...to the Sublime

Pop Life (and Death)

I've been waffling on whether to weigh in on you-know-what, since we've just about OD'd (no pun intended) on coverage, but I'm finally giving in. Aside from news of the ongoing investigation, the only thing I really wanted to read was my former LA Times colleague Bob Hilburn's remembrance about his involvement with Michael Jackson (http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/news/la-me-jackson-hilburn27-2009jun27,0,4897003.story). Bob had told me these stories and I'm glad he put them together for the paper. (They were excerpted from his memoir, which is being published in October.)

I've been torn watching the outpouring for Jackson because, despite his acquittal in the criminal case, I don't believe his involvement with young boys was as innocent as he claimed. That trumps all else for me. Truth be told, MJ was flat-out weird. Of course, much of that weirdness comes from his family--particularly from his father, who is a flat-out idiot. And now his family, surrounded by The Glimmer Twins--Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton--is lamenting that the media is focusing too much on MJ's problems and not his musical legacy. Gee, sorry. 

On the musical side, there is no question that Jackson was a fantastic performer, but I don't think enough attention, or credit, has been given to the army of songwriters and producers who worked with him over the years, starting with The Corporation--Freddie Perren, Deke Richards and Alphonzo Mizell--the Motown staffers who were responsible for all those great Jackson 5 hits. (Berry Gordy was also listed as a member of The Corporation, but I suspect that just reflected his shrewd business acumen and not necessarily his artistic contributions.) Then there was Rod Temperton, who wrote "Rock With You," "Off the Wall" and "Thriller." And, of course, there's Quincy Jones, who produced the albums "Off the Wall," "Thriller" and "Bad." After "Bad" didn't live up to "Thriller," MJ increasingly looked to more au courant producers--including Teddy Riley, "Babyface" Edmonds and R. Kelly--but none could recapture the magic of "Off the Wall" or "Thriller." (Dr. Dre reportedly declined an offer to work on Jackson's last studio album, 2001's "Invincible.")

The bottom line is that it had been 18 years since Jackson recorded some legitimately good songs. Most of his time since then has been spent in and out of surgery wards, attorneys' offices and courtrooms. Oh, and becoming a parent. (And inspiring the Jeff Koons sculpture pictured above.)

I have to admit I'm a bit befuddled by the outpouring over Jackson's death. His death wasn't a tragedy. His entire life was. 

The Memphis-Motown Axis

Ran across this compilation at Rockaway Records (also known as my home away from home). These are vintage cover versions of Motown hits as performed by various artists from the Stax label. Motown, was of course, a hit factory, with songs being produced in assembly-line fashion in keeping with the label's home in Detroit--the Motor City. The Stax operation was much looser and funkier and it shows in these covers, which include David Porter (Isaac Hayes' writing partner) doing Stevie Wonder's "I Don't Know Why I Love You," Barbara Lewis with a sweet version of Smokey Robinson's "Oh, Be My Love," Booker T. & the MGs turning The Supremes' "I Hear a Symphony" into an instrumental, John Gary Williams (a new name to me) doing The Four Tops' "Ask the Lonely" and O.B. McClinton delivering a country(!) version of The Temptations' "I Wish It Would Rain." This collection was released last year but it doesn't seem to be on iTunes, so if you want a listen you'll have to track one down yourself, or have me over for cocktails. Yeah, baby. 

The Boyle Heights Hillbillies

Last week I wrote about Los Lobos' contribution to the Chris Gaffney tribute album, "Man of Somebody's Dreams." David Hidalgo sings the title track, which is a lovely country waltz. But, upon further listening and reflection, I don't think I adequately expressed HOW FUCKING GREAT IT IS. There--now you know. And this on the heels of "When Love Fails," a bouncy country ditty from "Unreleased Songs and Rare Recordings" by David and Louie Perez, which is available only at the fantastic latinplayboys.org website. I e-mailed Louie to compliment him on "Man of Somebody's Dreams" and suggested that he and David record an all-country album. His response: "We have for the past 36 years, except it's been the wrong country." Hee-haw.

Time Travelin'

On account of some book research, I'm on a serious New Orleans music jag so I was happy to receive the latest from the legendary Allen Toussaint. Except for one song, "The Bright Mississippi" (Nonesuch Records) is an all-instrumental exploration of traditional jazz written by greats such as Sidney Bechet, Jelly Roll Morton, Joe Oliver, Django Reinhardt and Duke Ellington. The ace band assembled by producer Joe Henry consists of Don Byron (clarinet), Nicholas Payton (trumpet), Marc Ribot (guitar), David Piltch (upright bass) and Jay Bellerose (drums and percussion). And, of course, Toussaint's magnificent piano anchors the proceedings. It's revelatory to hear Toussaint play in a style other than the rollicking R&B that defined the New Orleans sound in the late '50s and throughout much of the '60s. Plus there are guest appearances by one of my favorite pianists, Brad Mehldau, on Morton's "Winin' Boy Blues," and by tenor saxophonist Joshua Redmon on Ellington and Billy Strayhorn's "Day Dream." The surprise for me was Thelonious Monk's "Bright Mississippi," a song I wasn't familiar with and which seems to be a slight variation of "Sweet Georgia Brown." (It's also reminiscent of "Whipped Cream," which could be a clue as to where Toussaint came up with that song.) This is a beautiful recording that pays respect but also gives new life to traditional jazz.

PS--the outer sleeve of the typically elegant Nonesuch packaging features the above image, shot in New Orleans by the great jazz photographer William Claxton. It's dated 1960, but it could just as well be 1860. Astounding.   

  

More Blue Notes

Chris Gaffney was one of those musicians who should have been better known, but he seemed to be perfectly happy with who and where he was. He recorded four solo albums in the late '80s and early '90s, but they didn't rise above cult status. He resurfaced as a guitarist and accordionist in his best pal Dave Alvin's band, and then formed The Hacienda Brothers with former Paladins guitarist/singer Dave Gonzalez. The Haciendas seemed to finally provide the right vehicle to showcase Gaffney's love for both country and soul music. The band recorded three acclaimed albums, but Gaffney died from liver cancer in April, 2008, just months before the scheduled release of their third record.

Now comes this truly heartfelt tribute album that was organized by Alvin and features a veritable who's who of alt-country and Americana artists, including many of my favorites, performing songs written by Gaffney. Los Lobos weigh in with "Man of Somebody's Dreams," which features a heartbreaking, plaintive vocal from David Hidalgo. The Texas Tornadoes are represented by "The Gardens" (from their 1996 album, "4 Aces"). Alejandro Escovedo offers the Vietnam vet lament, "1968,"and fellow Hacienda hermano Gonzalez serves up "Tired Of Being Me." Then there's the fantastic songwriter Dan Penn, who produced the Haciendas' first two albums and here contributes "I'm So Proud" (not the Curtis Mayfield song of the same name). The wild card on the album is Boz Scaggs, who gives a typically soulful performance on "Midnight Dream." And it ends with Gaffney himself delivering the haunting "Guitars of My Dead Friends." 

Proceeds from the record, which was released by Yep Roc, benefit the nonprofit group Hungry For Music, as well as Gaffney's family. (Available on iTunes.)