Category: Rockabilly/Swing


Watch how things take shape as Sassparilla’s The Darndest Thing. “New Love” walks in as a pulled back neo-swing blues carrying with it echoes of Tom Waits and Squirrel Nut Zippers (in a quieter moment). “Same Old Blues” picks up with an almost Dixieland trombone as the eclectic instrumentation circles around the blues, bluegrass, and swing. Accordion and harmonica create the lazy river feel for “Bone Colored Moon,” as if the sunnier side of a Greg Brown song painted over with some Mississippi Delta jazz hints.

“Overcoat” and its slide guitar brings back some more Tom Waits dark corners played through that Greg Brown folk and a sultry Norah Jones jazz. Banjo leads into “Confession” as the swing feel of the earlier tracks recedes into the background and lets an Appalachian blues rise up from the foggy hollers. “Fumes” works right into a finger-picking folk that starts heading out of town on the train, slowly swaying side-to-side into the pitch black Texas night.

Then you arrive at “My First Lover.” It’s a frank, adult-language kind of reminiscence of the speaker’s first girlfriend—seemingly an older, more experience woman who led him down the wrong? path. Perhaps it’s a good memory, but the language makes it seem like just rebellion and far from love as if boredom just led to experimentation. The song goes back to that time with energy and rock ‘n’ roll, but with an air of melancholy hanging over the whole thing.

“My First Lover” could easily be edited like Mumford & Sons’ “Little Lion Man” so that it could get airplay, capitalizing on the track’s blend of rock and everything from earlier in the album: blues, folk, and bluegrass. The haunting harmonica drenches the song with suffocating kudzu as the lyric says,

Lock up all your windows
Shutter all your doors
Burn bright that porch light
Because my lover’s in your town
Yes, she’s in your town
Devil’s in your town.

The album closes with “You’ve Got It Bad,” almost a return to the swing of the early tracks, which makes it an odd choice to end the album. All the other tracks seemed to point towards the combination of rock and warning on “My First Lover.”

Meanwhile, as I contemplate The Darndest Thing, I return to track 3, “Bone Colored Moon,” as the lyric delves into the spiritual and foreboding. Picturing what it might mean to get left behind by Jesus and those headed for eternal life, the song begins: “She said, ‘Where were you when the saints left town?’/ ‘I was standing on the corner with my hanging down/’neath that bone colored moon, child of God passing time/The devil don’t want much, but he surely wants he’s owed.’” There’s hunger to be a rescued child of God, lifted out of the devil’s schemes to bring us down. Follow that up with a Gospel tune, and you’ve got quite the liturgical folk punch.

Sassparilla
Fluff and Gravy Records

Three-Chord Lectionary is a series of posts that connect songs with readings from Scripture, seeing how music can send us to the music of the Bible.

That night all the people of the community raised their voices and wept aloud. All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, “If only we had died in Egypt! Or in this desert! Why is the LORD bringing us to this land only to let us fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be taken as plunder. Wouldn’t it be better for us to go back to Egypt?” And they said to each other, “We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt.” (Numbers 14)

The Hebrews lost hope as they viewed the land of Canaan, the Promised Land. They lost hope, fearing that the Canaanites were too strong to be overpowered. They lost hope, and they longed to be back in Egypt—forgetting that Egypt meant slavery, forced labor, cruel work conditions, second- or third- or worse-class citizenry.

So Moses and Aaron, the leaders of the Hebrews, prayed to the Lord and then they pleaded with the people. . .in song:

Ain’t it sad, when they take your home
When your crops go bad, well, you lose your soul
And you could lose your mind, lose control
But you ain’t going back to that old dust bowl
Yes, you could lose your mind, you could lose control
But you ain’t going back to that old dust bowl
.

Or that’s what Moses and Aaron might have sung if the Dustbowl Revival had been their poets and backup band. It’s a perfect way of saying that there’s no reason to think that going back would be good. Moses and Aaron fell down in grieving before the whole assembly, and then Joshua and Caleb spoke up:

“The land we passed through and explored is exceedingly good. 8 If the LORD is pleased with us, he will lead us into that land, a land flowing with milk and honey, and will give it to us. Only do not rebel against the LORD. And do not be afraid of the people of the land, because we will swallow them up. Their protection is gone, but the LORD is with us. Do not be afraid of them.”

In other words, “you ain’t going back to that old dust bowl.”

The Dustbowl Revival throw up a combination of bluegrass, ragtime, swing, and jazz reminiscent of Squirrel Nut Zippers with plenty of Appalachia thrown in the corners. It may not have much Hebrew influence, but the opening song’s chorus, “That Old Dust Bowl” from 2011’s Holy Ghost Station, works well on the lips of Moses, Aaron, Joshua, and Caleb as they plead with the people not to return to that dust bowl of Egypt, not to return to the slavery.

How often we long to go back to what we know—even if it is far from being a golden age. We long to go back to our own Egypts rather than face the unknown, rather than face the challenges before us presently, rather than trusting God in the face of some new predicament. Instead, listen to the words of Joshua and Caleb: “The Lord is with us. Do not be afraid of them”—whoever “them” is in your life. Do not be afraid, because the Lord is with you. You ain’t going back to that old dust bowl.

The Dustbowl Revival

Dustbowl RevivalZach Lupetin and the Dustbowl Revival are best when they’re really pushing along the tempo like the train-burner “National Geographic.” Overall, on their album, You Can’t Go Back to the Garden of Eden, it’s a bluegrass swing like the Blue Ridge miners from the 1920’s heading into town for dancing and drinking.

“Marching On” jumps out—a New Orleans jazz swing with that indie/live recording vibe of the Squirrel Nut Zippers. “9 Lives” is horn-laded with close vocal harmonies and a sweetly laid-back tempo like 60’s bubblegum pop with just enough bluesy swing. Mandolin, horns, and handclaps build the bluegrass swing of “Dan’s Jam.” The slower tempo of “River Blues” does sing true with its country blues and the sloppy, dirty swing of “Garden of Eden” digs deep (“You can’t go back to the Garden of Eden/That’s one thing, fo’ sho’”).

The Dustbowl Revival

As supergroups go, the Traveling Wilburys had their moment of greatness especially in how they dug back for the old sounds that came out of Victrolas, “singing into a can,” humming radio tubes, and the days when folk and blues melded into country and rock.

The Spanic Boys are not a supergroup, but they dig back into that same musical history book—acing the test while adding their own creativity in the essay portion. The father (Tom) and son (Ian) guitarists achieve such intense crunch that you feel at once as if you’re in the early rebellion of rock ‘n’ roll and also in the blistering heart of throwdown Americana AltCountry. Ah, the radio signals are all in line for perfect reception.

On Sunshine released earlier this year, “Secret” wails on a driving lurch, and “I Hear You Talking” spins on a cruising two-step. Brad Elvis (The Handcuffs, the Romantics) on drums crashes into the smashed up blues of “Sunshine” with its psychedelic, Byrds-styled guitar bridge.

The roadhouse rockabilly of “Bigger Fool Than Me” bumps along with these excellent little instrumental tag choruses. Then there’s the tilt-a-whirl, demolition derby of “I Didn’t Love You Anyway.” The ballad-kicked-up-a-notch of “When the Night Has Come” emerges from the same place as the Smithereens while also importing a little Tex Mex border hint of lime.

Thanks to Spanic Boys and Cinaps Records for the review CD.

Lee Rocker
This place sucks! It’s not about the music. That’s all I could think about as I arrived at Oneida Bingo and Casino Lounge to see Lee Rocker play on the first night of a three night stay. The Casino Lounge is located on the main floor with all of the lights flashing, bells ringing, and slot-slanted eyes wearily wandering from spinning wheel to coin cup to cigarette stub. The stage is separated from the crowd by a moat bar. Each seat at the bar has an in-bar slot machine, so the good seats for watching the show were at first all occupied by gamblers with their beer chasers lined up. The rest of the bar seating areas are then separated by an aisleway behind the bar stools. Add in the fact that there are three large pillars making obstructed view seating the norm, and Oneida Casino definitely sucks for music.

However, things improved when two gamblers went to seek their fortunes elsewhere, leaving open barstools for my friend and me. Once Lee Rocker started slapping his upright bass, the negatives of the surroundings were swept away by the rockabilly that eventually meant most of the Lounge crowd was there for the music. The tour bus couple who had been sitting there with their cheap food were soon nowhere to be seen. The in-bar slots got to take a break, because most people were simply tapping their hands to the music and not to make the video screen numbers spin. It’s a testimony to Lee Rocker and the band that they pulled together a potentially uninterested crowd, the music drawing in those who wanted to rock out on the band’s rhythms.

The set kicked off with the title track of the previous album, Bulletproof, the flames on that rockabilly sound immediately beginning to flare. This was followed by “Race Track Blues” from the new album, Racin’ the Devil, which featured a fingered solo from Buzz Campbell.

With two songs to lay the groundwork, showing that there’s plenty more to come, Rocker launched into the next tune by saying, “This song’s been very good to me.” A bass heavy, guitar vamp styled “Rock This Town” got the crowd even more rocking, caught some people’s attention (“Oh, Rocker was in the Stray Cats”), but it also got the oldie-but-goodie out of the way to make room for us to see what else this cat’s been up to.

I often got the feeling that the sound was taking me back to some gym in the 50’s like its Back to the Future, but you can really experience it. As Rocker said after the show in an interview, he’s not trying to just treat rockabilly like “a museum piece, because they tore it up in the 50’s.” He’s OK with the rockabilly pigeon hole, because “it’s what I came from.” However, he aims to change it up which shows on the diversity of Racin’ the Devil.

“She’s Gone,” a love song to Rocker’s cherry red 1959 Ford Skyline, is like the rockabilly inspiration for a Smithereens song with Dale’s guitar solo painting the flames on the side of the car. “Blue Suede Night,” co-written with Carl Perkins, has the strut of “Stray Cat Strut” with Jimmy Sage’s drums jamming it up with a rumble.

Speaking of “Stray Cat Strut,” the band’s version showed how that song was always more about Rocker’s bass line than other Stray Cat hits. Throughout the night, besides Rocker’s lead vocal, you could hear how the bass leads so much of the sound—as it should with the band being built around Rocker’s King double bass. Plus, even when Rocker spins that bass, picks it up to play it like a guitar, or stand on it while still playing, that flashy flair never trumps his tremendous pluck-slap style.

The rockabilly where he came from on “Rock This Town” was followed by the country talkin’ blues of “Runnin’ from the Hounds.” While Brophy Dale does a slide guitar thing, the vocal sound is reminiscent of Bob Dylan’s talking style and the country talking blues on Hayes Carll. The song hitting the Americana charts recently, “Lost on the Highway,” is a country-influenced rock ballad with some hints of John Hiatt.

The night closed with “That’s Alright Mama,” the band kicking out the song like the Elvis I want to remember, and then blending right into the Jimmy Reed/Smokey and the Bandit song, “Eastbound and Down.” As the song says, “I’m loaded up and truckin’,” and that night with Lee Rocker and the boys, I was loaded up on rockabilly, trucking to the rhythm that we all could use.

Thank you to Lee Rocker and band and Alligator Records for the review copy and help with this article.

Astralwerks Beat: The 101ers

A Monthly Check-in on Sounds Coming From Music Spectrum Supporter, Astralwerks

Elgin Avenue Breakdown Revisited
I suppose grudgingly I’d admit it was fortunate that my mom didn’t dress me in black leather, torn jeans, safety pin piercings, and a Mohawk when I was three as the Sex Pistols began to break open what would be the Punk scene. However, that also means that by the time I knew enough about what was going on Sid and Nancy were dead, Johnny Rotten was looking for PiL, and London Calling had been mellowed a bit for “Rock the Casbah.” Punk was becoming something else, the New Wave which seemed less connected to the past musically than what Punk had meant originally.

So now as a child born to late for the Punk explosion, let alone seeing how rock ‘n’ roll was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off in 1976, now it’s time for Elgin Avenue Breakdown Revisited, a reissue of the 101ers album along with extra rare tracks, alternate takes, and live cuts. The 101ers were Joe Strummer’s band before he left to help form the Clash. In Strummer’s voice, guitar, writing, eclecticism, and passion, you can hear every bit of what would lead to “Clampdown,” “Train in vain,” and “London Burning.”

Elgin Avenue is therefore a history lesson, because the 101ers are not punk. They are a rockers rockabilly band, the mid-70’s chapter of the oft-repeated rockabilly groove-bounce. It started way back with the old bluesmen who didn’t just play their acoustic guitars quietly into the night. Then came Sun Records and Elvis, Johnny Cash, and Jerry Lee Lewis. Watch Walk the Line, and you can see all of punk rock’s predecessors jump, jive, and boogie in their edgy performances. Then came the Beatles who found their sound in the old rockabilly covers they banged out at the beginning. Finally, Strummer and the 101ers write their own rockabilly chapter with music which feels as if it could explode anytime.

“Keys to Your Heart” is pitch perfect 50’s rock beat with enough of Strummer’s muddy snarl vocal to be something too dangerous for the Leave It to Beaver era. Two version of “Keys” are included with version 2 being a faster re-recording for the BBC and stronger for its tighter feel. As the first tune Strummer ever wrote, it shows that Strummer was extremely gifted from the git-go.

“Letsgetabitarockin” has the speed of punk, the slur of words over the frantic sock hop beat. “Rabies (From the Dogs of Love)” has a fat guitar plunking out a pop rock progression seen just a couple of years later on the Cars’ debut album. Chuck Berry’s “Maybelline” is one of many Berry covers the 101ers played live, and here they smash through the song like duck-speedwalking. Included also is Van Morrison’s “Gloria,” the band’s traditional set closer showing both how raw Them (Morrison’s band) was and how Strummer’s band was taking all of that R&B-influenced energy and just breaking on through to the other side.

Thank you to the Astralwerks for the review copy.

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