eMUSIC NOVEMBER

* Still Stuck in Your Throat by Fishbone. I've been on a real Fishbone kick for the past couple of weeks. It started when I found a used copy of their 2002 album The Psychotic Friends Nuttwerx at Natural Sound. I'd nearly forgotten about this group and I was surprised at how vital they still sounded. I saw them play the 1990 Lollapalooza in Denver and loved how they could sound like George Clinton one moment, Pantera the next, and then Frank Zappa -- all mixed in with a hopped-up ska sound. I also was impressed, back then in '93, at how they weren't aftraid to lay on the showmanship -- a quality you didn't much find with some of the other acts like Dinosaur Jr., Alice in Chains and Rage Against the Machine.

So in recent days I was lucky to get a couple of Fishbone albums from LaLa.com (the classic Truth and Soul and the relatively new Live at the Temple Bar and More. I also ripped the Fishbone CDs I already had onto my computer -- and then I stumble across this album, released just last year, on eMusic. Nearly six and a half hours of Fishbone is going through the shuffle mode of my mind. I want to say Fishbone is a major overlooked band of the '90s -- but they're still going strong and still seriously underrated -- in this century as well.


*100 Days, 100 Nights by Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings. I reviewed this one recently in Tune-up, along with the new Bettye LaVette CD and the new 3-disc Wattstax collection. You can find the whole piece HERE

In fact, I liked 100 Days so much, I downloaded Sharon & Dap-Kings' 2005 album, Naturally. And if anything, I'm liking it even more. There's a duet with Lee Fields ("Stranded in Your Love") in which Lee & Sharon become a modern Butterbeans and Susie. And there's a totally revamped "This Land is Your Land." It doesn't sound like Woody, but I bet he'd love it.

Basically, I can't get enough soul music. I'm happy there's a cool "soul revival" going on and especially happy that the focus is on the music, not some bogus nostalgic cuteness. The world needs more soul.


*The Big Eyeball in The Sky by Colonel Claypool's Bucket of Bernie Brains. This is a good-time collaboration between Les Claypool and drummer Brain of Primus , funk keyboard great Bernie Worrell and the guitar goon known as Buckethead. So while basically it's a supercharged version of Primus with Col. Claypool in command, Bernie and Buckethead put their own peculiar stamps on the music. There's lots of tasty jams and nary a dull moment. Even the 10-minute epic "Elephant Ghost" slinks along quite nicely. It sounds like the funkiest circus you've ever seen.


*Live at Joe's Place by Hound Dog Taylor. Hound Dog was the closest the blues ever came to punk rock. Well, maybe T-Model Ford, but Hound Dog was out there a ways.

This live record (a 1972 bar gig) is nice, raw and raucous. A few standards here -- "Dust My Broom," "The Sky is Crying," "Kansas City" and a good nine-minute "Freddy's Blues."

And there's one of those strange and unintentionally funny eMusic typos -- "Give Me Back My Wig" somehow becomes "Glue Back My Wig." I like that title better.



* Emotions by The Pretty Things. Talk about being a latecomer -- I didn't really really get into this 40-plus-year-old British Invasion band until Balboa Island, thier latest, released just this year.

Emotions is from that golden year of 1967, when the group plunged into psychedelia. Unfortunately in many cases they went overboard with the horns, strings, harpsichords, harps and other Sgt. Peppery affects. Still some bitchen stuff though. Love the fuzz tone on and whatever stringed instrument (I don't think it's a sitar -- sounds almost like a banjo) on "One Long Glance." I'm also loving the acoustic pyschedelic blues of "Tripping."

*The Live Ones 6 Tracks by The Standells. Eddie Munster was right. The Standells were cool guys. Only few have surpassed their level of bitchenicity. If you don't like 'em, flake off! Get yourself a crewcut, baby! This is a way too short live show by the Dirty Water boys at Michigan State University in 1966. Good clear sound quality. My only regret is that there are only six tracks.


*Mutiny/The Bad Seed by The Birthday Party. Although I've been a Nick Cave fan for years, I basically missed out on his earlier band back in the '80s. (I wasn't invited to the Birthday Party!) I really did miss out! This band has all the spooky, threatening power of the Bad Seeds, abrasive but very listenable. Lots of critics -- including me, I think -- compared Cave's current band Grinderman to The Birthday Party. For good reason.

This collection is two BP EPs starting out with Cave shouting, "Hands up! Who wants to die" in the hard crunching "Sonny's Burning." It doesn't let up from there. "Deep in the Woods is especially frightening. "Deep in the woods a funeral is swingin' ..." Yikes!

*Nuclear War by Sun Ra Akestra. I already had an MP3 of the title track and I needed seven tracks to make my monthly 90, so this worked out perfectly.

The story behind the album, as told in the Allmusic Guide is hilarious in itself:

"Originally Ra was so sure the funky dance track was a hit, he immediately took it to Columbia Records, where they immediately rejected it. Why he thought a song with the repeating chant "Nuclear War, they're talking about Nuclear War/It's a motherf***er, don't you know/if they push that button, your ass gotta go/and whatcha gonna do without your ass" would be a hit is another puzzle in the Sun Ra myth.

Beyond the title song, many tracks here -- "Celestial Love," "Blue Intensity," "The Nameless One Number Two" -- have a cool, bluesy, sleazy yet otherworldly quality with Ra's magial roller-rink organ out front. Call it crime jazz from Neptune.

UPDATED UPDATE: Soon after I posted this I discovered that Bloodshot Records is offering its Free Label Sampler 2007: Yr Welcome, World compilation for free. So I added that too. It's got a few tunes I already have on CD by the likes of Graham Parker, The Detroit Cobras and The Gore Gore Dirls, some new material by Bloodshot stalwarts like Jon Rauhouse and Deano Waco's Dollar Store, and some acts I'm not familar with like The Scotland Yard Gospel Choir and Ha Ha Tonka.

Speaking of which, the roots-rocking Ha Ha Tonka also is offering a free five-song live in-studio set called The Hear Ya Sessions on eMusic. I think these guys would have a lot to talk about with Hundred Year Flood. It's a little bit country, a little bit psychedelic. And, like I said, it's free!

TERRELL'S TUNEUP: STICK TO THE PLAN, GRAHAM

A version of this was published in The Santa Fe New Mexican
April 13, 2007

With a song called “Stick to The Plan” on his new album Don’t Tell Columbus, Graham Parker proves that mixing rock ’n’ roll and political commentary doesn’t have to result in heavy-handed screeds — and in fact can be good wicked fun.

Parker went into the amazingly strong latest stage of his 30-plus-year career when he began his association with Chicago’s Bloodshot Records in 2004. “Stick to the Plan,” while topical, is one of his strongest statements ever.

The just-under-six-minute song reminds me a lot of the cool blues-rock found on Dylan’s Modern Times. The lyrics also show the influence of prophet Bob — a little apocalyptic, a little tongue-in-cheek, outrage balanced with hipster humor. Starting out with the image of hurricanes “howling up the Florida coast,” the song, over the course of five verses, skewers the White House, the religious right, polluters, paranoia, and pigheadedness in general.

In perhaps a sly reference to the first verse of Dylan’s “Highway 61 Revisited,” Parker sings,

“Well God said to the president listen to me/I will advise you on
the way it’s gonna be/So the president got to his knees and accepted his fate/It’s a done deal now if you got some objections too late/Meanwhile in the corner there’s a drunk on a stool/Slurpin’ up ketchup and acting the fool/Pretending to fight for the truth but he ain’t getting far/Because he’s working for the same team just from the other side of the bar.”

The song bounces along, with images of persecuted scientists, philandering preachers, and Arabs being tortured — punctuated by cheery choruses in which Parker and a female chorus sing, “Good things are coming if we stick to the plan ... Keep your finger on the trigger, stick to the plan.”

After what can only be described as a murderous kazoo solo, Parker slides into the last verse,
which concludes with,

“Inside the airport every worker wears a turban/At the check point they’re stripping a suburban/couple of all their clothes and smelling their feet/But the found out the odor of stupidity isn’t too sweet.”

Parker has other politically charged tunes that you’ll never find on George Bush’s iPod.
Just last year he released a digital-only single called “2000 Funerals,” a somber tune about Americans killed in Iraq. (The number, as the press release for Don’t Tell Columbus points out, is “sadly outdated” — though if you count Iraqi casualties, it was outdated long before it was written).

And on the new album there’s “The Other Side of the Reservoir,” a slow, seething song about the destruction of a community for the sake of a water project — which might just be Parker’s equivalent of John Prine’s “Paradise”: “What were they thinking when they dug that hole/and bulldozed that town down/wall by wall,” Parker spits.

No, Columbus is not a protest album. It’s not Parker’s Living With War. It has soulful love songs like the sweet “Somebody Saved Me” and the desperate “Love or Delusion,” a smoldering, understated rocker.

There’s the scathing “England’s Latest Clown,” which concerns the well-covered travails of drug-plagued British rocker Pete Doherty (who gets out of prison “looking handsome with a ton of pride/With muscles on his muscles and Kate Moss by his side.”)

And there’s “I Discovered America” (the album’s title comes from the chorus), a harmonica-and-organ-driven folk-rocker in which Parker recounts moving to this country from England while looking back at his career.

“There was smoke up to my eyeballs/Poison burned my throat/But I said I’d keep on going when everyone said don’t/With my bony-chested T-shirt/Some stolen guitar licks/navigating by dead reckoning in 1976.”

A quick Creedence Clearwater Revival riff cleverly answers the “stolen guitar lick” line. Indeed, Parker’s pilfered from some of the best. But like Johnny Cash in “One Piece at a Time,” he’s used his stolen parts to create a unique vehicle. Let’s hope he sticks to his own weird plan and keeps it going.

Also Recommended:
* Standard Songs for Average People by John Prine & Mac Wiseman. This has been a good year for good country cover albums. There was Last of the Breed by Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard and Ray Price, as well as Southern Culture on the Skids’ Countrypolitan Favorites. And now this Marvel Team-up of one-time “New Dylan” Prine and venerated octogenarian bluegrass sensei Mac Wiseman. It almost makes me suspect that something big might be gurgling below the surface of country music, but I’ll leave that line of thought to the mystics.

While I would have preferred some new Prine songs, this is an easygoing, friendly little album, with some fine takes on some good ol’ songs.

There’s a couple of Elvis Presley’s Sun Sessions classics (“I Forgot to Remember to Forget” and “I Love You Because”); a Bob Wills obscurity (“Don’t Be Ashamed of Your Age”); a Lefty Frizzell faux-folk tune (“Saginaw, Michigan”); an Ernest Tubb tune (“Blue Eyed Elaine”); a Patti Page pop hit (“Old Cape Cod”); some hymns (“The Old Rugged Cross,” “In the Garden”); and a couple of wonderful examples of ’70s country — Tom T. Hall’s “Old Dogs, Children and Watermelon Wine” and Kris Kristofferson’s “Just The Other Side of Nowhere.”

Standard Songs won’t take a place in the upper pantheon of records by either artist. But when you hear these old guys trading verses on these songs they both obviously love, it’s hard not to love it back.

Terrell's Tuneup: My Search For Jerry J. Nixon

As published in The Santa Fe New Mexican, April 2, 2004

Every few years about this time, I toy with the idea of writing an April Fool’s column and make up a bunch of ridiculous titles for CDs to review. “Where the Rude Boys Are: A Reggae Tribute to Connie Frances”; “Ebony and Ivory: The Ray Charles/Elvis Costello Sessions”; “The Symphonic Iggy Pop”; The Essential Eddie Money (oops, that’s a real one!)

Somehow it always seemed too cute to do a whole column of that stuff.

However in late March I stumbled across a real CD, that, after a little research, I’ve come to believe is an April Fool’s Day joke at Santa Fe’s expense by an obscure Swiss record label, Voodoo Rhythm.

Gentleman of Rock ‘n’ Roll. The Q Recordings, New Mexico ‘58-‘64, released last year, is by an unknown rockabilly singer named Jerry J. Nixon with sad eyes, pale skin and greasy hair.

Nixon’s life story is told inside the package.

Indeed, it was like uncovering a secret history of this place I call my home.

Born Gerald James Hall in 1937 in Yorkshire England, the future rockabilly gentleman was involved with a botched armed robbery in Southampton. But because of his youth, he got off with a light sentence, joined the merchant marines and sailed to America, where he adopted a fake identity — Jerry J. Nixon — and stayed.

By 1956 “Nixon” ended up here in Santa Fe, where he initially worked at a cardboard box and packing company. Perhaps the oppression of this factory was what led Nixon to join the Communist Party of New Mexico.

Inspired by Elvis Presley, Nixon hooked up with a band playing at Atahualpa Bar & BBQ. The were initially called The Santa Fe Flames, but under Nixon’s sway, they became The Volcanoes.

Santa Fe businessman Leonard E. Sanchez, who managed entertainers and owned Q Studios and Quality Records, heard a Nixon and The Volcanoes gig, signed them up, made some records and toured the Southwest and even Mexico.

Like the archetypal rock manager of the day, Sanchez took songwriting credits on nearly all Nixon’s original songs.

After a few short years, however, things soured between Nixon and Sanchez, who gambled away all the band’s money betting on card games and cockfights. He also favored one of his other stars, local country singer Dick Lotner.

The bad blood came to a head in 1963 when the two got into a fight that ended with Sanchez in the hospital and the Gentleman of Rock ’n’ Roll in jail. The bio in the CD says the two never spoke again. However, according to the album notes, the song “Red Sun” was recorded at Q Studios in March 1964.

But shortly after that, Nixon left the Volcanoes and the music biz in general. After doing some work in the Texas oil fields, Nixon settled in Albuquerque by 1967, working as a driver for the Sunset Glades retirement home. He died in Albuquerque in 1999.

Damn! Had I known about him, I could have interviewed him. How come nobody ever told me about Santa Fe’s greatest rockabilly commie?

But the more I thought about it, the more I suspected there was a good reason why nobody told me about Jerry J. Nixon.

The fact that I had never heard of any of the people or the places mentioned in the Nixon story made me wonder.

Checking city directories and phone books between 1957 and 1961 I found no listings for Atahualpa Bar & BBQ, Quality Records, Q recording studio or KWXL radio. There’s no current listing for Sunset Glade retirement home in the Albuquerque directory. I couldn’t find a listing for any cardboard factory in Santa Fe During those years.. There were no residential listings for Leonard Sanchez, Dick Lotner or Jerry Nixon.

Whoever wrote the stuff on the CDs knows something about Santa Fe though. Q Studios was said to be located above a garage on Galisteo Street, while Atahualpa Bar & BBQ allegedly was off Old Taos Highway.

So where did this music come from? One online critic said there are similarities between Nixon and Die Zorros, a Swiss band led by “Beatman” the head honcho of Voodoo Rhythm.

The sad part is, I wanted the album to be real. While not exactly revelatory, this is the sound of a journeyman rockabilly cat who captures the wild spirit of that era.

The music is tough and cranking. Several cuts feature an eerie organ sound (think Joe Meeks or Del Shannon), while “Saturday Midnight Bop,” has a cool sax (credited to one Jose Martinez, if that can be believed) and Latin rhythm that could pass for proto-Los Lobos.

You could almost believe it’s a frustrated cardboard worker releasing his tensions in a cluttered little studio overlooking a garage on Galisteo Street.

Of course the real Santa Fe wasn’t devoid of real rock ’n’ roll during this area. Wouldn’t it be great if some record company recorded a compilation of real Santa Fe bands — The Defiants, The Rocking Aces, The Morfomen?

Jerry J. Nixon Lives on the Radio: Hear songs from the Gentleman and other rockabilly renegades on The Santa Fe Opry, country music as the Good Lord intended, Friday 10 p.m. to midnight and Terrell’s Sound World, freeform weirdo radio (same time Sunday.)