Listened to lately - Karen Lawrence and Blue By Nature, Neil Warden, and Head Honchos

Karen Lawrence and Blue By Nature – Best Of Live

If you like Sari Schorr when she’s in R’n’B mode, then Karen Lawrence should be right up your street. Oddly, Best Of Live is actually a selection of 8 remastered tracks taken from a 1998 album titled Live At The Lake, and clocking in at a mere 34 minutes it certainly isn’t an exercise in self-indulgence.

The opening ‘It’s All About You’ is symptomatic of what’s to follow, with a chugging rhythm

carried by the bass, while two guitars play off rhythm and lead against each other, and Lawrence shows off her convincing vocal chops.  Once upon a time a backing vocalist for both Aerosmith and Jeff Beck, she may be a blues bawler, but in a singing rather than shouting vein.

Her quality is also evident on the following ‘Another Day, Another Mile’ where she brings personality to the lyrics while the band demonstrate how well honed they are, the rhythm swinging on another slice of good time boogie while the guitars trade licks.  And the same is true of the later ‘I Had It All Wrong’, a tough and funky affair powered by kickass drumming, while Lawrence brings twists and turns to her delivery, fairly spitting it out at times.

Other highlights include the soul ballad ‘Fun And Games’, a torch song with the feel of, say, ‘Dark End Of The Street’, on which Lawrence does a pretty good job of conveying heartache. And there’s ‘It’s Been So Long’, which brings more variety to proceedings as it opens up slinky but gradually builds up to a steam conclusion, in a transition well worked by all concerned.

If you fancy a bit of an R’n’B party, albeit a brief one, Karen Lawrence makes for a pretty good hostess.

Neil Warden – Canalslide Blues

For anyone whose curiosity was piqued by my glowing comments about the Neil Warden track ‘The Alchemist’, when reviewing the recent Jock’s Juke Joint Volume 4 compilation, here’s some more of Mr Warden’s work for your consideration.

This four track EP from last year, recorded at Canalside Studios in Edinburgh – the pun in the title will explain itself – again shows off Warden’s ability to paint in music, as it were, or perhaps to provide the instrumental soundtrack for an unseen movie.

Opener ‘The Road Home’ is typical of what he has to offer with the singular style of his Weissenborn lap steel guitar.  One one level it’s simple, built around a repeated theme, but the overall effect is wistful, with a touch of a Celtic feel, and evoking open spaces with a sense of stillness amid the fading light of the Scottish gloaming.  It may not sound much like
Mark Knopfler’s music for Local Hero, but the mood is similar.

‘Canalslide Blues’ itself feels like it is improvised around a central theme, falteringly going in search of an enigmatic melody that’s just out of reach, while on the closing ‘Dust Bowl’ Warden’s slide playing quivers and shivers through a repeated refrain, conjuring up images of tumbleweed blowing through the desert.

Neil Warden gets down to al fresco Weissenborn work

In between, the seven minutes of ‘Mantra’ isn’t so gripping – meandering and less melodic, with fewer points of traction for the listener.  All in all though, Canalslide Blues is another illustration of Neil Warden’s out of the ordinary talents.

Head Honchos – Bring It On Home

Hailing from Indiana, Head Honchos are headed by the father and son twin guitar attack of Rocco Calipari Sr and Rocco Calipari Jr. And when I say attack, I mean it. These guys may give the occasional nod to funk or soul, but at the end of the day they’re in the business of blues rock.

Now, I’m partial to a bit of heads down, no nonsense boogie myself, but over the thirteen tracks on Bring It On Home the Caliparis and their gang – about whom I’m afraid I have no further information – seem to be stuck in a single, high-revving gear. Okay, maybe two gears.

‘Not For Me’ kicks off the set with hammering drums, growled staccato vocals and the two guitars going at it, with a so-so wah-wah solo, and from there on they scarcely pause for breath until, rather late in the day, closing track ‘Soul Free’ provides some relief as they swing their way around an easy-going riff.  But boy, could I have done with some more variation in style before then.

There’s maybe a hint of the Allmans about the guitar riff on ‘Come Strong’, and the drums may be toned down by the merest fraction, but it doesn’t really stray from their basic template.  ‘Next To You’ has a strutting riff and slide guitar, but Rocco Sr's vocals are pitched at the same level as on everything else, and the drum assault doesn’t let up. ‘Fire On The Bayou’ may suggest that they’re in the market for a serving of funk, but it lacks the loose-limbed subtlety of The Meters’ original, even if some organ playing introduces a touch of much-needed dynamics. By the same token ‘That Driving Beat’ reaches for horn-driven soul-funk, and is actually quite likeable, but suffers from the air of relentlessness that pervades most of what’s on offer.

A cover of ‘99½ Won’t Do’ finds things toned down half a notch, with some wonky guitar effects thrown into the mix, but you’d be hard pressed to recognise its ancestry as a Wilson Pickett hit. But bizarrely, when they then trot out ‘Going Down’, a tune that begs for a crunching approach, they don’t absolutely put the hammer down.

Don’t get me wrong, Bring It On Home isn’t a bad album, and these guys can certainly play.  But they really should learn how to turn down the heat so that not every ingredient ends up overcooked.

Jock's Juke Joint Volume 4 - Various Artists

Happily, the first thing to be said about this latest selection of tunes from a range of Scottish blues artists is that they all pass muster - no duds, and with a pleasing degree of variety on display.  Several of the acts featured have been covered at Blues Enthused before as well, so watch out for the links below to learn more.

But to begin at the very end, the least blues-like and most astonishing offering here comes in the form of Neil Warden’s album closer ‘The Alchemist’.  With his Weissenborn lap steel guitar to the fore, over dreamy soundscapes courtesy of Stuart Mitchell, the veteran Edinburgh guitarist delivers an instrumental that comes over like a cross between an Arabic

Neil Warden - prepare to be astonished

version of ‘Cavatina’ and Angelo Baddalamenti’s theme for Twin Peaks.  Calling this atmospheric is like saying Usain Bolt is a bit nippy – listen and be struck dumb.

The opening track is an entirely different kettle of fish, in the form of ‘Too Many Guitars To Give Up Now’, the title track from the latest album by Andy Gunn.  A slice of good-time boogie infused with the spirit of ‘Roll Over Beethoven’, it references Gunn’s youthful discovery of “Jerry Lee, Little Richard, Fats Domino” as it barrels along with handclaps, rocking piano, and a fizzing solo from Gunn.  Its closest relation here, stylistically, is the rockabilly-leaning ‘Pebble By Pebble’ from Used Blues, an energetic romp garnished with shots of blues harp from front man Andy ‘Honeyboy’ Smith to complement the guitar of Jim Gardner.

Of a trio of R’n’B tracks scattered across the album, Five Grain Whisky’s ‘Sidewinder Blues’ is the pick of the bunch to these ears.  The rasping voice of Alex More is to the fore, sounding like he’s woken up from a long session on the aforementioned hooch as he snarls that “You’re lower than a snake’s belly-oh”.  It’s likeably simple, swinging and well-constructed, with a pleasing organ solo from Marty Wade.  ‘Temporary Man’ from Chasin’ The Train doesn’t have quite the same vim, but it sets off imaginatively with an intro of crackling vinyl grooves and slide twangery of ‘In My Time Of Dying Man’ proportions, before settling into a lively chug-a-boogie topped off by a biting guitar solo from Rory Nelson and wailing harp from Bob Clements.  Redfish add a convincing Stax soul twist to the formula

Redfish - not immaterial men

on ‘Immaterial Man’, riding along on a bobbing bass line from Rod McKay.  Fraser Clark’s organ playing fits the bill, though lacking the St Vitus Dance visual dimension of his live performance, but this leaves more room to admire the slithering, jabbing quality of Martin McDonald’s guitar.  And there’s a suitably soulful quality to the vocals of Stumblin’ Harris, on a song that here and there reminds me of Bobby ‘Blue’ Bland and ‘Stormy Monday Blues’.

There’s a different brand of soul in evidence on ‘I’m The Boss’, by Melissa Kelly & The Smokin Crows, one of a clutch of songs from outfits led by female singers.  Think ‘Think’ - in the sense that Kelly manages to produce a convincing Sixties sound in the vein of Aretha Franklin, full of parping horns and funky riffing as a foundation for Kelly’s energetic vocals – including a fresh-out-of-the-box whoop near the end.  The Lynsey Dolan Band offer an alternative proposition on ‘I Won’t Bring You Bring Down’.  With the light vibrato of Dolan’s vocal, a lush sound with piercing guitar from Gavin Bussey, and a yearning chorus laden with harmonies, it would do a good job as the closing theme to a movie romance.

Broken Windows, featuring singer-songwriter Liz Jones, produce something more personal with the song from which they take their name.  Is it blues?  No. Does it matter?  Same answer.  Across seven minutes ‘Broken Windows’ is a captivating affair, with Jones communicating intriguing imagery with sensitivity against a backdrop of subtle shadings from the rest of the band. It’s a rich rhythm section, with Marc Marnie’s drums augmented by

Broken Windows' Liz Jones gives it big licks

Suzy Cargill’s percussion and some bendy fretless bass from Rod Kennard.  Meanwhile John Bruce, a guitarist more often to be found playing straight up R’n’B or late Sixties American rock, explores a different palette that leans towards a Carlos McSantana vibe, and with Ali Petrie on keys the whole crew give the track a rousing crescendo.

Glasgow-based Aussie Charlie Marshall is a firecracker of a singer and frontwoman, and with the 45s serves up an animated, sassy performance that conjures up the ambience of an old-time N’Awlins speakeasy, drawing on the horns of Gordon Dickson and Fenwick Lawson, jungle drum rhythms from Michael Harrison, and jazzy piano from Tim Brough. The thing is, this is just a vignette of what Charlotte Marshall & The 45s can deliver – see them live to get the full effect.

Also in a New Orleans vein is ‘Velvet Windows (Treme Trippin’), from London-based Wily Bo Walker. A rich gumbo of a tune, it features Walker’s gravel-voiced storytelling over funky bass from Tommy Rhodes, tripping drums from Max Saidi, a battery of horns, keys colourings from the ubiquitous Stevie Watts, and some neat guitar from Mike Ross.  All told a minor work from Walker perhaps, but still a satisfying one.

Strolling a less rumbustious path are the Simon Kennedy Band, and Al Brown & The Blue Lighters. Kennedy’s ‘All Or Nothing’ ambles in on a ripple of piano and bursts of organ, and builds to an anthemic chorus given a gospel swell by some uncredited female backing vocals, while Kennedy adds some understated guitar licks wherever it takes his

Firecracker chanteuse Charlotte Marshall

fancy, ahead of a tasteful solo.  Meantime Al Brown is smoother than a silk stocking on the aching heart blues of ‘Caller Unknown’, as restrained a piece of bluesery as you’re ever likely to find, with some ooh-ooh-ing backing vocals reaching towards doo-wop territory.

Mike Bowden and the A917 Band offer a different form of subtlety with the semi-acoustic sounding ‘Poor Man’.  It’s plaintive and beguiling, understated but resonant, with an earworm of a chorus and a subtly Latin rhythm courtesy of the wonderfully named Big Vern on percussion. In it’s simplicity, ‘Poor Man’ is another of the standouts of the album.  Stoney Broke, alias multi-instrumentalist Jake Scott, is still more acoustic, a warm and dreamy affair with a nice melody and a well-judged electric guitar solo that complements the song.

Also stripped-back, but in a different fashion, is the Delta stomp of Andrew Robert Eustace’s ‘Broken Down And Beat’.  With a hypnotic groove, Eustace’s growling voice, a brittle guitar solo and a catchy chorus, it's one of the highlights of his album Stories.  And as old-style Mississippi as it may sound, the steady grind of it provides a curious link to the alt.blues of Black Cat Bone and Full Fat.  The former capture their lead-heavy, grungy blues rumble well on ‘Morning Light’, with groaning vocals and howling harp from Ross Craig over a dirty, fuzzy bottom end.  Full Fat don’t demonstrate quite the same raw conviction, but the trio’s ‘Temper Temper’ still has an offbeat, discordant energy that shows promise.

So there we have it – 18 tracks that show off a variety of contemporary sounds from artists with a Scottish connection, tracing their roots to the blues to a greater or lesser degree.  Get yourself along to Jock's Juke Joint, find your own favourites, and go explore!

Martin Harley & Daniel Kimbro - Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh, 24 March 2016

And now for something completely different.

Martin Harley goes Weissenborn-less

The blues is often described as a simple musical form, but it still manages to be multi-faceted.  So here we are tonight with Martin Harley and Daniel Kimbro, an unlikely duo hailing from Woking and Tennessee respectively, and playing Weissenborn lap steel guitar and stonkingly big double bass.  It’s about as far away from yer average blues rocker as it’s possible to get – but it works.

On the opening ‘Cardboard King’ Harley demonstrates a delicate touch on his lap steel, while Kimbro bows his bass, giving the song a deep and eerie undertow.  That may all sound a bit worthy, but the reality is anything but, as they go on to deliver a variety of material with an air of laconic wit.  Their combined sound is terrific on a jazzy reading of Muddy’s ‘I Can’t Be Satisfied’, and if they veer uncomfortably close to gypsy jazz on Harley’s own ‘Drumroll for Somersaults’ then thankfully that’s a one-off.  (If you like gypsy jazz then good luck to you, but I’ve never been a fan.)

‘Automatic Life’ is a good tune though, and stands up well next to a lovely version of Leadbelly’s ‘Goodnight Irene’, on which Harley executes a suitably woozy vocal.   But on the rattling ‘Money Don’t Matter’ they also show that they can swing plenty, coloured with some spot on vocal harmonies over the top of the rhythm.

These two li’l ol’ wine drinkers come across just as simpatico as Ian Siegal and Jimbo Mathus, if without the same degree of ragged charm.  They bounce off each other to create great rhythmic patterns on ‘Chocolate Jesus’ – following an introductory snatch of ‘Eye Of The Tiger’, just to underline that they don’t take themselves too seriously.

‘Blues At My Window’ starts off seriously slow before bursting into sudden attack mode, coming off like Tom Waits pouring himself in the door from the pub and then crashing around the kitchen. But set closer ‘Honey Bee’ buzzes along brightly in classic acoustic blues territory.

They encore with the similarly charming ‘Love In The Afternoon’, before tackling the venerable ‘Nobody’s Fault But Mine’, on which it has to be said they teeter on the edge of self-indulgence with some extended soloing that might have been better placed earlier in their set.  But that doesn’t alter the sense that these guys offer some distinct and different pleasures.

Gary Martin blows that thing

The Neil Warden/Gary Martin Trio – and guys, you really have got to get yourselves a better name than that – provide suitably imaginative support.  For a start Neil Warden is also toting a Weissenborn lap steel – like buses, they evidently all come along at once – and with Martin on harp and vocals and Jim Walker on drums their take on ‘Goin’ Down South’ is subtle, supple, and rhythmic.  Their variation on Muddy Waters’ ‘I’m Ready’ is measured and restrained, with heavy reverb on Warden’s guitar and Walker using brushes on drums, and the mood extends into the smoky New Orleans jazz feel of ‘Sexy Black Dress’, on which they’re joined by John Burgess on clarinet, duetting neatly with Martin’s harp.

Neil Warden goes Weissenborn

When Warden goes electric on ‘Red Hot Mama’ they really start swinging though, with the guitar and drums locked into an addictive groove while Martin gets busy with a Hornet mic for both his harp and vocals.  ‘The Dream’ is a slower affair, with Warden reverting to lap steel and working up a spooky level of reverb in the manner of Link Wray on ‘Rumble’.

They finish up with a couple of songs harking back to Martin and Warden’s past endeavours with the late Tam White.  They work up a funky head of steam on ‘Working Class White Boy’, Martin selling the song with a punchy vocal, and then close with the brooding slow stomper of ‘Stonemason’s Blues’, a belter of a song showing off White’s quality as a writer.  I don’t know if Warden, Martin and Walker plan to make this a regular thing, but this was certainly an entertaining and interesting diversion from the norm.

Glasgow’s Gus Munro opens the evening, playing solo on electric guitar, and also conjuring up a singular sound.  Making use of echo he layers guitar sounds nicely, with slide as the cherry on top. Singing repeated refrains in his slightly vulnerable voice he goes for a hypnotic vibe at times, to good effect on his ‘Fossil Grove’, inspired by Big George Watt’s song of the same name.  But he also gies it laldy on ‘Leaving Trunk Blues’, with some hammering rhythm guitar to complement a slice of falsetto vocal.  Like the acts to follow, he does a good job of exploring a road less travelled.