Showing posts with label Dr. John. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dr. John. Show all posts

CD Review: Dr. John – The Atco/Atlantic Singles 1968-1974

CD Review: Dr. John – The Atco/Atlantic Singles 1968-1974
Omnivore Records
All Access Rating: A-

Dr. John - The Atco/Atlantic
Singles 1968-1974 2015
All of America's confounding contradictions are laid bare in Dr. John's "The Patriotic Flag Waver," the mono version of which appears on a new compilation, from Omnivore Recordings, of the New Orleans icon's best-loved music titled The Atco/Atlantic Singles 1968-1974.

Set to martial drums, some light acoustic guitar strumming and a playful, slightly off-key children's choir singing "My Country, 'Tis of Thee," the beautifully messy, spoken-word reading perfectly encapsulates – without judgment – the cultural and socio-political idiosyncrasies of a country that aspires to greatness and often falls short. Given the current divisiveness over race, religion and any number of hot-button topics that drive people into a frothing rage these days, the song – guileless and honest, to a fault – couldn't possibly be more relevant.

This well-curated collection, complete with insightful and reverential penned liner notes by musicologist Gene Sculatti, gathers together both the A- and B-sides Dr. John recorded for Atlantic's labels during a stretch of particularly inspired work. Revisiting "The Patriotic Flag Waver" – a history lesson that sounds like a distant echo or a recovered memory in mono – is, in and of itself, a rewarding and thought-provoking journey through the nation's checkered past. Still, that's just one of heady intoxicants in a 22-song survey that, while less than comprehensive, serves as an ecumenical worship of an artist and the music of his native home, and a serious lesson in the musical lexicon and history of The Big Easy.

An easy stroll through the diverse sounds of the Bayou, the music of Dr. John is a melange of swampy R&B, jazz, psychedelia, pop, funk, rock 'n' roll and whatever else happens to be trolling through the backstreets of New Orleans blowing sun-dappled, dewey horns. Like a more languorous and soulful Tom Waits, he slinks down Tin Pan Alley in the jazzy, minstrel shamble of "Jump Sturdy" and shuffles through the subdued, engaging R&B of "Mama Roux." However, darkness and danger are present in the mysterious murk of "I Walk On Gilded Splinters" Parts I and II and the sinister "Gris-Gris Gumbo Ya Ya," as a creepy Dr. John, aka Mac Rebennack, declares himself to be "known as the night tripper" over rolling drums, with hypnotic, zombie-like vocals swaying and moaning as if caught in a voodoo trance.

A Grammy winner six times over, Dr. John is a soulful singer and a wickedly clever keyboardist, his great feel for the material and what it needs always apparent, whether he's shaping the slinky grooves of "Loop Garoo" and the smash hit "Right Place Wrong Time," or laying back and playing it cool on a breezy "Wash Mama Wash." He makes the electric-piano boogie of "Wang Dang Doodle" seductively bounce and gyrate across the dance floor, while the summery "Such A Night" twinkles and sashays under the stars, the high-stepping energy of "Iko Iko" exudes light and "A Man Of Many Words" – where Dr. John is joined by Eric Clapton and Buddy Guy – gets lost in deep, bluesy reflection.

Protective of its traditions, but not inextricably bound to them, Dr. John is a New Orleans institution, an almost mythical figure ingrained in the old, decaying fabric of a haunted city. Among the producers, writers and arrangers he's rubbed elbows with are sainted names like Clapton and Guy, Ahmet Ertegun, Jerry Wexler , Allen Toussaint, Willie Dixon. Even among such esteemed company, Dr. John – his slightly raspy voice a cocktail that brings on a drowsy buzz all by itself – stands out, his outsized personality and reputation for wildly theatrical performances matched only by the singular character of a place unlike anywhere else. To find the real Dr. John, wander through The Atco/Atlantic Singles 1968-1974 and then seek out the rest of his catalog. It's easy to fall under the spell of the Night Tripper.
– Peter Lindblad

CD Review: Humble Pie – Performance: Rockin' the Fillmore – The Complete Recordings

CD Review: Humble Pie – Performance: Rockin’ the Fillmore – The Complete Recordings
Omnivore Recordings
All Access Rating: A

Humble Pie - Performance: Rockin' the
Fillmore - The Complete Recordings
Humble Pie wanted to play the Fillmore East as often as they could, and who could blame them? As drummer Jerry Shirley says in Tim Cohen’s revelatory liner notes for Performance: Rockin’ the Fillmore – The Complete Recordings, the lavish and expansive new re-packaging of Pie’s much-lauded 1971 breakthrough double-live album, “They had the best sound, the best lights, the best seating – everything about the place was absolutely fabulous.”

Audiences there were notoriously tough to please, but Humble Pie almost always had them eating out of their hand, as guitarist Peter Frampton remembers. Also quoted by Cohen for this absolutely staggering release, Frampton explained, “They either loved you or hated you; there was no in-between. And they loved the Pie, so whenever we played there, we went down remarkably well, and the response got bigger and bigger each time.”

Still in search of that bust-out smash-hit recording that would serve as some sort of validation for a super group so much was expected from when they formed in 1969, Humble Pie and their brain trust at Premier Talent Agency figured a concert album might do the trick. After all, Humble Pie was far from dull onstage, playing with an insatiable fire in the belly and a supremely confident swagger from the very start.

Merging the sublime talents of ex-Small Faces singer and rhythm guitarist Steve Marriott – he of the larger-than-life personality and gloriously ragged wail – and a shit-hot upstart in Frampton with those of former Spooky Tooth bassist Greg Ridley and young drummer Jerry Shirley, Humble Pie was a hot-wired hard-rock outfit onstage, cocksure of their abilities and exceedingly comfortable in their own blues smeared skin. Disappointing sales from four albums and a handful of singles indicated that not everyone was getting the message. It was time to try something different.

So, Pie set up for two nights of four sold-out shows at the fabled venue on May 28 and 29, 1971 that would be recorded for Performance – only a few hearty selections from each were poached for the original release. The headliner was Lee Michaels, but Pie was the main draw. Everybody knew it. And Pie did not disappoint, giving their well-chosen cache of covers and a smattering of originals a sweaty, greased-up workout that showcased the raw energy and wild-eyed joy that poured out of their souls when they were giving it their all.

Every one of those smoldering Fillmore East sets are included in Performance: Rockin’ the Fillmore – The Complete Recordings in their entirety, unedited and sequenced just as they happened. Because of that, the set lists of all four discs are almost identical, but Pie’s raucous and reverent treatment of each song differs in such subtle and interesting ways that repetition never leads to boredom. With Frampton and Shirley overseeing the mixing, quality assurance was not an issue. The sound is pure and warm. Nothing is muffled or meek in any way, and there’s not a hint of artificiality to be found anywhere – the gritty nastiness of their prowling version of Ida Cox’s “Four Day Creep” comes off as positively carnal every time, while the seamy, stomping blues of “I’m Ready” happily wallows in its sinful nature, sometimes coming off edgy and mean and at other times rather fun and good-humored. Their slow-cooked goodness is to be savored.

Discs 1 and 3 comprise the rousing first shows from both days, and the sets lists are similar – with one exception, as the May 29 opening performance closed with a lusty take on “Stone Cold Fever” that was included on the original release of Performance, while the May 28 date has a stormy conclusion, as Pie tenaciously rips and tears through “I Don’t Need No Doctor” with righteous fury. More feverish and humid, the other versions of “I Don’t Need No Doctor” that close Discs 2and 4, which include the second shows of both days, respectively, are looser and more engaging but swing just as hard.

Though volatile at times, as evidenced by Frampton’s dissatisfaction with his shrinking role in the band and his departure prior to Performance’s initial release, Pie had an organic chemistry that was not just logical, but also transcendent and instinctual. Aside from the searing leads and lovably dirty tones, there is a preternatural interaction between Frampton and Marriott that is fascinating to witness, as the play off each other so melodically and with such ease of motion in extended jams on “I Walk on Gilded Splinters,” the old Dr. John number revived by Pie for each show that go on for more than 26 minutes. They never let precision get in the way of feeling and emotion, and when one takes a left turn, the other meets up with him at the crossroads, sometimes taking an alternate, and just as intriguing, route that parallels that of his partner but is altogether different, before they come together again and drive like bats out of hell.

All the while, Shirley and Ridley are tending their own gardens, growing a rich variety of intoxicating drum patterns and cultivating strong bass lines to form a wonderful musical root system. And when the sunny disposition of Ray Charles’s “Hallelujah (I Love Her So)” shines through hazy windows of distorted guitar, smiles appear. Omnivore Recordings has connected us again to that special quality Humble Pie had in concert settings that shook people out of their doldrums and really communicated with them – the long rambling dialogues sung by Marriott during quiet moments creating a sort of connection with audiences that someone who buys a round for the bar might engender, as Frampton’s guitar echoes his lively, jovial toasts and emotional entreaties with clear phrasing that practically beams its approval.

For all of Pie’s esteemed instrumental chops, they valued simplicity and the power of a well-crafted song, but they took them to places their authors never dreamed of, adding more color and sometimes turning them completely inside-out – never disrespecting the originators’ vision and intent. And on Performance: Rockin’ the Fillmore – the Complete Recordings, Pie displays the spontaneity and daring musicianship that made them so electrifying. This collection proves you can never have too much Pie.
– Peter Lindblad