One Track Mind: Robert Cray "Midnight Stroll" (1990)

by Pico

It's shocking that we've gone over a year here with hardly a mention of Robert Cray. And yet we call ourselves a blues blog. It's time to rectify that.

Robert Cray is kind of like the George Benson of the blues. He owns an outstanding voice for R&B and, as Nick pointed out last year, can make the blues appealing to even the mainstream crowd, much as Benson was once able to get the masses to listen to something resembling jazz. But the most important attribute like GB is, if all else fails, he can always fall back on some of the tastiest, sophisticated guitar playing of his genre in this age.

When Cray hit the big time with that monster lp Strong Persuader back in 1986, he got the attention of a lot of folks, but the quality of his output that immediately followed didn't wilt under the spotlight. As a matter of fact, I enjoy Midnight Stroll from two releases later every bit as much as Persuader.

Midnight sports an impressive cache of well written and well played songs, varying from the rolling bass line of the tough "The Forecast (Calls For Pain)"--which became a moderate hit--to the sassy soul of "Consequences" to the staggered rhythm of "Holdin' Court." Having Al Green's Memphis Horns providing some Stax moods on most of the tracks makes it all the mo' better. And while I can listen to this CD all the way through without skipping any songs, it's that last track I eagerly anticipate.

The song of the same name as the album, "Midnight Stroll" is blues strut the underscores the confidence of the narrator about "all the love we're gonna make" tonight as he arrives in his "long black Caddy." Jimmy Pugh's greasy organ provides a solid slab of soul upon which Cray emotes and howls over.

And when it's cuttin' time, Cray delivers. That urgent guitar solo is a sublime mashup of two of his biggest influences: Albert Collins and Hubert Sumlin. It's a stew of styles that you won't hear from any other guitarist and what makes Cray not just a good imitator of some other well known guitarist; Robert is reverent to the old masters but he's wholly his own man.

Right before the song fades out, Cray can be heard cooing "I've got the top down/I've got Howlin' Wolf on the radio." For a bluesman, that means life is good. Where Robert Cray is concerned, it's all good.


Listen: Robert Cray "Midnight Stroll"

Purchase: Robert Cray - Midnight Stroll



"One Track Mind" is a more-or-less weekly drool over a single song selected on a whim and a short thesis on why you should be drooling over it, too.

Graham Parker, "Burning Questions" (1992)

NICK DERISO: Graham Parker -- the forefather of new wave Angry Young Men like Elvis Costello and Joe Jackson -- always had a fervent, if small following. That's the way it is with individualists, not to mention sharply critical ones.

In fact, Mercury originally pressed just 8,000 copies of Parker's first best album, 1976's "Howlin' Wind." Yet that thrilling blending of rock, ballads and reggae-influenced tracks would, nevertheless, be named one of the 100 best LPs of the last 20 years by Rolling Stone at the close of the 1980s.

Then came "The Mona Lisa's Sister" in 1988, one of his next best albums. Despite similarly limited distribution, and inaudible advance buzz, Parker somehow hit the Top 100 on the Billboard charts.

Arista Records head Clive Davis told Parker once: "The public is passively resisting you." I'm not sure it wasn't the record labels themselves -- a lot that so rarely seems to understand personal, much less angry, records -- but that's a blog for a different day.

With "Burning Questions," an album of uncommon intelligence and featuring a naked lady on the front, Parker squared off once again. He beseeches, he rails; he's not afraid to yell. And yeah, he pleasantly recalls that early period with his old band the Rumour, right down to the CD title -- similar to Parker's early signature tune "Don't Ask Me Questions," which hit the top 40 in his native UK.

He'd put out 15 records at this point, and I'm happy to report that Parker never lost that flat-footed stance -- or, for that matter, his burning questions.

Parker doesn't stir in any horn-inflected soul (something that helped move what few records he once sold), instead staying with a sound more in keeping with the tough, post-punk stuff Parker began doing with the now-legendary "Squeezing Out Sparks." (That 1979 release, along with "Howlin' Wind" later made Rolling Stone's 2003 list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.)

Stripped down and muscular, Parker was again angry if no longer such a young man. Time hadn't dulled his wit, or his inquisitiveness. And sales be damned.

Think of it, and not for the first time, as Parker's way of saying that he'll make thoughtful records, but his way. Even if, again, few people -- beyond me and the guys at Rolling Stone, I suppose -- are listening.

Purchase: Graham Parker - Burning Questions

John Scofield Trio - This Meets That (2007)

by Pico

John Scofield hates to sit still. He rarely goes more than two or three years playing a certain variety of jazz before he abruptly switches gears. His restlessness is part of the reason why he is one of the most highly respected six-string wielding jazz musicians of this generation. But with a recording career touching on such a wide range of styles over three decades, it's inevitable that at some point that Scofield will revisit some stops he's made along the way. This Meets That, coming out September 18 on the resurrected Emarcy label, can be seen as a look back. And in more ways than one.

The first hint that Sco' is in a reflective mood is from looking at the band's lineup. Drummer Bill Stewart and bass player Steve Swallow had both backed up Scofield on 1994's collaboration with Pat Metheny I Can See Your House From Here, 1996's low-key Quiet, and 2004's live En Route. The association with Steve Swallow goes back even further, as we've explained previously. Scofield considers the rhythm section of "The John Scofield Trio" to be his "A Team," which is heady praise coming from someone who's invariably had rhythm sections featuring the likes of Charlie Haden, Jack deJohnette, Marc Johnson and Omar Hakim.

The second--and most important--evidence of the nostalgia is the music itself; it's a hard swinging type of small combo jazz supplemented by a four part horn section. This unique variety of chamber jazz was almost a trademark of Scofield's records from the early-to-mid nineties. But this is the first time he's added the horns to his electric trio (Scofield played acoustic guitar on Quiet). So, followers of that period will be greeted with a very familiar, if not quite identical, sound.

It doesn't seem that way in the opening seconds, however; "The Low Road" starts out just like "Polo Towers" from his acid-jazz record Uberjam with some feedback and a C sharp based dark chord he built the song around. But this time, the song goes down a different path with Stewart's hopping drumwork and the horns accentuating in all the right spots. The leader wastes no time in ripping loose a familiar sizzler of a solo that puts all the right notes in all the right places.

"Down D" has a slightly twisted, lonely Americana feel to it, which is another way of saying it sounds a lot like Bill Frisell. Frisell, incidentally, appears later with tremolo guitar in hand on a cover of "House of The Rising Sun." (Note: Bill Frisell's latest record released just last month is a collaboration with Matt Chamberlain called Floratone, and has an overall feel that's very similar to This Meets That; if you like one, you're bound to like the other.)

"Strangeness In The Night" is where Scofield's experimental melding of chamber jam and post-bop is most successful. It's a tale of two sections; the horn-rich first section struts in a idiosyncratic way, then barely more than a minute into the track, the band breaks into an "Impressions" blues-jazz jam and the horns follow along. The first section returns a couple more times as intermissions between the extended improvisional sections. It's like adding a regal accent to the jams.

"Heck Of A Job" has a Big Easy beat, which paired with the horn section, sounds like a leftover from 1995's creole-flavored Groove Elation.

The next track marks the beginning of the covers, the third indicator that Scofeld is in a wistful mood. And of all the covers, this one is the most effective. Sco' gives this Charlie Rich classic an affecting treatment, carefully plucking and bending his strings to squeeze the right amount of emotion out of the tune.

The aforementioned "House Of The Rising Son" follows with a completely different arrangement than the original. A much faster tempo provides the platform for the leader to trade some spirited fours with Frisell. "Satisfaction" is also covered later in the album, and both of these familiar oldies were chosen because they were among the very first songs Scofield learned to play on guitar.

"Shoe Dog" is a tune of the country-folk variety that features a precise, characteristic high register bass solo by Swallow. Stewart later adds his own solo, a slow, lazy but real funky one.

"Memorette" is a 6/4-timed, gently urbane piece that provides a chance for Scofield to swing softly but convincingly. "Trio Blues" as just what the title says it is: a blues jam performed by trio (plus horns, of course). Stewart provides some short and sweet fills.

"Pretty Out" sounded familiar to me when I first heard it, and that's because this free-jazz exercise first appeared on Grace Under Pressure from 1992. It's a great tune with a nicely written theme, but in this shorter version, the horns really don't fit in and there's barely time to stretch out. But a welcome change of pace follows with a lively rendering of "Satisfaction."

Recent releases by John Scofield seem to fall into either the "jam band" Sco' or the "arty" Sco'. By now you know this CD falls squarely into the latter category. But anyone who appreciates both the artistry and technique of the man should embrace this record, regardless of what genre you can assign to it. As with a much of his work, good luck trying to neatly pigeonhole it. And that's the beauty of This Meets That: it's dictated more by moods and format, not categories. The commitment to quality makes it all work well.

Purchase: John Scofield Trio - This Meets That

Obscuro: John Scofield - Shinola (1981)

by Pico

Later this month, elite jazz guitarist John Scofield will be releasing a new CD, This Meets That, which includes Scofield's long time friend and sometimes bass player Steve Swallow. I'll be covering that CD real soon, but listening to this fresh new offering from Scofield harks back to his days before his stint with Miles helped to make him a household name within the realm of modern jazz axe players. More to the point, that little-known release from a late 1981 show, called Shinola.

By the early eighties, John Scofield already had some distinctions to brag about: a Berklee School of Music grad who had worked as a sideman to luminaries like Charles Mingus and Billy Cobham. He launched his solo career around 1977 and started out playing electric bop with a moderate rock edge. Back then, he's recorded a number of albums under small labels like Enja, with the majority of them taped live in clubs. All of these records are consistently good but not quite outstanding; Scofield's advanced technique is already there, but he hadn't yet achieved the wide range in his playing and much depth in his songwriting that would both become routine in his recordings from the middle eighties on.

However, right toward the end of his formative first era before hooking up with Davis in 1982, Scofield, Swallow and drummer Adam Nussbaum played for a small crowd in Munich, West Germany, where everything seemed to be coming together for him. The six tracks contained in Shinola were actually only part of the club date; the slightly lesser companion album Out Like A Light contains the rest of the gig.

This trio's lineup had by then been playing together for nearly a couple of years and it shows on this record. The chemistry throughout reveals itself in all the varying moods presented here, from the pastel "Yawn" to the frenetic "Dr. Jackle". Scofield and Swallow in particular seem to read each other's minds like an open book.

Since this record works so well largely because of Swallow, it's probably a good time to explain what he brings to the table. Steve Swallow has been on the scene as a bass player since joining Paul Bley's group in 1960. He's since played for a ridiculously long list of greats, beginning with Stan Getz, Chick Corea, Pat Metheny and Gary Burton. For the last thirty years, his most consistent and closest association has been with creative jazz composer, arranger and pianist Carla Bley (Paul's ex). Swallow has distinguished himself as a composer as well and as a leader with some albums under his own name.

But the distinction of Swallow is truly his bass; around 1970 he dumped his acoustic stand-up for an electric and never looked back. In doing so, though, he never dropped his be-bop tendencies. He plays typically at the high end of the register and plays very much in tune with the harmony. This could be construed as saying he plays like Paul McCartney, but he doesn't sound like Macca aat all; his style is more like a plugged-in Scott LaFaro.

Swallow tends to play a different melodic line than the leader, but somehow makes it fits within the overall song. The wandering "Jean The Bean"is a perfect example of the bass player doing his own thing while listening carefully to what Scofield is playing at the same time. It's chemistry that only comes from playing together for a while.

The only cover of this set, Jackie McLean's "Dr. Jackle" finds Sco cutting loose playing some demonic bop lines while Swallow walks his bass up and down with precision. Nussbaum gets an opportunity to solo, too, and he takes good advantage of it.

It's right at the end where Scofield uncorks a curveball to the audience: the brief, all-out rocker of the title song that puts the "power" in power trio and reveals that underneath all the straight bop that Scofield has carefully woodshedded for, he's still a rock 'n' roll guy at heart.

Shinola used to be a nearly impossible CD to find; the one I managed to score at a Berkeley record store about ten years ago has liner notes that are useless unless you can read Japanese. Even today it's still only sporadically available compared to Scofield's much better known recent records. But if you've mined Scofield's repertoire of the last twenty years and are ready to dive into his work as a burgeoning, twentysomething talent, Shinola is the one to go for first. It wouldn't be a bad idea to go exploring some of Swallow's own works as well.

Purchase: John Scofield - Shinola

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P.S.--Speaking of "burgeoning," that first customer review of the CD in Amazon from December of 2000 is mine. Honest!

One Track Mind: Aaron Neville - "Louisiana 1927" (1991)

By Pico

Randy Newman, a good ol' boy from New Orleans, La., has been thought of as a national treasure by many, and for good reason. From "My Old Kentucky Home" to "I Love L.A.," Newman's deft mixture of Broadway show-tunes and modern pop makes him the closest thing to a modern-day Cole Porter of the late twentieth century. The carefully constructed melodies and the lush arrangements that sometimes accompany sometimes belie some mordant lyrics that don't sugar coat at all when Randy is feeling, well, randy.

Followers of Top 40 back in 1977 remember how stinging Newman's lyrics can be when his fluke hit "Short People" caused such an uproar as people missed the point of the song being a sarcastic denunciation of bigotry.

About three years earlier, Newman was at perhaps his most savage best with the Southern-themed Good Old Boys. In the middle of that classic collection is a song about the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927, which devastated much of the middle-to-lower Mississippi River region, with levee breaks overwhelming towns and destroying crops.

Newman's account of that event and how it affected the Bayou State sounds straightforward, but given his penchant for aiming at contemporary targets, you have to wonder if he was really just giving us a history lesson or was there a larger message contained. The refrain provides a hint of the latter, whereby the state was and will always be treated as a stepchild of the Federal Government:

Louisiana, Louisiana
They're tryin' to wash us away
They're tryin' to wash us away

Regardless, it's a beautiful tune even if it's a rewrite of "Sail Away," and the lyrics pair with a downcast, rich melody make this a great tune that provides ample demonstration to most of Newman's strengths. Imagine how much better this song is then someone who can really sing is covering it.

Enter Aaron Neville.

In 1991, bolstered by the strength of the Neville Brothers' Yellow Moon and also the success of his duets with Linda Ronstadt, Neville put out a solo record Warm Your Heart. It's a good but not great album; however it kicks off marvelously with "Louisiana, 1927." Being from New Orleans itself and having some savvy in picking tunes to cover, this choice makes a lot of sense.

The string-heavy arrangements of the original are here, and a swelling chorus is added for further weight. As for Neville's lead vocal, it needs no comment except to state that it's his usual outstanding fare; they don't call him "The Voice" for nothing.

I listened to this and all the other songs from Warm Your Heart back when it was new, then put it away for about fifteen years until Hurricane Katrina struck the middle Gulf Coast. The tragedy called to mind this song about levees breaking and how it seemed like someone or something was trying again to wash away Louisiana. The relevant poignancy of this tragic event turned the song into something even more for me and couldn't get it out of my mind for many days after.

Eventually, I did move on to other songs and other worries. But every August 29 (like last Wednesday), thoughts turn again to this song. And Aaron Neville's golden throat delivering the goods.

Listen: Aaron Neville - "Louisiana 1927"

Purchase: Aaron Neville - Warm Your Heart


"One Track Mind" is a more-or-less weekly drool over a single song selected on a whim and a short thesis on why you should be drooling over it, too.