TERRELL'S SOUND WORLD PLAYLIST

Sunday, September 6, 2009
KSFR, Santa Fe, N.M.
10 p.m. to midnight Sundays Mountain Time
Host: Steve Terrell
Webcasting!
101.1 FM
email me during the show! terrell@ksfr.org

OPENING THEME: Let it Out (Let it All Hang Out) by The Hombres
I'm in With the Out Crowd by Sam the Sham & The Pharoahs
Wolfman Boogie Part 1 by Wolfman Jack & The Wolf Pack
Hey Grandma by Moby Grape
Granny Tops 'em at the Hop by The A-Bones
Dustbowl Flashback by Roy & The Devil's Motorcycle
Wild Wild Lover by The Monsters
Goodbye Ramona by The Neckbones
Skinny Jimmy by The Del Moroccos
Hurdy Gurdy Man by The Butthole Surfers
Woe is Me by The Cadillacs

Psycho Lover by The Things
13 Ghosts by Marshmallow Overcoat
A Thousand Shadows by The Seeds
Teeth by The Mekons
Back in Business by J.J. & The Real Jerks
Have You Ever Spent the Night in Jail? by The Standells
Precious Thing by Big Black
I Wanna Be Your Favorite Pair of Pajamas by Andre Williams & The Green Hornet
Ride the Torpedo by The Tallboys
Don't Worry 'bout That Mule by Louis Jordan


SOUL POWER SET
Soul Power by James Brown
Santa Barbara by Celia Cruz
Saturday Night Fish Fry by B.B. King
Mosadi Ku Rima by Miriam Makeba
I Don't You on My Mind by Bill Withers
Feast of the Mau Mau by Screamin' Jay Hawkins

Ifa by Tunji Oyelana & The Benders
Amos Moses by Primus
Busman's Honeymoon by Pere Ubu
Junco Partner by The Clash
September Song by Lou Reed
CLOSING THEME: Over the Rainbow by Jerry Lee Lewis

THE SANTA FE OPRY PLAYLIST

Friday, September 4, 2009
KSFR, Santa Fe, NM
Webcasting!
10 p.m. to midnight Fridays Mountain Time
Host: Steve Terrell
101.1 FM
email me during the show! terrell@ksfr.org

OPENING THEME: Buckaroo by Buck Owens & The Buckaroos
Always Late With Your Kisses by Merle Haggard
Kiss Me Quick an Go by The Maddox Brothers & Rose
I'm Your Man by The Derailers
One Bad Stud by The Blasters
Blazing Trailer of Love by Neil Mooney
A Living Hell by The Bottle Rockets
Devil's Run by Angry Johnny & The Killbillies
Rural Point of View by The Rev. Horton Heat
Bad Luck Dice by Clifford Gibson

Tex Mex Mile by The Gourds
Got U on My Mind by The Watzloves
Liquored Up by Southern Culture on the Skids
I Do Drive a Truck by Jon Wayne
Faraway Eyes by The Rolling Stones
Cook County Jail by Ethyl & The Regulars
I'm Tired of Pretending by Hank Thompson
The Sunny Side of the Moon by Johnny Dilks

Barbecue by Devil in a Woodpile
Turn it On, Turn It On, Turn It On by Tom T. Hall
Mama Bake a Pie by Drive-By Truckers
Going Up the Country by Jimbo Mathus
Good Enough for Grandad by The Squirrel Nut Zippers
Satellite Baby by Skip Stanley
Bluest Boy in Town by Yuichi & The Hilltone Boys
Gee I Really Love You by Heavy Trash
(This Ain't Just Another) Lust Affair by Mel Street

Seven Eleven Heaven by Danny Santos
Bruises for Pearls by Trailer Bride
It Wouldn't Be Hell Without You by Cornell Hurd
One Spectacular Moon by Jaime Michaels
Let Me Be The Judge by Amber Digby
Cross My Heart by Martin Zellar
CLOSING THEME: Comin' Down by The Meat Puppets

Steve Terrell is proud to report to the monthly Freeform American Roots Radio list

TERRELL'S TUNEUP:SOUL POWER

A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
September 4, 2009

In a showdown dubbed “Rumble in the Jungle,” two African American giants met in the ring in a land called Zaire in the mid-’70s. Such a momentous clash of titans needed a soundtrack. Thus was born a music festival called Zaire ’74, promoted alongside the fight in Kinshasa, the capital of Zaire (now known as the Democratic Republic of Congo).

Godfather of Soul James Brown would headline the three-day music show. Also on the bill were B.B. King, Celia Cruz with the Fania All-Stars, Bill Withers, Big Black, Miriam Makeba, TPOK Jazz, L’Orchestre Afrisa, The Spinners, The Crusaders, and Sister Sledge. (Funny, no one asked Screamin’ Jay Hawkins to sing “Feast of the Mau Mau” for the Congolese audience)

The Rumble was the subject of the 1996 documentary When We Were Kings. Jeffrey Levy-Hinte, who was an editor on that film, took leftover footage of the music festival to make a music documentary, only recently released, called Soul Power, now showing at CCA Cinematheque.

For the record, sports fans, Muhammad Ali, who makes several appearances throughout this film, won the boxing match and regained the heavyweight title, beating future electric-grill hawker George Foreman — who is never shown and is rarely mentioned in the documentary.

The fight had to be delayed for six weeks because Foreman got injured during training. But the music festival, for various reasons, including the bands’ scheduling conflicts, went on as planned.

Ali seemed to be everywhere the musicians were, at least before they took the stage. At one point, he seems jealous of all the attention the singers are getting, making it clear in the interview that he, not these musicians, is openly challenging the white power structure.

“I have to lead the way,” he says. “God has made me bigger than all entertainers in America. God has made me bigger than all entertainers in the world.”

During his time onstage, James Brown gives Ali a run for his money. Sporting a thick ’70s-style mustache, Brown lives up to the announcer’s promise that he would “make your liver quiver” and “your bladder splatter.” The man was such an influence on African musicians, and his performance in Zaire was as significant as it was sizzling.

But Mr. Dynamite isn’t the only powerhouse who took the stage in Zaire. Cruz basically steals the show with her All-Stars, which included bandleader and flute man Johnny Pacheco and Ray Barretto, who played the conga in the Congo. You know Cruz is going to be great onstage, because early in the film you see her jamming with members of her band on the jet on the way to Africa.

Withers, one of the most underrated soul stars of the early ’70s, plays acoustic guitar on a little-known tune called “Hope She’ll Be Happier.” Makeba does a song that brought her fame in this country in the ’60s, “Qongqothwane” — which “the colonists” call “the Click Song,” she says — in her native Xhosa language.

Perhaps the most touching scene is when B.B. King is coming off the stage and expressing doubts about his performance. In the movie we see a perfectly good version of “The Thrill Is Gone.” But B.B. just wasn’t sure. “I hope it didn’t sound too bad,” he says backstage. “I enjoyed parts of it.” Maybe he felt awkward being on the same bill with soul stars like Brown.

Maybe there were lingering nightmares about his tour with fellow Mississippian Sam Cooke back in the early ’60s, in which he was heckled by some of Cooke’s younger fans, who considered King’s music to be too old-fashioned and gutbucket.

One of the best musical performances is by an unnamed African group with two singers playing a slow, soulful tune on a traffic island in downtown Kinshasa. The guitarist happily picks away at a battered electric instrument. A decade later, African guitar music would find a huge audience in this country. It seems ridiculous — maybe a little, well, imperialistic — that nobody bothers to tell us who these talented folks are.

Soul Power has a few ironic moments. In some of Ali’s rants, he holds Zaire up as an example of a happy and free society. He’s talking about a land run by dictator Mobutu Sese Seko, described by The New York Times as “a corrupt and brutal strongman with a touch of theatrical flair and unusual fashion sense.”

The film is not without its flaws. About half the movie is taken up with behind-the-scenes kvetching about all the problems involved— economic, logistical, physical, political — in putting on a show this big. I’m not sure why, but this has become an obligatory part of just about every music-festival movie since Woodstock.

Maybe it’s an ego thing in which the money men and guys with the clipboards get their little moment of stardom. Or maybe the festival producers use this as a way to scold the audience, as if to say, “We worked hard to bring you this. You’d better appreciate it.”

Well, thank you very much. It indeed was a fine show, but as a music fan I’d much rather this time be filled with performances from that fine show — or at least some fun backstage shenanigans — than with a bunch of sweaty guys building a stage and a group of self-important clowns barking orders on walkie-talkies.

In a press release for the movie, Levy-Hinte said his original intention was to create a set of concert DVDs from the hours of footage from the show. I hope he follows through.

Soul Power opens Friday, Sept. 4, at CCA Cinematheque, 1050 Old Pecos Trail, 982<2011>1338. Tickets are $9, with discounts for seniors and students.

A STAR-CROSSED TOUR

James Lowe of The Electric talks in the Lance Monthly about what went wrong with the big Electric Prunes/Sky Saxon/Love tour this summer. Saxon's death was only part of it!

By the way Lance monthly is put out by Dick Stewart, whose Lance Records was responsible for lots of garage, surf, psychedelic and Chicano rock in New Mexico in the 1960s, including "I Wanna Come Back from the World of LSD" by the Fi Fi Four Plus 2. There's lots of cool stuff in the Lance Monthly.

LAST OF THE RED HOT MAMAS

The great Sophie Tucker has sparked an interesting online debate.

It started in a New York Times review by Jody Rosen of a new Sophie box set that included this bit about Tucker's Vaudeville roots:

The bumptious, oversexed woman Tucker portrays in these songs has roots in the broad caricatures of blackface minstrelsy. Tucker knew that material well: she began her career as a “coon shouter,” slathering on burnt cork to sing songs full of watermelon chomping and other racist grotesqueries. The “Origins of the Red Hot Mama” CD package includes a rare photo from about 1907 of Tucker in blackface, on one bended knee, arms outstretched — a pose not unlike the one Jolson struck when performing his blackface anthem, “My Mammy.”

This prompted Sady Doyle to write a response in Salon.com headlined "Can a feminist hero do blackface?":

At first, her bossiness and appetite may have been acceptable because they promoted a stereotype: a big, sassy, sexual black woman was easy to laugh at. As Tucker became more powerful she began to present these qualities, not as attributes of a character, but as attributes of Sophie Tucker. And that, without letting Tucker off the hook, makes her worthy of lasting consideration.

This prompted Rosen to come back in a piece in Slate that concluded

It is crudely ahistorical to condemn—or to speak of "letting off the hook"—an individual singer for performing racial burlesque in 1908. Blackface minstrelsy was the pre-eminent form of entertainment in the United States for most of the 19th-century and remained wildly popular for at least the first few decades of the 20th. ... A growing scholarly literature has shown that minstrelsy was complex—a show business institution and a socio-cultural phenomenon far bigger and more complicated than any one practitioner. Yes, blackface comedy was racist and appalling, and people should never stop saying so. It is also a key to cracking the code of American culture.

(I wrote about "coon songs" a few years ago when I stumbled across some of them on the Free Music archive. That column is HERE )

Both writers agree that Tucker was an important figure in American music. Says Doyle,

Tucker, who started performing in the 1900s and continued until her 1966 death, prefigured the shift in gender roles that marked the 20th century. ... She was big, and proud of her weight; she aged, and flaunted her aging; she was unabashedly funny, carnal, and in control. In an age of pop starlets whose sexuality is Photoshopped and endlessly audience-tested, Tucker's brashness isn't just a history lesson, but a relief.

Whatever you think, Sophie Tucker was indeed a red hot mama!