Does Little Feat Deserve To Be In The Rock n Roll HOF? Exhibit A

If you have ever wondered why old farts like myself are so adamant that an obscure bunch of hippies absolutely, positively MUST be included in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame or else the institution is meaningless and there is no justice in the world, well...thanks to that great Feat Fan, Earl Guthrie, the best evidence has finally surfaced that should finally lay to rest any doubt. Known to Feat fanatics as the "Long Lost Midnight Special Tapes from August 9, 1974"*, the missing footage has developed mythical status in the minds of fans, our Holy Grail in a land where Lowell, Ritchie and Paul still jam nightly.

Over the years I had begun to wonder whether the grail really exists and whether I would ever be able to drink from it. Thanks to Mr. Guthrie, this morning I awoke to YouTube streaming my subscriptions on my tv and what should I see? Sly Stone introducing Little Feat! The Long Lost Footage has become Reality! Without further adieu I give you the future members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame: Little Feat

*

Another Innocent Man About to Be Put to Death By A Texas Governor

Thirteen years ago I wrote about the case of Cameron Todd Willingham (see https://thegreatrollcall.blogspot.com/2011/06/gov-rick-perry-willingham-case-is.html) who in 2004, Texas Governor Rick Perry allowed to be executed on disproved forensics by a commission he appointed. In perhaps the most unethical, immoral and dispicible acts ever committed by a U.S. Governor, when Governor Rick Perry learned of the report about to be made public by the commission he appointed, Perry deep sixed the report, disbanded the commission and allowed Willingham to be put to death because it was an election year. When asked later how he felt about executing a possibly innocent man, the Governor infamously replied "This is a guy on his-on-in the death chamber, his last breath, he spews a profanity-laced triad[sic] against his wife. That's the person who we're talking about here. And getting all tied up in the process, here is, frankly a deflection of what people in this state and around the country need to be looking at. This was a bad man." Death by Fire | FRONTLINE The take away is in Texas it is ok to execute an innocent but "bad" man and an innocent man's use of profanity with his last breath justifies his punishment. (cue the music "and his truth is Marching on, glory, glory Hallelujah!") Now 20 years later and another clueless, mean spirited, buffoon Republican (redundant, I know) Governor of the great State of "We put children, the mentally deficient and innocents to death" Texas, Greg Abutt is about to follow in Perry's footsteps and straight to Hell.

In the heart of Texas, a man named Robert Roberson sits on death row, awaiting his execution scheduled for October 17, 2024. Convicted in 2003 for the death of his 2-year-old daughter, Nikki, Roberson's case has become a focal point of controversy and debate over the validity of "shaken baby syndrome" as a cause of death. On a cold January morning in 2002, Roberson awoke to find his daughter unresponsive. He rushed her to the emergency room, where doctors diagnosed her with brain injuries consistent with shaken baby syndrome. Despite his insistence that Nikki had fallen out of bed, Roberson was arrested and later convicted of capital murder. Over the years, scientific advancements have cast doubt on the shaken baby syndrome diagnosis. Experts now argue that Nikki's symptoms could have been caused by other medical conditions, and even the detective who initially testified against Roberson has come forward to support his release¹². Roberson's case has garnered widespread attention, with a bipartisan coalition of state legislators, medical experts, and advocates calling for clemency. They argue that the evidence used to convict him is outdated and unreliable. Despite these efforts, the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals has denied his requests for a new trial¹³. As the execution date looms, Roberson remains hopeful that Texas Governor Greg Abbott will intervene. "I would like the public to know that I'm innocent," Roberson said in a recent interview. "I'm not guilty of this"¹. The story of Robert Roberson is a poignant reminder of the complexities and potential flaws in the criminal justice system, especially when it comes to cases involving controversial medical diagnoses. His fate now rests in the hands of those who have the power to grant him a second chance at life. ¹: [NBC News](https://www.nbcnews.com/news/us-news/texas-inmate-robert-roberson-first-us-execution-case-shaken-baby-death-rcna173437) ²: [USA Today](https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2024/09/30/death-row-penalty-the-excerpt/75453434007/) ³: [Yahoo News](https://news.yahoo.com/news/texas-lawmakers-urge-mercy-autistic-205136780.html)

Harris Makes It Official: Minnesota Nice Over Hillbilly Mean

 

Tim Walz came to my attention like he did for many Minnesotans when he attempted to bring members of the high school class he taught to a George W. Bush campaign rally in 2004.  Walz and his group were initially denied entry to the rally being held at a gravel pit outside Mankato, MN.  One of Walz's students had a John Kerry sticker on his wallet which a local GOP staffer saw when the student showed identification at the gate.  

Walz, a national guardsman who had just returned from a tour of duty in Italy with no thought of entering politics at the time, was frustrated that the GOP would deem a high school student who wanted to see his president in person a threat.  After attempts at assuring the gatekeepers they posed no threat, Walz cut to the chase and asked if they wanted the headline for the rally to be that a returning veteran and high school teacher was denied entry to the President's campaign rally.  The gatekeepers eventually made the right decision but not before Walz's situation caught the attention of a public radio reporter.  It was that radio news report where I first heard the name Tim Walz.*  It was also the event that sparked Walz's interest in politics, to the chagrin of Minnesota Republicans.  Walz went on to run and win  the congressional seat in the usually red district.  The first of 6 congressional and 2 gubernatorial elections he won.  

The former NRA member and avid hunter is a  responsible gun owner who recognizes reasonable, common sense gun laws can protect the public without sacrificing the Second Amendment.  A nuance the NRA and GOP refuse to even consider, at the cost of countless lives.  While Governor Walz has his critics in the anti-vax, anti-mask and anti-nuance crowd, I truly appreciated his intelligent, science based approach to issues even if in retrospect they were not perfect.  I honestly believe that is all one can and should expect from one's public officials.

Walz's ability to work in a bipartisan manner is well documented and appreciated in these polarized times as is his ability to stand in another's shoes.  Unlike his opponent for Vice President, Walz is authentic and never would sacrifice his integrity merely to attain political office.  A very refreshing quality in these dark times.

*https://www.mprnews.org/story/2022/10/27/minn-gov-hopefuls-jensen-walz-take-smalltown-roots-into-bigtime-showdown

                                    Just a regular Joe who knows how to throw a baseball.

The Night I Partied with The Muddy Waters Band AKA The Legendary Blues Band

February 25, 1981, a night I remember well!   It was my sophomore year at the University of Minnesota and one of the all time great blues bands was playing one of our favorite live music haunts, the Union Bar.  Before the night was over I had met and hung out with the band after the show, talked Pinetop into giving me his autograph, shared a smoke with the band's youngster (Willie) and caused my roommate to crash his car into the building site for the HHH Metrodome.  But I am getting ahead of myself.

The Legendary Blues Band was formerly known as the Muddy Waters Band until they quit in 1980 when Muddy refused their request for a raise.  The name came from Muddy himself, who would introduce his band as the "Legendary Blues Band".  After the split, the guitarists, Bob Margolin and Luther "Guitar Jr," Johnson each went their own way and formed their own bands.  This left the rhythm section of Pinetop Perkins on piano, Willie "Big Eyes" Smith on drums and Calvin "Fuzz" Jones on bass to form  the nucleus of the new entity, the Legendary Blues Band.  They recruited Louis Myers on guitar and harmonica and hit the road in early 1981.  Later that year they were joined by fellow ex-Muddy Waters Band member Jerry Portnoy on harmonica with whom they cut their first album "Life of Ease" co-produced by Roomful of Blues founder Duke Robillard.

I was familiar with the Luther Johnson version of the band  that recorded the incredible Jacks and Kings Sessions with the Nighthawks that garnered a Grammy nomination.  If you have never heard the Nighthawks Jacks and Kings featuring Luther "Guitar Jr." Johnson, Pinetop Perkins, Bob Margolin Dave Maxwell, the Rhythm King Horns and the Phantom Horns, do yourself a favor and grab volumes I and II if you can find them.  Simply some of the best contemporary blues performances you will ever hear.

During the band's first break I  cornered Pinetop and gushed my praise of the Jacks and Kings sessions as I pulled out a pen and asked him to autograph the flip side of the bar's music calendar.  As I was wearing my Nighthawks t-shirt I asked him to make it out to a Nighthawks fan.

At first I mistook Pinetop's hesitation for politeness as he would set the pen down and listen to me then I would hand him the pen back and he would just stare at the paper,  After about ten minutes Pinetop, bless his soul, had almost scrawled his name when Calvin or Louis grabbed me and took me aside asking "What in the hell are you doing?  He doesn't read or write very well!"  To say I felt like a complete idiot would be an understatement and why it is even more amazing that these incredibly gracious giants of blues music asked me to hang out after the show for drinks.  My roommate and I returned the courtesy by offering them to partake in a smoke and they chuckled and pointed to Willie saying "we'll leave that to you youngsters".  We went outside by their van and after trying some of ours, Willie pulled out a cigar from his private reserve.

As we drove back to our dorm we were giddy and laughing like hell about how we got out partied by guys three and four times our age.  As we were heading east on Fourth Street as it curves around the construction site for the future HHH Metrodome, I was goofing around knocking shoulders with my roommate who was driving.  Unfortunately the second time I leaned left to knock shoulders we were going a little fast for the curve in the road and I fell over between the driver and steering wheel causing the car to go out of control skidding along the large retaining wall just before the exit to Hiawatha Avenue ending up with the car wedged between the wall and the base for an electric pole.  We couldn't move an inch forward or backward.  

My roommate had worked all through high school at his hometown Dodge dealer to buy that car, which was his pride and joy and wasn't even one year old.  By now I was feeling the effects from partying all night and was not much use as my buddy was trying to figure out how in the hell we could extricate his car.  To get me out of his way he sent me on a snipe hunt to find a board at the construction site that we could use as a base for his jack with the idea maybe we could jack the car up and push it sideways since we couldn't go forward or backward.  

The timing couldn't have been more perfect as just as I disappeared into the construction site a Minneapolis Police squad pulled up and asked my roommate if he needed any assistance which my roommate politely declined.  But before the officer could get back in his squad to leave I emerge from the darkness of the construction site carrying a purloined two by four, staggering and shouting "Look what I found!"  Just then the police radio crackled to life assigning our officer to another call.  We jacked the car up and pushed it sideways and freed the car leaving barely a scratch.

All those guys are gone now, with the final 2, Pinetop and the "youngster" Willie both passing in 2011 but I will always remember the kindness shown me by the Legendary Blues Band.

The St. Peter Ambassadors' Put On A Respectable BluesFest But Leave Room For Improvement

My son, who lives in Le Suer, MN invited me down to St Peter for an early Father's Day present of two of my favorite things, live Blues music and good beer. Thanks to Curt Obeda and the Butanes and my good foresight to bring my own beer (Bald Man Brewery's Tupelo Honey), I can proclaim my experience a qualified success.  

The St. Peter Ambassadors are to be commended for doing many things right.  First of all the venue, Minnesota Square Park in "downtown" St. Peter is simply gorgeous.  The park boasts an almost brand new band shell, sidewalks and one of the lushiest lawns I have ever set foot on.  There were three or four food trucks offering typical music fest fare (Mexican, bar-b-que, chicken wings, etc.) at relatively reasonable prices.  There were numerous vendor booths doing a brisk business in local made arts and crafts.  The relatively limited selection of beers (mainly local  Schell's products) was more than offset by the price, $5, which is downright cheap (even cheaper if you brought your own, like me).  To top it off, the Ambassadors' BluesFest was a free event, which is quite amazing when you consider the quality of some of the acts, be they regional, like the Butanes, or national, like Destini Rawls Soul Review.

Come to think of it, yesterday was  a great reminder to all of  those who live in the rural America, Fox News grievance and manufactured outrage bubble, of the fine job the Biden Administration has done reigning in post-covid, inflationary price increases  from where they were a year ago with its economic tightrope walking that would make even the Great Wallendas envious (i.e. not only keeping the economy out of recession, but actual economic growth, while we continue to experience record low unemployment).  But I digress...

So where did the Ambassadors' BluesFest fall short? Promotion is one area where they could have done a better job.  I was heartbroken when, after arriving just in time for the start of the Butanes wonderful set, that one of my all time favorite soul artists, the great Johnny Rawls made an unannounced cameo appearance during his daughter Destini's set.  Had I known this I would have skipped mowing my lawn and beat it down to St. Peter in time to catch this legendary performer.  

I had not seen the Butanes in probably 20 years and I must say they never sounded better.  I can remember a young Butanes breaking into the West Bank circuit, a rather daunting task given the dominance of stalwarts like Willie & the Bees and Lamont Cranston.  What really won me over to the band were their performances at the Blues Saloon in Frogtown.  Impeccable taste in material and sticklers for getting the tone right, they seemed a natural fit for when the Blues Saloon booker/empresario, Micki Mulvihill, would book a blues legend and needed a back-up band.  As any musician who ever backed Chuck Berry knows, it can be a thankless task.  But Curt Obeda and the Butanes would take the time to get it right.  The Butanes will always have my admiration and respect for the work they did with Little Johnny Taylor late in his career, at a time when just about everyone, including himself , had given up on the man.  The Butanes further burnished their reputation with their work with  New Orleans legend Earl King.

The second area where I thought the BluesFest promotors could use a little improvement,  and I know these things are a matter of personal taste, was in their selection of a headliner.  I just wasn't that impressed with   Mark Joseph & the American Soul featuring the Northside Horns.  Maybe it was the somewhat pretentious name, perhaps it was resorting to the old send the horn section out into the audience in a northern attempt at a second line stroll trick just three songs into their set (something usually reserved by most bands to near the end of a performance) and definitely the fake banter from Joseph directed at his "lost" or "on strike" horn section was simply silly and insipid.  Furthermore a second line beat seemed to be over the heads of the rhythm section.  

Not to be mean, but Joseph and his band of over wrought performers had all the subtlety of a flying hammer.  While the band was capable and well rehearsed and certainly had a group of enthusiastic friends and relatives eating up their brand of middle of the road, blues/rock,  it was just too slick and commercial.  Most importantly, the tone was all wrong for my tastes.  For those of us in the audience not raised on KQ92 or 93X, the lack of dynamics, interesting material or a drummer whose only move seemed to be "more cowbell", (i.e. rimshot every other beat), it was intolerably painful.  So much so, my son and I left after about four songs, opting to grab a sandwich at Patrick's on Third where we were delighted by a set by the Mark Cameron Band.  After the aural assault we were just subjected to at the park, I found Cameron's band to be a breath of fresh air. Tone, dynamics, interesting material, Cameron's band were everything Mark Joseph & company were not.  I plan on catching this band again.  These are harsh words but I hope it may give some constructive pause to the exaggerated exuberance I witnessed yesterday.  

 

W. C. Clark: November 16, 1939 - March 2, 2024

 The world learned of the passing of W.C. Clark on March 2, 2024 from Austin music historian and critic Michael Corcoran.  To learn about the man, his music and the profound impact he had on the Austin, TX music scene, please read Corcoran's article "W.C. Clark the gentleman godfather of Austin Blues 1939-2024" on his excellent substack site "Overserved" .

The reason I say that is because you are not going to get that information from me, a music fan living 1,171 miles away at the Northern end of I35.  I barely knew Wesley Curley Clark, we only met on three occasions.  But his music has brought me tremendous joy and I just had to share one of his seemingly small acts of kindness that meant the world to me.

I first met W.C. at a club in Austin called the Top of the Mark.  I was on a Gonzo intermodal (air and car) trip to see my friends in Roomful of Blues play the House of Blues in New Orleans and two days later the Top of the Mark in Austin.  I call it a Gonzo trip because for a period of time in the late 1990's to early 2000's I was going through a tough divorce and my running mate was a fellow divorcee, a very large, professional chef, Jonesy.  Much like the protagonists in HST's "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas", except the 300 pound Samoan was a chef and Hunter was the attorney.  

The flight to New Orleans had a 4 hour layover in Dallas.  Normally such a layover would be a dealbreaker.  However, this was cool because, through the band, I had met their friend Stew and he had offered to meet us at a bar to kill some time.  Unfortunately for us, Roomful had just played Billy Bob's in Dallas the night before and Stewie had been in attendance and overserved.  After touching down at Love Field in Dallas that morning, Jonesy and I grabbed our one carry-on piece of luggage each and took off on foot, leaving the airport for a nearby McDonald's.  

It took several calls before Stew eventually answered his phone.  He asked our location so he could figure out a nearby bar to meet.When I tell him our location, Stew makes an audible moan which I initially mistook as more of his hangover talking.  Stewie finally exclaims "man, that's a rough part of town, I don't know of any bars around there, at least that I have been to".  I tell him hold on and I walk outside the McDonalds and down the street until I see a bar and give ol' Stew the name and address.  Jonesy and I proceed to enter an extremely seedy establishment, the name of which is lost to posterity and several rounds.  Big mistake.  

To call this a working man's bar would be a misnomer because no one in the bar looked like they were currently employed based on the time of day, before noon and their level of intoxication, drunk.  Furthermore, Jones and I were the only honkies in the room with the exception of a friendly but somewhat well-worn middle aged woman who introduced herself as "Miss Wanda" and the sketchy looking bartender.  

Before long Jonesy and I are buying rounds for Miss Wanda and anyone nearby.  About every half hour I am calling Stewie wondering when he was going to join us.  The question out of  about every patron's mouth was what we were doing in a place like that.  I am sure to them we looked like undercover Dallas Vice cops.  When I mentioned we were killing time on a layover on a music trip to New Orleans, Miss Wanda perked up.  "Music...I love music, I use to live in Austin."  As kind of a test and just out of curiosity I ask Wanda "Did you ever see W.C. Clark?"  Wanda, replies something to the effect, "That old man, of course, he is such a fixture it would be hard to not have seen him".  Having not seen W.C. in person up to this point I said we must be thinking of different people because I have several of his records and he has the voice of a song bird.  No "old man" could possibly hit some of the notes he hits..."  We go back and forth, the argument becoming somewhat heated.  In a desperate attempt to change the subject, the sketchy looking bartender reaches under the counter and pulls up a plate of  warm tuna fish sandwiches, cut in half and complete with flies (not a typo, the insect).  To shut us up the bartender says "Since you two are so sure of yourselves, why don't you bet?"  To which I reply, "But we'll never see each other again." Whereupon Miss Wanda grabs a scrap of paper and writes down her address and hands it to me saying "if he is over 60 years old you owe me $10 and if he is under 60 I owe you."  

It was at this point the bartender said"when did you boys say your flight was?"   I look at the clock and let out a high pitched "EECK!"  We got less than 30 minutes to make our plane.  Jonesy and I go into full panic mode running around wringing our hands while the bartender and Miss Wanda keep level headed and call us a cab which arrives in under 5 minutes.  They tell the cabbie our situation and he tells us "...you'll never make it if I take you to the terminal".  In a scene that could only have happened pre-911, the cabbie takes us to a gate at Love Field which must have been for those with private planes.  The cabbie knew the person working security at the gate and we opened our carry ons for a quick peek and were waived through and directed to a plane on the tarmac with a set of stairs on wheels next to it like in the olden days. 

The flight to New Orleans, although somewhat of a blur to us, I am sure is remembered by our fellow passengers.  My friend Jones, who considered himself quite the lady's man, was carrying on a loud, risque' conversation with the octogenarian woman sitting next to him.  In an attempt to distract my friend, I took the opportunity to loudly announce to everyone that the 15-1 Minnesota Vikings were going to avenge their 4 Super Bowl defeats after they crush the Atlanta Falcons in the NFC Championship game on Sunday.

The show at the House of Blues went off famously.  After the gig some wealthy fans of the band sent private coaches to take the band and their entourage, including us, to their mansion on a golf course for an after hours party, featuring Louisiana cuisine made from scratch , that lasted until dawn.  I had spent a lot of my time at the show and after hours party talking to a charming and knowledgeable silver haired gentleman who was introduced to me as the "Governor".  It was only until the next day when we ran into the band after only a few hours sleep that I mentioned what to me was the coolest part about the night before, that I had met and talked with the Governor of Louisiana.  This brought a chorus of hilarious laughter from the band.  "What's so funny?"  I sheepishly ask.   The "Governor" I had been talking to was not, in fact, a politician, but rather the esteemed WOZ radio dj and host of the show "The Governor's Mansion".  

Jones and I were so hungover trying to explore New Orleans that late Sunday morning we rented a horse drawn carriage.  When the driver learned Jones was a chef he talked us into being dropped off at an expensive Italian restaurant for which I suspect he got a commission for.  Following our meal we proceeded to Patrick O'Brien's Bar, famous as the Home of the Hurricane cocktail, where we watched our beloved Vikings lose when our kicker, Anderson, who had a perfect season up to that point, making every field goal and extra point, misses a chip shot resulting in a Falcons victory.  So much for my in flight football proclamations.

Fast forward two evenings later, Jones and I had rented a car in New Orleans late Monday morning and made the eight hour trip to Austin in record time. The band had left New Orleans the night before and in light of our condition the last time they saw us, were quite sure there was no way in hell we would be making the show that night in Austin.  So when Jonesy and I entered the Top of the Mark a few songs into Roomful's first set, the band members mouths dropped to the floor and I swear they missed a beat.  When the set ended we joined them in what I recall was the basement or storage room that doubled as the bands green room at the Top of the Mark.  In addition to my friend and I, the band had two other guests. Fran Christina, the original drummer in Roomful of Blues before joining the Thunderbirds and the other guest was none other than one Wesley Curley Clark.

After recovering from the serendipity of it all, I think I told W.C. all about my encounter with Miss Wanda in the seedy bar in Dallas and even produced the scrap of paper with her address on it as proof.  As I recall, we even joked about how funny it would be to have W.C. collect the bet in person for me next time he was in Dallas.  I remember standing next to W.C.  during the second set and when the band started into the song W.C. wrote and suggested they cover, "Standing at the Crossroads" he looked at me and said "I wrote that " to which I replied "I know".

Several years later a new blues club, the Narrows, opened in the Minneapolis suburb of Wayzata.  As part of the grand opening month they book none other than the Godfather of Austin Blues, W.C.Clark.  I was so excited I fired up my 1973 Buick Riviera Boattail and headed for Wayzata.  But before going to the show, I stopped in at the best steak restaurant in Wayzata which coincidentally is where my friend  was still the head chef.  Unable to get off work, I wound up going to the show by myself, which is actually my preferred way to see live music.  I was early enough to get a table not far from the stage and before long W.C. comes out to start his first set.  Although a little disappointed he didn’t have his band with him, given the size of the club and it just having opened, I understood the cost would have been prohibitive.  

At the end of his first set and before he could get off the stage, W.C. was met by a staff member of one our local public radio stations, who, microphone in hand, began interviewing him.  During the interview W.C. kept looking over in my direction until, after about the third time, he held up his hand in front of the reporter's microphone as if to say "one moment please", climbed off the stage and came directly over to my table.  With a quizzical look on his face he says "It's Jim, isn't it?"  Before I can respond verbally, my body language gives him his answer and his quizzical look is replaced by a broad grin.  After exchanging routine pleasantries (e.g.  "How have you been?"  "Thank you for coming" etc.) for the life of me I cannot recall any more of our conversation.

My head was swimming in a sea of thoughts ranging from immense pride to insecure doubt.  I didn't know whether to take pride in the fact Mr. Clark remembered me and that he cut-off the interview to come say hello or to question what I did to be so memorable to the likes of one of my heroes.  What is important to me and what I will always cherish, is how that small act of remembrance made me feel.  

Now fast forward to the summer of 2022.  The nation is starting to come out of the covid lockdown.  I had been worrying if I would ever get another chance to see many of my favorite acts again.  When I see the line-up for the Antone's 47th Anniversary Party included some of my old friends in Roomful of Blues and W.C. Clark there was no question I was going.  

It was so good to see W. C. again.  In his early 80’s, W.C.  had aged noticeably since we last met.   Alas, there was no remembrance from him this time or at least that he would acknowledge.    I even asked if he would take a picture with someone who came all he way from Minneapolis to see him, hoping it may spark something, but no.  

But you know what?  I was more than okay with that.  In fact, it gave me an inkling of the feeling W.C. must have felt when he made my day by simply remembering me.  And how cool is that! 

These are some of the pictures and videos I shot at the Antone's 47th Anniversary Party.

Calling All Soul and Blues Fans: Be On the Lookout For Billy Price's "Person of Interest"

Billy Price's remarkable new album "Person of Interest" on Little Village Foundation Records is the kind of well-crafted, gem of a record that only someone with Price's vast experience and connections in the music industry could make. The veteran blue-eyed soul singer-songwriter first came to national prominence in the mid 1970's as the singer in legendary guitarist Roy Buchanan's band.  Price appeared on two of Buchanan's albums, "That' What I'm Here For" and the wonderful live set "Livestock".  Price's RnB vocals perfectly complimented Buchanan's incendiary guitar work.  

 After parting ways with Buchanan, Price returned to Pittsburgh fronting his own bands, Billy Price and the Keystone Rhythm Band and later the Bill Price Band.  For over thirty years Price and his bands of top-notch musicians earned a reputation up and down the East coast as one of the best soul and blues outfits.   

Much like his good friends, the Nighthawks, Price and his bandmates were musician's musicians producing some of the best albums, bar none, but for lesser-known independent labels.  Consequently, they never received the wide spread recognition their immense talents deserved.  That is until now.

 For "Person of Interest" Price surrounded himself with the crem de la crem of music industry

professionals.  The material is top notch and all original.  This is one sweet sounding record.  Huge props go out to producer/drummer/songwriter Tony Braunagel.  Braunagel, perhaps best known as leader/drummer of the Phantom Blues Band, but is also a grammy winning producer separate and apart from his famed association with the great Taj Mahal.  Braunagel not only produces and plays drums but collaborated on the writing as well.  I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge one of the big reasons this record sounds so great and that is the multi-faceted job done by fellow Phantom Blues Band member and guitarist, the great Johnny Lee Schell.  Mr. Schell was a jack of all trades, engineering, recording and mixing this record. Johnny Lee somehow also found the time to add his potent guitar work.  Normally you would think that spreading one's talent so thin would diminish the end result.  Not in this case though.  

 

Whatever Billy is doing he should bottle it and sell it as an elixir because he sounds the best he has in several years. His voice and performances are strong and confident, yet relaxed.  And who wouldn't sound great fronting this band.  The incredible line-up reads like a musician's musicians Hall of Fame:  Jim Pugh on keyboards, no less than 3, count 'em 3 legendary bassists:  Larry Fulcher, Reggie McBride and Hutch Hutchinson; producer Tony Braunagel on drums, the dream horn section of Eric Spaulding, Mark Pender and Ron Dziubla, Tower of Power percussionist Lenny Castro and three great journeymen guitarists in Shane Theriot, Josh Sklair and the afore mentioned Johnny Lee Schell.   As every sports fan knows, having the best talent doesn't always guarantee a championship team but in this case, the results exceed one's expectations.  

 On "Person of Interest" the music literally jumps off the record and grabs you!  From the funky drum beats and crisp horns on the lp's opener, "Inside That Box" to the closing strains of the slow burner "Damage Control", there is not a clinker in the bunch.  The material is so good you could swear you have heard every track before.  Never stale, just great.  Careful attention was paid to the order of the tracks, which flow so seamlessly, the record flies by.  A sign of a truly great album.  This is a return to the kind of records you want to play through, from beginning to end.  The timing of this record's release should fit perfectly with the resurging interest in vinyl records and I for one cannot wait to get my hands on a vinyl version.  

 As I write this, I am giddy, tapping my foot and grinning from ear to ear as I listen to "She Checks All the Boxes".  This track is so so sweet it sounds like it could have come off of an Eddie Floyd Stax masterpiece.  Yet it's all original.  "She Checks All the Boxes" along with "Damage Control" is one of two tracks written by Price, long time co-writing partner and keyboardist Jim Britton and producer Braunagel.  While Price and Britton get the majority of the writing credits, there are several other noteworthy songwriting collaborations on "Person of Interest".  

Price collaborates with his old friend, French guitar great Fred Chapellier and producer Braunagel on the album's second track "Song I Never Heard Before".  Price and Chapellier did an album and DVD project together back in 2009.    

The album then downshifts to a ballad,  "Mercy", and the album quiets down to just Pugh's piano and beautiful guitar before it explodes with horns and Hammond B3.  Eric Spaulding's perfect sax solo also takes the song out.  It is at this point you start to realize that this is one special record.  "Mercy" was an unfinished track from his last recording session with his old group, the Keystone Rhythym Band, that Price had completely forgetten about.  It wasn't until a fan gave him a recording of a live version of it they had began working into their live shows around that time that Price realized this one was too good to get away.

Perhaps the most intriguing collaboration on "Person of Interest" is the one with Nashville songwriting legends Jon Tiven and Sally Young.  Now when I think of Billy Price, country music doesn’t really come to mind.  But just like Austin, Nashville is not a one genre music town anymore and good songwriting is good songwriting.  Price collaborates with Tevin & Young on two songs, "They Knew" and "A Certain Something".   Both are strong contributions to the album.  The Latin tinged and aptly named "A Certain Something” is the change-up pitch, that certain something, the album needed.  

 

Now to the elephant in the room.   I had assumed that the Price/Britton track "Change My Mind" was written as a nod to his most popular and recognizable work, the cover of Tyron Davis’s "Can I Change My Mind" that Price sang on Roy Buchanan's Livestock album. In fact, Price and Britton did not start out intending "Change My Mind" to be some calculated tribute to Roy.  Quite the contrary,  Price told me through his publicist that "After we recorded 'Change My Mind', I noted that it reminded me of some of the songs I had done with Roy Buchanan, especially 'Please Don't Turn Me Away'  from the 'That's What I am Here For' album." It was then, only after the song had been recorded that Price"...suggested to Tony Braunagel that we could get some hotshot guitar player who was a Buchanan fan to do a Buchanan style solo on the song..."

 

Okay, now that I got that straight, the next question is who do you get?  The dyed in the wool Buchanan fans are not going to like whoever you choose and what guitarist is going to want to try and fill those shoes?  When I posed this question to Price's publicist, the ever helpful Kevin Johnson of Proud Poppa Promotions & Publicity, Price credited producer Braunagel with suggesting Joe Bonamassa stating "...Tony is a friend of Joe's and has played with him." adding "Of course it was a perfect choice and Bonamassa is indeed a big Buchanan fan."

I too think Price and Braunagel came up with the perfect solution in choosing Joe Bonamassa.  As someone who grew up in the DC MD VA area, the home to so many great guitarists, including Buchanan and Gatton, we are extremely spoiled when it comes to guitarists and fiercely loyal to our local heroes. While I can be unfairly dismissive of the younger generation of guitar players, I have always respected Bonamassa’s humility, how he acknowledged his mentors and encouraged his audience to explore the history of the music and artists. Bonamassa rises to the challenge and perfectly captures Buchanan's trademark tone, sustained note holding followed by blistering fast riffs.  Yet where some guitarists would be tempted to show off and try to out Buchanan Buchanan, Joe shows his maturity and good taste delivering a restrained but passionate performance fitting for a homage.

"Change of Mind" is followed perfectly by the two Tevin & Young collaborations. "They Know" is a great song with a haunting melody punctuated by punching horn riffs accented by great stinging guitar and organ notes.  It has that classic Memphis soul sound  of Stax or Willie Mitchell's Royal Studio.  Even too much of a good thing can get monotanous though so they brilliantly follow up with "A Certain Something", a song completely different.  "A Certain Something" serves two purposes.  It shows just what a consummate artist Price is, that he can master any style and secondly, it refreshes you for what is yet to come.

The album closes out with four, that's right, 4 strong songs back to back.  "The Gift" displays just how good the song writing team of Price and Britton have become.  Jim Pugh's tasteful organ carries right into the next song, the album's highlight "Crying at the Stoplight".  If this doesn't get Price radio play and his first hit record, there is no justice.  You cannot help but move when listening to "Crying at the Stoplight" with it's rolling beat.  

Just when you think this can't get any better, Price and Britton dig deep into their confectionary bag and pull out something so sweet you become borderline diabetic.  "I Lose It" is an adult contemporary piece of ear candy that reminds me of Allen Toussaint's "When the Party's Over".  What I mean by that is, it is the kind of song that no matter what kind of day your having, it transforms you and your troubles float away to that peaceful place, leaving you totally relaxed and with a smile on your face.

The album closes with "Damage Control". Another Britton and Price number that is so strong I'm surprised it wasn't picked as the title track.  On second thought, it is wise they didn't use it for the name of the record.  Although it is a completely different song, it shares the name with the title track of Curtis Salgado's great album a few years back.  Price and Salgado are such great singers, people and friends, there is plenty of room for each of them.  Like so many of the songs on this album, it is such a perfectly crafted song it will have you scratching your head wondering "Where have I heard this one before?".

But what is most striking and why I am gushing over this record , besides that it is all original material, are the horns.  Horn lovers pay attention, this is how horns were meant to be used.  

Not seeing a credit for who arranged the horns I again reached out to Del Ray "Oh you don't have to call me" Johnson who was kind enough to pester his client one last time for me. Price responded with the following:  

 

"The horn arrangements are largely by Jim Britton, my keyboard player, and they stuck pretty close to the demos that Jim and I made to give to the players on the album. I’m sure there were some tweaks here and there but for the most part the horn players played from charts that Jim and the guys in my horn section in Pittsburgh sent for them to read. Some of the horn parts may also have been arranged by those guys, Joe Herndon and Eric Spaulding."

On "Person of Interest" the three man horn section consists of Mark Pender on trumpet and saxophonists Ron Dziubla and Eric Spaulding.

 Mark Pender may be the most recognizable name of the three, owing to his work on the Conan O'Brien show, but I have been an admirer of Pender dating back to the late 1970's when he played in the Jukes and Miami Horns. 

 But the saxophone work on this record are what steal the show.  Braunagel had the clout to land stellar saxophonist Ron Dziubla for the project and oh what a difference one man can make.  Rounding out the horn section, last but certainly not least, is Pittsburgh's Eric Spaulding.  Spaulding, was the resident saxophonist at Kid Anderson's Greaseland Studios for 6 years playing on countless recordings.  If you like Eric's sax work check out his solo project where he is backed by the Greaseland Allstars and Junior Watson.

Okay, okay...I'll stop but not before I say I am not related to anyone associated with the record nor being paid for my opinion.  It simply is what it is:  the masterpiece we always knew Price had in him.  And I for one, couldn't feel more blessed.  William, thank you for making me feel like I am hearing music for the first time.  (Eat your heart out Jon Landau!)  Strong review to follow. 😀

 

All kidding aside, Billy Price's new album "Person of Interest" on Little Village Foundation Records is a fantastic record that should be in every music lover's collection. 

 If you are unfamiliar with Price's catalog, I strongly encourage you to discover some of the finest blues and soul performances you ever heard.  Even more astonishing is that they made those great sounding records on an independent label budget.  The very essence of a labor of love.  Check out his store at:

https://billy-price.square.site/

NRBQ Returns to the Twin Cities

 NRBQ, which stands for the new rhythm and blues quartet, and I go back over 40 years. I had first heard of the band while living outside of Washington DC where there is a very hip music scene and I remember reading in the Unicorn Times stellar reviews of the band’s performances.

In 1979 I moved back to Minnesota to attend the university, and in the fall of my sophomore year NRBQ was scheduled to play the Whole Coffee House. As the name implies, this was a non-alcohol venue in the basement of the Coffman student union building and that as much as I wanted to see the show, my roommate, on my advice,  was going to take a young woman to the show for their first date and I didn’t wanna be a third wheel.  Later that night my roommate returned to our dorm room raving about the band and how they had the audience eating out of the palms of their hands.  Perhaps the coolest thing about that show, was, to the best of my knowledge, the last time NRBQ used the magic box at a show in the Twin Cities, although I could be wrong on this point.  That would’ve been in the fall of 1980.  

The 1980s and 90’s  turned out to be a very busy time for NRBQ in the Twin Cities.  It seemed over the course of the next 20 years NRBQ played at least twice a year in the Twin Cities, including, it seemed, every free music festival from barbecue contests to the Taste of Minnesota, to Grand Old Days to the grand opening of the Saint Paul Mississippi Riverfront redevelopment, Bandanna Square on St. Patrick’s Day, as well as numerous club dates most often at First Avenue but also at the Cabooze bar and Famous Dave’s as well. Minneapolis music critic, Tom Surowicz famously named his music column after one of the band’s albums, “Grooves in Orbit”.   For a while it seemed as though the Twin Cities had adopted the Louisville band as its own.

While every NRBQ show is a unique and special event, a few of the shows in the twin cities during this time stand out.

To be an NRBQ fan is to come to know the band intimately, including the quirky personalities, mood swings, idiosyncrasies and strained relationships that you get anytime you throw four talented and artistic individuals together.  Ladle on heaps of praise and predictions that they are on the verge of being the next big thing in rock music, and you’re bound to have some volatile reactions by the band to all the stress. One show in particular that sticks in my mind was a show at First Avenue in the late 80s or early 90s where the band was in one of their particularly facetious moods.  From the opening song to the last encore, Big Al and to a lesser extent, Terry and the rest of the band would break into an acappella ode to their “home town”, Minneapolis.  

In this made up tune, “Minneapolis, my hometown” the band referred to Minneapolis as their hometown and how good it was to be back in their hometown and every chance they got between songs, and sometimes in the middle of songs, they would break out into an a cappella made up song “Minneapolis, my hometown delivered in the most insipid and annoying, facetious manner. It was the equivalent of their flipping off the entire town.  The only problem was this was long before the town had done anything (e.g. George Floyd murder) to deserve such treatment.  I have long wondered what specific act of passive aggressive “Minnesota Nice” set off the lads from Louisville / Woodstock, NY transplants. 

As Perhaps the most surreal NRBQ show I witnessed in the Twin Cities was the show in the parking lot of Dixies restaurant during the 1990 Grand Old Days street festival.  Less than a mile as the crow flies, Minnesota’s then Governor, Rudy Perpich, was hosting Mikail Gorbachov at the Governor’s mansion.  Gorbachov had  just announced glasnost and his loosening of control over the citizens of the Soviet Union who were experiencing their first, nascent tastes of freedom. 

As military and state patrol helicopters flew security overhead, NRBQ was tearing the heads off the crowd down below on Grand Avenue in St. Paul with an absolutely scintillating performance. I will never forget Big Al’s version of George Jones‘ “White Lightning’” early in the set, replete with hearty belches at the end of every verse in the chorus.

As I recall, other highlights from that show were rousing versions of the band’s classic “It Comes to Me Naturally” which it seems every bar band in America was covering at the time and the crowd favorites “It was an Accident” and “Riding in My Car”. Most memorable was the festive mood and good will everyone had for the leader of the Soviet Union and the prospect for world peace. Somewhere I have a “Gorbachov for President” button I purchased that day.

NRBQ returns to Minneapolis this Sunday, December 3rd at an intriguing venue, the Parkway Theater. When I learned that the band would be augmented by their horn section, the Whole Wheat Horns I immediately thought of my old friend and trombonist Carl Querfurth who is a frequent member of said horn section.  I did get a hold of Carl but alas he only plays the band’s Northeast shows.

The day before the concert I was hospialized with an abcessed tooth that made my face swell up so bad I had to call an Uber at 4 a.m. to take me to the Emergency Room.  I shot the above video of NRBQ performing "Get a Grip"  the next day but wasn't up for doing a review of the show due to my health.