
Jon Cleary's new band, Piano, Bass & Drums, at Tipitina's Uptown in New Orleans. I guess, after calling his previous group the Absolute Monster Gentlemen, Jon was looking for something a bit less hyperbolic in a name. Despite the generic branding, his impressive, re-configured group (absolutely monstrous in their own right) put on a memorable show. Joining Jon, who played a lot of acoustic piano that night, were Matt Perrine on acoustic bass and tuba (the great James Singleton has played acoustic bass on some later gigs), and drummer extraordinaire, Doug Belote, with an extra-special guest sitting in, blowing hot saxophone all night, the cool and classy James Rivers.

I hadn't seen Mr. Rivers play since a split gig he did at the Rock 'n' Bowl some years back, which, as I recall, was marred by a bad sound system (and/or operator thereof); so it was a sweet pleasure to hear him in this much more favorable context, complementing and accentuating Cleary's always funky, soulful sounds. As I listened, it occurred to me that I had some cuts by Rivers that I had been meaning to post for a long time; and I actually remembered to dig them out of the archives, so we could celebrate the man and his music again while he is still very much with us.


I've done several previous posts on Rivers and his work, which you can refer for a bit more background:
Hearing Mr. Rivers (includes a partial discography)
A Second Line Mambo

I suppose featuring James Rivers right after I've put my seemingly endless Eddie Bo series on hiatus works into the great scheme of things, since Rivers did a lot of session work for Bo in the Seven B days of 1966 - 1967, although that's not a connection we'll explore right now. But we will see and hear a single by the reed man from around that same period. I'll follow that up with something from about a decade later that Rivers laid down for Senator Jones. For no special reason, these three tracks have "it" in the title.

The Kon-Ti Key

As I noted in some research I did for Soul Detective back in 2007, the Kon-Ti label was owned by Lionel Worthy, an auto repairman who had a recording studio set up in a building behind his business, which was located at 2823 Conti (some pronounce it "con-tee", some "con-tie") Street, in the Mid-City area of New Orleans. Worthy cut records there for his own labels as well as doing some projects for others, probably between 1967 and 1968. Besides Kon-Ti, he had also set up the Eight-Ball label earlier; and the two had a combined total output of around a dozen known singles in their brief run. As shown in my discography noted above, James Rivers did at least four singles** for Eight-Ball (you can hear sides from one of those at that Soul Detective link). According to the R&B Indies, Eight-Ball was distributed by Cosimo Matassa's Dover Records operation, which was shut down by the IRS around 1967/1968, as was his studio. That debacle likely took Eight-Ball under with it, as it did so many small local labels that relied on Cos' services. Kon-Ti probably also suffered collateral damage, as it looks like Rivers' first single, which we'll focus on here, also went through Dover before dropping from sight. Worthy seems to have attempted to get the few later singles for the label manufactured elsewhere; but that still would have left him with very limited options for getting his records promoted and out into the marketplace. The title of this first track neatly, and surely unintentionally, summed up the state of the record business in New Orleans at the time, reminding us that the reason the releases on these labels are so hard to find now is that they were hard to find 40 years ago!




"It's All Over" (James Rivers)
James Rivers, Kon-Ti 1160, ca 1968
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A choice track that doesn't seem to has been comped. . .yet (more on that in a minute), this Rivers minor key original is one of the jazzier takes (that I have heard) he did for Worthy. The groove was definitely bossa nova influenced, and kudos to the unknown drummer for just the right touch of subtle syncopation he brought. As a matter of fact, what makes the entire piece effective is the understated way it was delivered, letting the beat and subdued, moody feel pull you in, perfectly setting up Rivers to rip into his fine solo. Then, after a short but effective piano interlude, the group lightly sambas to the fade. Usually, I find it hard to tolerate background vocalists on instrumentals; but I'll even give a nod to the singers who were tastefully used here.

You'll note on the labels that the tracks were arranged by Theo(dore) 'Teddy' Riley, a fine jazz trumpeter, who also played on the record, as I found out after being contacted over a year ago by a company looking to put this song on a compilation. Since it still hasn't been commercially re-released, as far as I can tell, I won't give away my source; but I did some research for them on it. In return, I learned that James Rivers told them that the line-up on the single, that he could recall, were Riley, bassist George French, and perhaps Marcel Richardson on piano - he wasn't sure. To me, the pianist here sounds more like Edward Frank, who had a particular sound in that he played only with his right hand, having lost the facility in his left due to a stroke years earlier. I know that the well-respected Frank, who also produced records, used Worthy's studio during this period - so he's a good candidate. Rivers also didn't remember the names of the singers, but said they were a trio - husband, wife and a friend - new to recording.

In all, this side is certainly among Rivers' best, and worthy of seeing the light of day again. The flip side was no slouch either, though it had a totally different feel.



"Get With It" (James Rivers)
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This one came out of the brass band, street parade tradition with its joyous, struttin' second line feel. A thoroughly New Orleans number. Rivers and Riley got fired up in a hurry, trading echo riffs and delivering strong solos. But, when it was time to give the pianist some, the instrument was almost lost in the mix. I can hear enough of it, though, to realize that it was a two-handed performance, ruling out Ed Frank and making me think it must be Richardson, at least on this one.

I got this single shortly after I moved to Louisiana, and, frankly, didn't pay it much mind, until I received that inquiry about it and listened again. Glad I did. It's an example of the kind of impressive stuff that could come out on small label releases, generally meant for just local consumption and hoped-for modest returns for the label owner. Such records were often used by the artists as a short-term means to get gigs, rather than seen as avenue to the commercial mainstream, which would have been a pure stroke of luck. Certainly, no one was considering that the music and records themselves would be prized by collectors many decades later, especially after many of these labels vanished as suddenly as they appeared with the demise of Cosimo's business model.

Yet, a few small label owners regrouped and endured, and some new ones formed, providing a continued outlet for local music and musicians. The 1970s would find Rivers recording for one of the survivors, a man who hustled and stayed in the game a long time.

The Senator Steps In

Once Allen Toussaint and his partner, Marxhall Sehorn, of Sansu Enterprises turned their main production focus away from singles and onto LPs for their own acts and assorted outsiders in the early 1970s, a gaping hole was left in the New Orleans singles market that a number of local labels were left to fill. Of those, Senator Jones, who had been running small, flash-in-the-pan record outfits in New Orleans since the mid-1960s, succeeded in gaining the majority of market share, operating the Superdome, Hep' Me and J.B.'s (a/k/a J-Bees) imprints, the latter two having the majority of his 1970s output, mainly singles, but a few albums as well. Before Toussaint and Sehorn built and opened Sea-Saint Studios around 1973, recording venue choices were limited in the Crescent City, since Cosimo's operation had been sold off to pay for back taxes in the late 1960s. Some work went to Knight Studio in Metairie and other small facilities in the area, but producers who could, including Jones and Sansu , went out of town. Senator Jones often used Deep South in Baton Rouge, until Sea-Saint came on line. From then on, the majority of his sessions were there, using the many great players in town who regularly hung around the premises seeking work.

Although he occasionally leased singles to nationally distributed labels and for a while had Johnny Adams signed to Chelsea Records, most of Jones' productions were just for the local market. He was shown as producer on the records, but that had more to do with his financial interest. He did not really oversee the recording phase himself, using leaders and arrangers such as Raymond 'Ray J' Jones, Wardell Quezergue or Sam Henry to run the sessions. On his instruction they would crank out backing tracks in a kind of assembly line operation with as few takes as possible to keep costs down; and various singers would come in and overdub their vocals later. Understandably, many of those records sounded rather sterile or musically generic, with only a few having the quirks, sparks, or outright fire of the records of earlier days, or what Toussiant was often cooking up in the same building. So, when Rivers began recording on J.B.'s in the mid-1970s, that was scene he came into.

Rivers had at least half a dozen singles issued on J.B.'s in the mid to late 1970s, and two LPs - (almost) all instrumental, mostly soul and funk. Over the years, I've acquired several of his singles from this period but didn't have either LP on vinyl* until I found a brand new re-issue of Thrill Me at Domino Sound in New Orleans last year (still available at Dusty Groove). I don't know who put it out, but it seems to be an exact replica of the original. Only the $10.00 (or less) price gave it away; and I was glad to find it, not just for the vinyl, but for the blurry front cover shot, which belongs in the borderline sleaze hall of fame; plus, the back has some bio information on Mr. Rivers, songwriting credit,s and miraculously lists the session players.



"Take It All" ( (Emmanuel Morris)
James Rivers, from
Thrill Me, J.B.'s Records 101, ca 1976
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While most of the tunes on this album have that "Weather Channel" kind of generic, interchangeable, instrumental jazz/funk feel to them, they are still quite palatable and serve to get you movin ' to the groove. When I first heard it, "Take It All" reminded me of a tune I could not quite place. Finally it dawned on me that this song's main 16 bar set of changes with the descending chords in every other four bar section is very similar to Willie Tee's funky "Cold Bear", recorded by the Gaturs in 1971. It's not the only recycled riff on the album, either. The credited arranger and songwriter for half of the tracks, Emmanuel Morris, who also played bass throughout, was obviously also inspired on other tunes by licks from popular funk hits of the era by the Average White Band and the Cate Brothers. Of course, Rivers was just the main hired gun here, and didn't control the content, although he acknowledged to Jeff Hannusch that all the musicians collaborated on the "head charts" for these tunes, no matter who got the actual arranging credit. But his main job was to blow; and here he did so on alto sax with fluidity and style.

Looking over the listed musicians, there was really only one surprise: Wilbert Arnold (later known as 'The Junkyard Dog', who passed away just about a year ago) on drums, who must have been around 20 when he made this date. As far as I know, he was not a regular at Sea-Saint and had probably just joined Walter 'Wolfman' Washington's band at the time. However he got here, he's in excellent form on this record; and I particularly recommend another LP track, "Balls of Funk" (no foolin'), for his really broken-up stuff. Musically, that track is not quite as engaging as "Take It All", but is a rhythmic killer. I'll be adding it to the HOTG Radio stream soon. Besides Morris on bass, Teddy Royal played all guitar parts. Those of you who follow the posts here will recall that my friend, Teddy, was a regular at Sea-Saint in those days and played many Senator Jones sessions, as well as some of Toussaint's projects. Finally, Raymond Jones was on keyboards and got the arranger credit for the other material - no relation the Senator, I don't think, but his right-hand man.

A few years later, Rivers recorded another album for J.B.'s, Olé, which had some even more generic WC soul/funk stylings, some standards, and even an ill-advised blues with vocal. Those something-for-everybody records rarely work out. There may have been a 45 or two after that, but I don't have the dates or the records. As I pointed out in my 2006 post (linked above) on one of his J.B.'s singles, some of his best stuff came later, when he was a regular at Tyler's Beer Garden in the 1980s, playing with some fine young jazz guns, and recording The Dallas Sessions LP with them in 1985.

Despite the funky grooves I favor, I keep going back to the tracks on Kon-Ti 1160. There's something pure and genuine about those performances, revealing James Rivers in his element, it seems to me. I get the same vibe from him there that I got when he was with Cleary - very hip, tasteful, in control, and on top of his game. So glad he's still with us.

* [Both of Rivers' J.B.'s albums are compiled on the Mardi Gras Records CD, Best of New Orleans Rhythm & Blues Volume Three: James Rivers. Also, I just checked, and tracks from that CD are available for download at iTunes.] **Thanks again to Peter
for letting me know of the existence of Eight-Ball 2555, which is not shown in The R&B Indies.