JW-Jones - Voodoo Rooms, Edinburgh, 3 December 2017

JW-Jones knows his onions, as they probably never say in his hometown of Ottawa.  Spruce looking in his shirt and tie, in a manner Muddy and the Wolf would have approved of, he and his band display an intuition for the blues, in numerous hues and shades, that guarantees a good night out.

They kick off with the energetic Lonnie Mack instrumental ‘Wham’, its influence on SRV clear, before getting into a brace of originals from his latest album High Temperature.  On the title track he shows off his ability to coax delightfully wonky notes from his gold top Les

JW-Jones - covers plenty of blues bases

Paul, before taking ‘Price You Pay’, and kicking its ass in a live setting by applying some very Stones-like grit to the riff.

Having introduced his own style, he and his compadres then apply themselves to some serious workouts around covers of a couple of Kings, namely BB and Albert. On the former he capitalises on some well jazzy bass and drums from Laura Greenberg and Will Laurin respectively, displaying effortlessly good tone with both finger picking and a pick, and conjuring up a fiery, swinging solo.  On the latter – ‘You’re Gonna Need Me’, I reckon – he then reinforces his command of the masters with a fluid and at times sotto voce (ie quiet, folks) solo in the midst of a chunky sound aided by a great bass groove from Greenberg.

‘Watch Your Step’ is a slice of rock’n’roll over a syncopated rhythm and heavy, rumbling bass, with Laurin and Greenberg, respectively, well in synch.  But as the set wears on Jones’ command of the genre becomes steadily more apparent, whether it be the imaginative solo he revs up to big proportions on a Charlie Musselwhite and Ben Harper, the slinkiness of ‘Some Mistakes’, or the heaviness he brings to Buddy Guy’s ‘Tell Me What’s Inside Of You’.  Jones covered the latter on his 2014 Belmont Boulevard, and the heaviness is entirely appropriate given the extent to which Buddy drew on the riff from Freddie King’s ‘Going Down’, but he gives it his own spin here with some more interesting guitar wrangling over bubbly, funky bass from Greenberg.

As the set progresses they loosen it up more, with ‘Magic West Side Boogie’ developing from a spangly intro into some seriously chug-along boogie and a touch of Dick Dale, while Laura Greenberg’s bass skills become steadily more evident.  Little wonder that the lady is on the end of a Maple Blues Award nomination.  Jones, meanwhile, takes the opportunity to segue into a ‘Voodoo Chile’ orientated solo and some more Jimi style avenues, conjuring up some shimmering sounds and good use of harmonics, before returning explosively to the tune at hound.

‘French Toast’ is an instrumental that allows them to have some fun, swapping instrumental

Laura Greenberg and JW-Jones - who plays what around here?

parts around, with Jones on drums and Greenberg striking a suitably rock chick pose on guitar in between paying homage to great rock riffs and even TV themes we have loved, to the evident delight of some of the punters.  Some behind the heads guitar playing from both Jones and Greenberg

They encore with the Fabulous Thunderbirds’ ‘Rock With Me Tonight’, on which Jones again offers up some tasteful playing to round off proceedings, following on from an impressive bass solo from Greenberg.

JW-Jones is a real student of the blues, and it’s apparent in the variety and wit of his guitar work.  He and his band put on a seriously good show.  Personally I think that if he played some more of his own songs towards the end instead of doing a bit of a blues-rock jukebox, then it would be even better.  But that’s just my preference – there were plenty in this crowd who lapped up Jones' performance regardless.

Support comes in the form of local two piece outfit Dixie Fried, with guitarist/vocalist Craig Lamie and drummer John Murphy going on a tour of North Mississippi hill country blues.  Lamie produces some satisfying guitar passages, picking bass notes with his thumb while playing over drumming from Murphy that’s often minimal.

There’s a touch of the White Stripes ‘getting away with it’ philosophy as they get into a Junior Kimbrough-referenced song with a Celtic lyrical twist, called ‘That Old Black And White’, which has nice rippling guitar over a simple kick drum beat.  Occasionally things feel a little bit stiff, reminiscent of the adage “it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing.”  But on the whole Dixie Fried show a commendable readiness to explore their very own slipping and sliding Mississippi vocation, with some real drive and grit on their set closer – and enough cowbell to make a hit of ‘Don’t Fear The Reaper’.

Read the exclusive Blues Enthused interview with JW-Jones here.
And read the review of his latest album High Temperature here.

   

Flashback #9 - Texas

A month or two back I came across an interview in The Times with Sharleen Spiteri of Texas.  It was ghastly.  Full of celebrity tosh about how the best haircut she’s ever had was done by Kate Moss at her kitchen table, it seemed like a singularly naff means of promoting the latest Texas album, Jump On Board.  But given that it was apparently a top ten album in both Britain and France, what do I know?

To be honest, I didn’t even realise Texas were still in existence.  I imagined that they’d withered on the vine years ago.  But once upon a time, when they were just out of the starting blocks, this was a band that managed to get bluesy, soul-inflected pop music into the upper reaches of both the singles and album charts.

Texas - all the young dudes

And they were hip too, part of a wave of Scottish bands such as Deacon Blue that achieved success in the late 80s and early Nineties.  When they played at Glasgow’s ‘Big Day Out’ festival, part of the city’s year as European City Of Culture, Maria McKee guested with them.  Unlike Sheena Easton, returning from the States for the event with a cod American accent to widespread scorn, Texas had credibility.

I remember seeing them at a sold out Edinburgh Playhouse, probably around 1991 on the release of their second album, Mother’s Heaven.  The place looked sold out, and they strolled on stage to guaranteed acclaim.  They were on home turf of course, but it was still good to see a proper band, playing honest to goodness music, getting so much attention.  You could identify with them.

Their debut album Southside had a bone fide hit single in the form of ‘I Don’t Want A Lover’, a string of other strong songs for which bassist John McElhone wrote the music, and as a title track a nifty little blues guitar instrumental from Ally McErlaine.  The drumming was a bit stodgy mind you, mostly relying on the same rhythm throughout.  With a new drummer in Richard Hynd and the addition of Eddie Campbell on keyboards, I found their sound on Mother’s Heaven had more range and colour on songs like 'Why Believe In You' and the moody 'Walk The Dust'.  Chart wise they were already slipping though, and the following album Rick’s Road didn’t really hit the mark for me.  Strangely my copy of the CD seems to have gone AWOL, so whether that was a fair assessment I don’t know.

And then, of course, they came back a few years later with the spectacularly successful White On Blonde, featuring hits like ‘Say What You Want’ – with its pretty blatant nod to Marvin Gaye’s ‘Sexual Healing’ – and ‘Halo’.  It also focused their image almost entirely on Spiteri, an approach they’ve generally stuck to thereafter.

Well, I suppose musicians do what they have to do in order to get by, and major labels are all too ready to influence the marketing .  And it’s not as if Texas has morphed into Spiteri and a bunch of hired hands – she, McElhone and McErlaine have stuck together throughout, and good on them for that.  But still, it feels as if the down to earth ethos Texas had in the beginning, of a real band committed to following in the traditions of their influences, got lost along the way.

Ah well, c’ést la vie, the past is another country and all that.  Maybe I should give Jump On Board a listen, and see if they still show their roots beneath the sheen of success.

Samantha Fish - Stramash, Edinburgh, 27 November 2017

What a difference a day makes, as Dinah Washington sang.  In which case, how much difference can three years make?

The last time I saw Samantha Fish live was in 2014, about this time of year, on an another cold night in Edinburgh.  She was supporting Mike Zito, in an uncomfortably large venue for the size of audience, and borrowing his rhythm section.  As good as she was, and as good as Rob Lee and Scot Sutherland from The Wheel are, tonight's performance was from a whole other dimension.  Sam Fish has matured hugely in the intervening years.

Samantha Fish - have a cigar, boy

Whether it’s working with other producers and musicians, or honing her skills through incessant touring, young Ms Fish has become a band leader, full of poise and confidence to go with her vocal and guitar skills.

And what skills.  As a singer, Sam Fish is astonishing.  With her range and control, soaring and swooping with incredible clarity, she has a singular vocal style.  And she makes the most of it with her delivery, telling stories expressively, whether it’s the cute humour of ‘Chills And Fever’, the smoky call and response passage with Mark Levron’s trumpet on ‘You’ll Never Change’, or the stunning simplicity of ‘Go Home’.  How the hell she turns this in night after night is beyond me.  Take good care of that voice girl.

As for the guitar, anyone thinking that song selections from the soul’n’rhythm’blues led Chills and Fever and the Americana-spun Belle Of The West would be lightweight reckoned without the rollicking rock’n’roll of her soloing on ‘Little Baby’, complemented by great bass runs from Chris Alexander.  Or the slide guitar on ‘Blame It On The Moon’, building into a southern rock style crescendo before falling away into a delicate piano coda from Phil Breen.  Or the extended and inventive, effects-tinged solo in a slowed down segment of ‘Somebody’s Always Trying’.  Or the big licks with cigar box guitar on set closer ‘Crow Jane’. Or – well, you get the picture.

For me the absolute pick of the set, where all this comes together, is the aching torch song ‘Nearer To You’, culminating in a gut-wrenching finale of wailing vocals, interleaved with wild guitar that’s underpinned by walloping drumming from Kenny Tudrick.  It’s a performance that completely transcends the album version.

Not much point in being a good band leader unless you have a crack band, of course, and

Acoustic, Americana, stunning simplicity

the boys backing the front lady deliver on that front, deserving their showcases on ‘It’s Your Voodoo Working’, Breen kicking off with a wicked organ solo.  Levron and sax man Travis Blotsky offer up an impressive horn duel, and Chris Alexander a cracking bass solo – and that’s a phrase I don’t use very often – before Tudrick does a brief but telling bit of tub thumping. Alexander in particular offers a good foil for his boss, grooving and grinning in equal measure throughout.

As for the audience, she develops an effortless rapport with them, playful and funny, down to earth – and visibly into it, with her stylish Marilyn-style mop flailing around as she gets stuck in to a solo.

Regrets – I have a few.  Nice to have her do a solo acoustic number for sure, but I reckon Belle Of The West offers stronger options than ‘Blood In The Water’, such as ‘Need You More’.  I’d have loved to hear her amped up version of ‘Gone For Good’ as well.  And it’s a shame she turns her back on material from before Wild Heart, as there’s still really good stuff in there, such as ‘Kick Around’.

There are times though, when you just need to take your sense of proportion, and chuck it out the window.  And when the crowd were roaring “Right now, right now” on cue, as Sam and co rocked out on final encore ‘Bitch On The Run’, that time had long since passed. Don’t be a stranger Samantha.

Read the review of Belle Of The West here.

Read the Blues Enthused interview with Samantha Fish here.

Rufus Black - Rise Up

How did this one get past me?  Maybe because Rufus Black is a bit of misdirection – there is, in fact, no-one called Rufus Black in Rufus Black, a band led by guitar hot shot and sometime Tom Jones sideman Scott McKeon. Whatever, released back in August, this debut album may have taken a while to appear on my radar, but it’s going to be getting repeated plays from here on.

Opening up with the clanking funk rhythm of ‘Shut Up’, the immediate impression is of Free having overdosed on James Brown for a weekend – not least because Gavin Conder’s voice is going to draw obvious comparisons with Paul Rodgers.  The following ‘Make A Move’ underlines the Free vibe, but more to the point demonstrates the subtleties the band are capable of deploying, keeping it fairly spare, and closing with a lengthy coda of swirling vocal harmonies as a backdrop to a stinging guitar solo from the fingers of either McKeon or his fellow guitar-toter Ben Jones.

Scott McKeon and Gavin Condor - not Rufus Black

They chuck in a few covers that pin their soul-funk influences on their sleeves. The Isley Brothers’ ‘It’s Your Thing’ is the funkiest angle, complete with horns, while ‘I Just Want To Make Love To You’ and ‘Take Me To The River’ both add twists to the originals to keep them fresh, with the rhythm section of Russ Parker on drums and Leighton Allen on bass laying down interesting grooves.

‘Still Haven’t Seen You Cry’ is an expansive slice of funk that Paolo Nutini might have fancied for Caustic Love, and features some innovative guitar licks and scratchy sounds.  ‘Can’t Feel My Face’, on the other hand, takes a rather naff example of modern R’n’B from The Weeknd, and recasts it perfectly as an aching soul ballad on which Conder channels his inner Percy Sledge.

‘Get What’s Mine’ is a straight ahead reading of a restrained funk outing by Devonian singer-songwriter Jon Allen.  Nope, I’d never heard of him either.  It may not be the strongest tune on show here, but I reckon Signor Allen is still deserving of a bit more research.

The most dramatic venture on display is ‘Whisky Town’.  From a moody, minimalist opening, Conder gets cooking, demonstrating great feel in speeding up and slowing down his phrasing, as well as deploying some bluesy moaning to good effect. Then the guitar – McKeon’s, I’m guessing – stretches out beautifully with a controlled, clear-toned, piercing solo.  It’s seven minutes worth that goes by in a flash.

The title track brings the curtain down.  Firmer and a tad less funk-laden than what’s gone before, it has a suitably anthemic Free-meets-Humble Pie feel on which to close.

Rise Up is another in a catalogue of impressive albums released in 2017.  I’m hoping that Rufus Black isn’t going to be just an occasional side project for Scott McKeon and co.  I wanna hear more of 'em.

Little Steven and The Disciples Of Soul - O2 Academy, Glasgow, 12 November 2017

Onstage is a man who is a walking encyclopedia of scrappy, underdog American pop, a champion of the music of the urban outsiders.  He’s also a singular guitarist and horn arranger.  He’s backed by an 11-piece band, like he means business.  And three backing singers too.

Oh yeah, the backing singers.  Now, I’m not talking about some autopilot mannekins here.  These are the sassiest trio you’re ever likely to come across.  They're wearing violet silk thigh boots, and these ladies ain’t shrinkin’ from nothin’.  To paraphrase a line from The Commitments, “Inspired management, Brother Steven”.

Steve Van Zandt rides the night away

Yes friends, I am talking about Little Steven, aka Steve Van Zandt, here with his Disciples of Soul.  And joking apart, he rightly tells us at one point that those singers are “dancing their asses off”, setting the tone for a night of sweaty R’n’B and soul and rock’n’roll that demands you shake your booty.

The set is based firstly around the material from new album Soulfire, before winding around to some stuff from his Eighties albums, but before getting to any of that Stevie leads them into the fray with a downright perfect rendition of Tom Petty’s ‘Even The Losers’.

‘I’m Coming Back’, originally crafted for Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes before re-surfacing on the new album, has a classic Jukes style horn riff, a chorus so great that it seems simply inevitable, and a scything solo from Van Zandt – and is just one example of thunderous drumming from Rich Mercurio.  Mercurio may work with just a small kit, but he is a veritable beast.

Thereafter Stevie punctuates the set with a guided tour of his inspirations.  Highlights include the likes of Etta James’ ‘Blues Is My Business’, featuring stabbing horns and a wild organ solo from Andy Burton, and ‘Some Things Just Don’t Change’, on which he channels “the King of Despair”, David Ruffin, nailing the soul mood and the phrasing.  There’s ‘The City Weeps Tonight’, a eulogy to post-war harmony groups on which the sheer passion of Van Zandt’s singing is apparent.  Then in complete contrast there’s the restless funk of ‘Down And Out In New York City’.  Originally recorded by James Brown for the movie Black Caesar, it features a succession of flute and horn solos, and a crescendo into which Austin Powers-garbed guitarist Marc Ribler casually slips a reference to the riff from ‘Hey Joe’.

The Unshrinking Violets

Along the way there are other delights, like Van Zandt and Ribler ripping into a guitar duel on ‘Angel Eyes’, the irresistible horns on ‘I Saw The Light’ and Stevie uncorking an eyeballs out solo at one point to get everyone shakin' all over.

Down the stretch though, it’s an absolute melting pot of soul and New York punk and even reggae.  At the outset he may have said with a twinkle in his eye that back in the Eighties he felt the need to do music about politics, but now there was no need so tonight would be “a sanctuary from politics”.  Still, there’s no shaking the relevance of songs like ‘Solidarity’, with its haunting mid-section, as well as ‘I Am A Patriot’ and the Latin-inflected, floor-shaking rhythms of ‘Bitter Fruit’.

He throws in a couple of other Southside classics just for fun, with the rifferama of ‘Ride The Night Away’ and the romance of ‘I Don’t Want To Go Home’.  But there’s no way the night could end with anything other than ‘Out Of The Darkness’, with the crowd pumping their fists and in full voice.

Some folk say that nostalgia’s not what it used to be.  But when Steve Van Zandt revisits his roots and his repertoire with a two hour show of anthemic soul like this, it doesn’t half take me back to my youth.