Posts Tagged ‘Muddy Waters’

Mojo’s Cold Shot: Bo Diddley, “Drive By: Tales From the Funk Dimension”

One of the many things I love about Popdose is our collective freedom to write different kinds of posts: Sometimes you gets yourself a Cold Shot related to some bit of blues news, or sometimes we reach back into the archives to espouse the greatness of an evergreen-but-bona-fide classic.

And still other times, such as this week, we share discoveries that might not be new—but they’re new to us.

Not long ago, cruising Bomp’s spam of the week, this tasty little CD came up for grabs: Bo Diddley’s Drive By: Tales From the Funk Dimension 1970-73, compiling tracks from four lost classic Chess albums issued in the early 1970s and available on—get this—Australian import.

Are you kidding me? After buying roughly 8,000 albums and being graced by probably as many promo copies, record titles alone rarely—if ever—sway an album purchase. But with a name like that, even in these cash-strapped days, it sounded just too good to pass up. Blues-funk of the early 1970s can be fantastic, as the old guard like Bo Diddley, Albert King, and Buddy Guy latched on to the urban sounds coming out of Chicago blues clubs and the second wave of the Memphis Stax soul sound led by Black Moses himself. So Mojo laid his money down. (more…)

Mojo’s Cold Shot: Super Session Live at the Fillmore East

Something about vintage blues performed by the original artists thrills me; resonates in my bones. For many years, I tried to listen to a lot of well-meaning white musicians playing the same songs and tried get the same kicks, but with a few exceptions, most of the recordings just didn’t do it for me. Elmore James is Elmore James, and you can’t duplicate that, no matter how many expensive guitars you own and how many lessons you take. Or J.B. Lenoir and that gorgeous, fuzzy sound. Or Bo Diddley’s bouncing grooves. Or Junior Wells’ harmonica, messin’ with that kid. Buddy. B.B. I don’t have to even finish the names, they’re so good. You know exactly who I’m talking about, don’t you?

While some folks would call that the very definition of a blues purist, I came to realize it was just me being a blues dickhead. Some white guys can bring just as much blues game, I now admit (but not Clapton, yet).

Still, I have a hard time enjoying much blues outside the classics, despite trying to keep an open mind on the matter. Lately–like, say the last five years–I’ve become a 1960s garage rock junkie, collecting as many obscurities in that realm as I can afford. Sifting through that stuff, I can testify that there are some smokin’ renditions of Bo Diddley and Muddy to be heard in garage milieu, performed with more joy and respect than some of Muddy’s peers who were out on the touring circuit at the time, doing pat run-throughs of “Hoochie Coochie Man” just to please the crowd and getting the college kids to yell dope-fueled “YEAHHHs” and “AMENs” between phrases. (more…)

The Popdose Interview: Ian McLagan

Ian McLaganIan McLagan is one of rock’s most revered performers. He was a member of the Small Faces, as well as the Faces, and has played with a who’s who of rock and roll, including Rod Stewart, the Rolling Stones, Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, and many, many others. His unique keyboard stylings can be heard on hundreds of recordings, including such classics as Stewart’s “Maggie May” and the Stones’ “Miss You.” He currently resides in Austin, TX, where he performs weekly with his band, the Bump Band. His latest album, Never Say Never, is available on 00:02:59 Records.

You’ve been living in Austin since 1994. What brought you there in the first place?

It was actually an earthquake. The earthquake in L.A. on January 17 felt brutal, and I’d been promising my wife that I’d consider leaving L.A., but was getting so much work there. After the earthquake I just said, ‘let’s get out.’ We did a little research. It didn’t take long. There’s really only one music city in America. I mean, Seattle’s cool and everything, but it’s got English weather, and New York is fine, but it gets a brutal winter. It was just checks and balances. It’s obviously Austin, and we moved here a few months later, in May of that year, almost 15 years ago.

At some point you put together the Bump Band. When was that?

I’ve had a Bump Band since ‘79. Obviously the L.A. versions were different. I toured Japan with Ronnie Lane in 1990, and we rehearsed here in Austin, at what was then the ARC (Austin Rehearsal Complex), and that was run by Don Harvey and Wayne Nagel. Don Harvey was the drummer on that tour, so he was the first person I called when I was going to move here. He found me (guitarist) “Scrappy” Jud Newcombe, and from there the three of us have been together 15 years.

And when did (former Spirit, Jo Jo Gunne) Mark Andes join?

(Laughing) It’s funny you should mention that. He joined in June, five years ago, and left two or three weeks ago.

I’m sorry to hear that.

I saw him … actually there was a party at the ARC. It was the 10-year anniversary since it closed party, and Mark came from Houston for that. So it was nice to see him. So, I mean, we’re still pals and everything. I think he’s just focusing on different stuff. He probably doesn’t want to tour anymore. (more…)

Mojo’s Cold Shot: John Cephas, 1930-2009

Last summer, I gave y’alls a Cephas & Wiggins Cold Shot that had no news peg, no current-events hook that made it relevant to that time, just a nice little cut to get you through the day and toss some props to one of my favorite traditional blues acts.

I am saddened to report that now, I’ve got that news peg: Guitarist John Cephas passed away this week. He was 78 years old.

John Cephas, in 1989

Cephas & Wiggins weren’t electric guitar heroes, they weren’t rock slaves. John Cephas played acoustic guitar in the Piedmont style, with the touch of an extraordinary folk talent and the love of a most devoted fan. Who were his biggest influences? Let him tell you in the spirited, autobiographical—at least he told me it was autobiographical in an interview I did with him once—song “I Was Determined,” from C&W’s Alligator album, Homemade. (more…)

Lost MP3 of the Week: Muddy Waters, “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had”

muddy watersBeing an obsessive music hoarder has its drawbacks. The questions of, “How often do I really listen to ______ ?” and all those albums that you really mean to get around to listening to, you’re just never really “in the right mood.” Or those albums that you think you hate then decide you like on a re-listen before you put them in the “sell to record store” or “delete” pile. Then there’s the organizing of one’s library. Any modern music aficionado is often dealing with three to four formats: digital, CDs, vinyl and/or tapes. (Yes, I really do have tapes.) Oh, and let’s not forget the financial toll for any one who still pays for any of this.

But willful music binging has its benefits, too. On a recommendation from someone on tumblr who responded to a video of Skip James that I posted, I’ve been watching the seven-part Martin Scorsese blues documentary series, Martin Scorsese Presents: The Blues: A Musical Journey. I’ve seen five of the seven films, and so far have just about broken even: two of the films I could have passed on, two of them I found captivating, and one of them fell somewhere in the middle. Unsurprisingly, I’ve been grabbing artists like Skip James, Robert Johnson and B.B. King out of my collection lately, and have a long list of artists and albums I plan to acquire. One thing on that list is the song used in the opening credits for each of the films – I hadn’t looked it up or written it down, I just reminded myself each time I watched another chapter in the series that I needed to look it up.

A few days ago I embarked on a massive digital library clean-up, requiring that I both listen to some of those things I’ve been meaning to get around to hearing, and be honest about my listening habits enough to purge the stuff I just don’t listen to. I put iTunes on shuffle, got comfortable, and began. At some point, the opening credits song from Martin Scorsese Presents: The Blues began playing. It’s Muddy Waters‘ “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had.” I have no idea where I got the mp3 from, or how long I’ve had it, but there it was. Right under my nose all along.

Muddy Waters, “You Can’t Lose What You Ain’t Never Had” (download)

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Hooks ‘N’ You: Don Dixon, “(If) I’m a Ham, Well You’re a Sausage: The Don Dixon Collection”

When you hear the name “Don Dixon,” you’re probably more likely to think of him in terms of his production career than for his accomplishments as a singer and songwriter … and for those who have thrilled to each and every album in his oeuvre, it’s starting to get really annoying. Not that there isn’t a ton of work amongst his past efforts as a professional knob-twiddler to make him legitimately legendary in his field, but there’s just so much more to the man than that. Next week, Jon Cummings and myself will be providing ample proof of that, when we perform our first collaboration and offer up The Popdose Guide to Don Dixon, but for now, I thought I’d ease you into his work by discussing the best … okay, only … single-disc anthology of Dixon’s work: the obscurely-named (If) I’m a Ham, Well You’re a Sausage: The Don Dixon Collection.

(Actually, the title makes sense … more or less … within the first 30 seconds of the album, but until then, you’re allowed to go, “What in the hell does that mean?”)

Devlins Drift

If you know Dixon’s solo work at all, then you’re probably familiar his lone semi-hit: “Praying Mantis.” (There’s a video for it somewhere, because I definitely remember seeing it on “120 Minutes” at some point or other, but apparently it’s become so obscure that it’s not even on YouTube.) The track was definitely a highlight of his Enigma-Records-era releases, but as this collection quickly demonstrates, catchy pop tunes were plentiful within the grooves of everything he released during that time period. It’s no wonder that bands like R.E.M., the Smithereens, Guadalcanal Diary, and The Connells were drawn to his production methods; Dixon himself could jingle and jangle with the best of them, having been playing along with the guys in Arrogance throughout the ’70s and early ’80s before going it solo. Indeed, a couple of the tracks which ended up on his solo records were actually Arrogance tracks … including “Praying Mantis”!

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