TERRELL'S TUNE-UP: SOME CDs BY LOCAL FOLKS

As published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
Oct. 1, 2004

Here’s a round-up of some recent CDs by New Mexico artists, including a couple of famous guys with connections to Santa Fe.

Sunday Shoes by Nels Andrews. The dark, brooding songwriter archetype is a tough one to pull off. The dustbin of recording history is cluttered with third-rate Leonard Cohens, Nick Caves, Mark Eitzels, Mark Lannegans, etc.

But when it’s done right, that is when the singer sounds authentic, when his woeful tales are intriguing and when the music packs a punch, the dark, brooding songwriter is a powerful figure.

Albuquerque’s Nels Andrews pulls it off with his debut album. He’s not in the same league with Cohen, Cave, etc., at least not yet. But Sunday Shoes is a good start.

Andrews is starting to get recognized. He won the "New Folk" prize at t the 2002 Kerrville Folk Festival, an honor whose past winners include Lucinda Williams, Steve Earle and Lyle Lovett. Sunday Shoes, originally self released early this year, was picked up by a hip little Nashville label, Catamount.

He sings songs of forgotten people struggling against terrible odds winning quiet victories and humiliating defeats, of drifters roaming the backroads and back alleys of America, of ambiguous loves and doomed relationships.

The songs are full of Albuquerque references. The first track is “Central Avenue Romance.” The namesake of “Lilli Marlene” is from Martineztown

My favorite tune is “Jesse’s Mom,“ which actually is more about Jesse himself. He’s a child of illicit miscegenation, who grows up rejected in two worlds and continuously pulling up stakes, leaving those he loves to search for a place with “no more hard times,” proving that he’s possessed by the “gypsy in his blood” that his mother thought she had.

Andrews is served well by a crafty little roadhouse band called The El Paso Eyepatch, featuring ex-Hazeldine member Jeffrey Richards on guitar and banjo and Michelle Collins on harmony vocals. Another major contributor is guest mandolinist/lap steel player Jason Daniello. Brett Sparks of The Handsome Family plays accordion on “Jesse‘s Mom.”

The CD release party for Sunday Shoes is tonight at The Launchpad in Albuquerque. Guest bands include Jason and the Argonauts, Shine Cherries and The Darlington Horns. $5 cover.

*Lo Fi-Highs/Hi-Fi Lows by The Hollis Wake. I just recently figured out who this Santa Fe band reminds me of: The New Ponographers, a critic’s-darling Vancouver band that, like the Wake, plays high-charged guitar power-pop with melodic hooks that steal your heart away.

The main difference is that the New Pornographers don’t let Neko Case sing nearly enough while The genderly-intergrated Hollis Wake gives plenty of spotlight to its female singers Krysty Bosse and Sarah Meadows.

In fact the best songs on Lo-Fi Highs are from the female perspective. Take the song “This Time,” which concerns circles and cycles, if you get my drift: “It doesn’t seem the slightest bit fair/My body has to suffer this wear and tear/ especially when it’s two weeks late/ and I don’t want to procreate …”

Initially my only complaint about the album is that it uses four songs that also appear on The Hollis Wake’s first album Suburban Crime Spree. However, there’s apparently a good reason for doing so -- the new versions are better.

This especially is true for the song “Becky,” a tune about a Santa Fe barmaid who is so desperate to leave the City Different she turns to crime. The vocals on the new version is 10 times more passionate, especially on the kicker line in the chorus; “Get me out of this retarded town!”

I don’t care how much you might love Santa Fe, I think most of us have felt this sentiment before.

* After Hours by Big Al Anderson. I just found out a couple of months ago that Anderson, a 22-year member of NRBQ, is a Santa Fe resident, at least part time. (He also has a place in Nashville.)

Billing himself as “300 Pounds Of Twangin' Steel & Sex Appeal,” Anderson is a musician’s musician. His work might remind listeners of the late Charlie Rich -- especially those slow, jazzy, devastatingly lovely ballads like “Love Make a Fool of Me” and “Better Word For Love.”

And there’s a little Dan Penn -- one of Stax Records’ greatest songwriters -- in Anderson too. You hear that in tunes like “Just Another Place I Don’t Belong,” which could only be described as country soul.

Big Al plays some straight ahead country with “It’s Only Natural,” and the Hank Snow influenced “Blues About You Baby,” which was co written by Delbert McClinton.

After Hours is available only on the internet. CLICK HERE

*Down Home Chrome by Junior Brown. When I first heard that Junior was recording for Telarc, a label best .known for its blues artists, I was afraid that he might be making a sharp turn toward electric guitar blues, a style he loves at least as much as the hard-core country for which he’s known and loved.

Indeed the new album ends with a 10-minute blues workout called “Monkey Wrench Blues.” And there’s a cover of Jimi Hendrix‘s “Foxy Lady,” which I’m pretty sure I first heard the artist formerly known as Jamie Brown do in 1968 when we were both at Santa Fe Mid High and he was in a local psychedelic group called Humble Harvey.

But country fans don’t worry. Down Home Chrome is full of Brown’s trademark country cut-up songs, in which he plays the steel part of his guit-steel as much as the guit part.

But my favorite cut here “Hill Country Hot Rod Man,” in which Brown uses a horn section to create a fresh country neo-swing fusion.

ROUNDHOUSE ROUND-UP: WHERE EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

As published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
Sept. 30, 2004

You decide which is sillier:

Having an actor from a popular 1980s sitcom come talk about your candidate’s plan for alternate energy, or reacting to said celeb as if his very presence is an affront to decent people in the state?

John Kerry’s campaign in New Mexico touted a Tuesday appearance in Albuquerque by actor Ted Danson, who played the unrepentant horndog Sam Malone in the old NBC television hit Cheers. According to the press release, Danson came to discus “John Kerry's plan to make America stronger by breaking our dependence on foreign oil, and investing in new technologies and alternative fuels to create high paying jobs and protect our environment.”

Sounds like a tall order for a TV bartender.

Danson, a former Santa Fe resident, was accompanied by state Energy, Minerals and Natural Resources Secretary Joanna Prukop and state Sen. Richard Romero, D-Albuquerque, who is running for Congress against incumbent Rep. Heather Wilson, R-N.M.

According to one television report, about 100 people showed for the rally. It’s hard to say whether any votes were swayed.

I didn’t go.

I’m waiting for Norm and Cliff to come here to talk about the nation’s trade deficit.

Actually I didn’t pay the Danson visit much mind. But then I got an e-mail on behalf of a Republican legislator who took advantage of the Danson rally to engage in some good old-fashioned celebrity bashing.

“John Kerry thinks the heart and soul of our nation is represented by Hollywood liberals like Ted Danson, but President Bush knows the heart and soul of America is found in places like New Mexico,” said Rep. Brian Moore of Clayton, echoing almost word for word a stump-speech applause line used by Bush himself in various locales, including a speech in Albuquerque last month.

“New Mexicans have done well with President Bush’s tax cuts,” Moore’s statement said. “We don’t need a Hollywood actor to tell us differently.”

Conservatives in recent years seem to take great offense at entertainers getting involved in politics.

Except Arnold Schwarzenegger. Or Charlton Heston. Or Ronald Reagan.

The war on literacy: You’ll have to move quick to see this one for yourself because if the governor’s office reads this first, it’ll be gone, or at least corrected.

But as of Wednesday afternoon, a Sept. 8 press release on Gov. Bill Richardson’s official state Web site (www.governor.state.nm.us/2004/news/sept.html) announced that First Lady Barbara Richardson was declaring that day “International Literacy Day.”

“The facts speak for themselves — poor reading skills translate directly into poor student achievement, higher dropout rates, and lower financial and personal success,” Mrs. Richardson said in the statement.

That’s undoubtedly true.

But the next sentence made a surprising contradiction, quoting the first lady as saying, “Ending literacy will guarantee a more prosperous future for all New Mexicans.”

{Note: The Literacy Day press release in its original form was still on the governor's Web site at 8:30 a.m. today, but before 9:30 a.m. it was gone.}

TERRELL'S SOUND WORLD PLAY LIST

Sunday, Sept 25, 2004
KSFR, Santa Fe, N.M.
Now Webcasting:
10 p.m. to midnight Sundays MDT
Host: Steve Terrell

OPENING THEME: Let it Out (Let it All Hang Out) by The Hombres
Papa Satan Sang Louie by The Cramps
Two Headed Dog by Roky Erikson
I'm Not Down by The Clash
Victoria by The Fall
I'm in Disgrace by The Kinks
Burnin' Hell by The Fleshtones
Dirty Seconds by The Hollis Wake
Johnny Gillete by Simon Stokes

Sins of My Father by Tom Waits
God's Eternal Love by Sally Timms
Strange Fruit by The Twilight Singers
Civil Disobedience by Camper Van Beethoven

I Zimba by The Talking Heads
The Future by Prnce
Cold Bologna by The Isley Brothers
Grown So Ugly by Captain Beefheart
All Hands Against His Own by The Black Keys
Step Aside by Sleater-Kinney
Hang On Sloopy by Lolita #18

Restraining Order Blues by The Eels
Narc by Interpol
Sewers of Bagkok by Brazzaville
Hang Down Your Head by Petty Booka
Song of the Rats Leaving the Sinking Ship by American Music Club
Call on Me by Lou Reed
Venus by Shocking Blue
CLOSING THEME: Over the Rainbow by Jerry Lee Lewis

THE SANTA FE OPRY PLAY LIST

The Santa Fe Opry
Friday, September 24, 2004
KSFR, Santa Fe, NM
Now Webcasting:
10 p.m. to midnight Fridays MDT
Host: Steve Terrell

OPENING THEME: Buckaroo by Buck Owens & The Buckaroos
In the Satellite Rides a Star by The Old 97s
Worry Too Much by Buddy Miller
Tramps Rouge by Starlings TN
Drugstore Truck Driving Man by The Byrds
Sinner Man by 16 Horsepower
You Stupid Jerk by Peter Stampfel
Bears in the Woods by Nancy Apple
My Blue Heaven by (unknown home recording artist)

Lonely Street by Ray Price
Family Tree by Loretta Lynn
South Dakota Hairdo by Joe West
Guilty as Sin by Kasey Chambers
River of No Return by Jon Rauhouse with Neko Case
Putin' Out an Old Flame by Johnny Bush
He'll Have to Go by Jim Reeves
Moon River by The Bubbadinos

My Own Kind of Hat by Rosie Flores
The Day John Henry Died by Drive-By Truckers
Hill Country Hot Rod Man by Junior Brown
Something in the Water by Charlie Robison
Out of Control by Dave Alvin
F the CC by Steve Earle
I Know You Are There by The Handsome Family

Another Place I Don't Belong by Big Al Anderson
Murder's Crossed My Mind by Desdemona Finch
Charmers by Richard Buckner
Sammy's Song by David Bromberg
Sweet Savior's Arms by Grey DeLisle
Dark End of the Street by Elvis Costello
Old Friends by Roger Miller, Willie Nelson & Ray Price
CLOSING THEME: Comin' Down by The Meat Puppets

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

TERRELL'S TUNE-UP: REISSUES CALLING

As published in The New Mexican
Sept. 24, 2004

The punk era of the late 1970s was the result of a loose-knit movement in which the prevailing attitude was that there was way too much reverence toward rock stars, that music should be considered disposable, a fleeting joke, something for the moment.

Trouble is, there were some bands that included some serious musicians whose work, in spite of themselves, transcended the self-imposed limits of punk.

On a DVD interview included in the London Calling: 25th Anniversary Legacy Edition by The Clash, Joe Strummer recalls having to deal with “the punk police,” purists who insisted that punk rock had to be three-minute bursts of rage and snottiness and nothing else.

But Strummer, Mick Jones, Paul Simonon and Topper Headon disagreed. Punk was supposed to represent freedom, Strummer said. And that includes the freedom to incorporate the sounds of funk, rockabilly, dub reggae, jazz, R&B and anything else that wasn’t nailed down. If that means using a horn section on a ska version of “Staggolee” (called “Wrong ‘em Boyo” here) and if they sound a little bit like The Band on “Jimmy Jazz,” it didn’t have to distract from the punk ferocity.

One would like to think that the late Strummer is rolling over in his grave at the thought of this album being the subject of a fancy-schmancy multi-disc 25th Anniversary package (list price $29.98).

But remember, the sainted Strummer still was alive in 2002 when the song “London Calling” was used on a television commercial for Jaguar Motors. So I don’t see Joe getting too upset about this.

And not that he should be.

In addition to the original album (which was re-mastered a couple of years ago), the three-disc set includes “The Vanilla Tapes,“ which consists of a recently uncovered demo and rehearsal sessions including versions of most of the London Calling tunes.

It’s a low-to-no-fi affair. It’s got no-frills early takes on what would become signature Clash tunes (an almost tuneless version of the song “London Calling,” an embryonic instrumental “Guns of Brixton,” called simply “Paul’s Tune,” plus some previously unheard songs, like a hillbilly romp called “Lonesome Me” and a reggae-drenched cover of Bob Dylan’s “The Man in Me.”

There’s also a DVD featuring an interesting, if hardly essential, documentary about the making of London Calling, with interviews with all four Clash members, including Strummer. (The most fun part of the DVD though is the black-and-white footage of the album sessions, which are hilarious due to the crazed antics of producer Guy Stevens, a balding hippy who kept the band on edge by tossing chairs and a ladder across the studio and pouring wine on a piano while Strummer was playing it.)

But the main course still is the original album itself, which retains its joyful, dancing-on-the-trash-heap-of history power and its raw, working-class hero bite a quarter century later.

“Brand New Cadillac,” a cover of a song by obscure rockabilly Vince Taylor, makes most of the punked-up rockabilly that followed sound like Happy Days.

Though the comparison isn‘t obvious, “Train in Vain” follows in the tradition of Frank Sinatra, proving tough guys can sing love songs.

On the DVD documentary Strummer downplays the socialist politics of The Clash, making the obvious point that as musicians they didn’t really have the answers to the problems of imperialism, repression and unbridled commercialism.

But he’s selling himself short. Songs like “Clampdown,” “Spanish Bombs” and of course the title track, haven’t lost a trace of their apocalyptic relevance. “Lost in the Supermarket” remains the quintessential anthem of consumerism angst.

The Clash considered London Calling to be “the last rock ‘n’ roll album.” Well, they were wrong. But there haven’t been many albums in the last 25 years as powerful as this.

Also Recommended:
*The Name of This Band is Talking Heads. To be honest, I stopped keeping track of David Byrne’s solo albums about 10 years ago. I never did like The Tom Tom Club, Tina Weymouth’s and Chris Frantz’s side project, and the one Jerry Harrison solo record I heard was painfully boring.

The depressing post-Talking Heads work of these guys is almost enough to make you forget what a great band the Heads were. But perhaps that adds to the refreshing charm of this double-disc reissue.

For reasons best known to the brain trust at Warner Brothers, The Name of This Band, a collection of live Heads material first released in the pre-CD era of 1982, never was released on compact disc.

It took way too long, but they did it right. The new version of the album is nearly twice as long as the original, spanning the band’s early days -- recorded in front of what sounds like tiny audiences -- to the early ‘80s.

The collection is divided into two eras. Disc One features work from 1977-79, while Disc Two has songs from 1980-81.

Although the group’s signature tune is the too-delightful-to-be-creepy “Psycho Killer” (included twice here, once on each disc), the song that best sums up the spirit of the first disc is “Love àBuilding on Fire.” I try to imagine myself in the audience the first time Byrne, in his loopy-loo voice sang, “I’ve got two loves, two loves/And they go tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet tweet like little birds …” to a hopped-up folk-rock groove.

By 1980 Byrne had started hanging out with Brian Eno experimenting with funk and African music. By this point the basic Heads line-up was fortified by outside musicians like guitarist Adrian Belew and keyboardist Bernie Worrell, a Funkadelic alum, as well as background vocalistsm, an extra bassist and a percussionist.

On paper this might sound rather cluttered. But somehow it worked. This album’s version of the insane, pseudo-African workout of “I Zimba” might be the finest track ever recorded by The Talking Heads.

Stop Making Sense was a great live album. But this one’s even better. I wouldn’t mind seeing a movie version of The Name of This Band is Talking Heads.