Clarence White + Chris Hillman = 1966 Gold

Clarence White fans, I have not forsaken you. Trust that lo these many keith moons, I have labored on the elaboration of the White tale. In a fortnight or so hence, 1972 will be loaded for bear. For now, an updated edition of Clarence White and his Transition to Telecaster: 1965-66. Originally posted: July 28, 2008. Part 2 of what figures to be a 12-part series. A new excerpt:

As 1966 came to a close, The Byrds were in the studio recording songs for Younger Than Yesterday. Hillman, inspired by his recent session work with Letta Mbulu and Hugh Masekela, brought his first songwriting efforts to the studio. I don't think there's enough critical appreciation of Hillman's artistic leap from Fifth Dimension to Younger Than Yesterday. He was an inventive, melodic bassist and provided great harmonies, but in a group with Roger/Jim McGuinn, Dave Crosby, and Gene Clark, he was a role player. He wrote zero Byrds songs prior to these sessions, only getting songwriting credits on instrumentals and folk rearrangements. And yet, on Younger he unleashed a murderer's row of excellence: "So You Want to Be a Rock 'n' Roll Star" (co-written w/McGuinn and featuring Masakela on trumpet), "Have You Seen Her Face," "Thoughts And Words," and two straight-up country-rock songs, "Time Between" and "The Girl With No Name." For the latter two, Hillman enlisted his old buddy Clarence to lay down the law. So, he did.

Byrds - Time Between [CD] [Vinyl] [eMusic]

Chris Hillman: "I got so excited coming out of (the Masekela) sessions that I wrote 'Time Between,' which had nothing to do groove-wise with what I'd been doing all day. It's really like a bluegrass tune."

Clarence, panned left, steals the show. The vocal harmonies and insistent right channel maraca is pure Beatles (or Sir Douglas Quintet, with whom The Byrds played many dates in 1965-66). White dominates the left channel, channeling Don Rich and then going way beyond Bakersfield. The solo from 1:13-1:31 is great, but his dive bomber run from :44-:58 is CW turning the corner and figuring out his electric guitar sound. In so doing, he also foreshadows his monster solo in "Tell Me."

If you're unfamiliar with the CW "revisitation project," here's what I spake in Chilton's Missing Years + Revisiting Clarence White:

"I've begun the arduous task of revisiting the Clarence White Chronicles. Aside from editing the prose, I'm fixing broken links and replacing pictures as needed. I'm also removing the individual song links from each page and replacing them with zip files. Think of them as downloadable playlists and in some cases I'll be adding a song or two.

In time, every CW post will have a zip file at the top of the page containing every song highlighted in that piece. Furthermore, the zips will work together as a master playlist. Therefore, if you DL every zip file and add every song to an iPod, the songs will be labeled in sequential order. Also, while the zips are named for each blog post, the songs themselves are tagged with the same album title: (The) Adios Lounge Presents: Clarence White. This is just another way to organize information in the era of the playlist. Clear as mud???"

Speaking of Chilton, that's where the Adios Lounge is going in a matter of days. Better buckle up.

A Blue Moon for Daddy

I'm in despair, I hear it like a trumpet everywhere,
How can I tell myself that I couldn't care about,
My baby crying?

If you didn't get the memo the first time around, Bill Fox is a bad, bad man. His two albums, Shelter From The Smoke (1997) and Transit Byzantium (1998), seamlessly blend acoustic folk with country, pop, and hints of punk rock, but with an emotional honesty befitting Townes Van Zandt and Iris DeMent. In an era of hype machine ejaculate and self-congratulatory irony, Bill Fox offers a naked window into the human condition. To all the fathers who cannot be with their children, an Adios Lounge homage.



Dedicated with love to my daughter, Leilani. I think of you always.

Engine Pushing Steam

I already said this is your new favorite band, so everyone should be on the same page. This Columbus, Ohio, four-piece produces beautifully cacophonous pop songs reminiscent of Bowie, Costello, and Neutral Milk Hotel. Actually, they remind me of a totally pop-savvy Geraldine Fibbers, if anyone remembers that band of gypsies. I love that Ghost Shirt agreed to play some random downtown alley for a short acoustic video set. Totally punk rock.

GHOST MF'IN SHIRT - STEAM ENGINE



"Good pop songs, played really loud, with strings over the top of it."

PANDE-FU**IN'-MONIUM!

photo: Nat (The Cat) Robinson

With all the hubbub of the Exile reissue, you may have missed the recent release of Otis Redding, Live At The Sunset Strip. I'm sure this will be shocking news, but Otis is a revelation, breathlessly leading his 10-piece orchestra through four April 1966 nights at the 400-capacity Whisky A Go Go. Stupid broken time machine. At least we have the CD.

Otis Redding - Security [CD] [eMusic]

"The band would go, '1, 2, 3 ...' and Otis would come charging out of the wings, do a side slide right past the microphone, then slide back and grab the microphone, and start shouting out 'I Can't Turn You Loose.' Well, PANDE-FUCKIN'-MONIUM! Everyone in the place was just nuts. Otis did stuff, he bent words around -- the thing I learned from him -- we used to say 'worry a line,' which meant hold on to it and shake it a little bit -- the song, the line, the note. 'These...arms...of...miiiiine...' that would kill me."
--Taj Mahal, whose band Rising Sons opened each of Otis' shows, in Randy Lewis' excellent LA Times piece, When Otis Redding caught a groove at the Whisky a Go Go, May 20, 2010

Truthfully, Otis is too good for the band, who can barely keep up. Listen to this and Live In Europe back-to-back ... the latter recorded in March 1967 with Booker T & The MGs and the Memphis Horns ... and Sunset Strip pales. But, that only means that within the realm of live Otis Redding documents, the album falls a bit short. There ain't enough Otis catalog to spend too long nitpicking. Just get it.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?"

Otis' stand at the Whisky takes a relevant turn when viewed as an act of racial integration. (And this is where I mentally ask myself, 'Do you really want to go there? Race, really? To which I counter with a good point, 'If there's one subject that Americans can be counted upon to discuss like mature, reasonable adults, it's race relations. Think about it, when's the last time that turned ugly???' Point taken. Race it is).

"(The Whisky) did a lot to integrate what went down on the Sunset Strip. In the beginning, Elmer and Mario (Maglieri, co-owner) would have Martha And The Vandellas there, or they'd have The Temptations, and all these people would be showing up and looking at each other, 'What are you doing here?' The white people would be looking at the black people, black people would looking at the white people, and everybody'd be looking at the Mexicans."
--Taj Mahal, Live At The Sunset Strip liner notes

"People don't realize how segregated it was. Black musicians didn't come to Sunset. Word got out that this was a super hot show, nothing like anyone had seen in Los Angeles, unless you went to the 5/4 Ballroom, where you could have seen people like T-Bone Walker or Count Basie. But not on the Sunset Strip, which was still very segregated."
--Ry Cooder (co-leader of the Rising Sons), When Otis Redding caught a groove at the Whisky a Go Go, May 20, 2010

The Sunset Strip in 1966 was a playground for mostly well-to-do white kids raised on The Byrds, Beach Boys, and Beatles. Aside from occasional dalliances with the Motown family of acts ... or integrated local bands like Love and Rising Sons ... mid-'60s Los Angeles was a Kookie, Gidgety blend of Anglo and Saxon. Into this breach stepped Otis Redding and his southern brand of black funk.

Otis Redding - Satisfaction [CD] [eMusic]

"They played ('Satisfaction') three times as fast as the record -- I could not believe how fast he did that song. And they did it perfectly. They didn't overplay -- you couldn't at that speed. Nobody soloed, nobody did anything fancy because they knew, he's the star. It was good, flat out, top-of-the-line soul music."
--Ry Cooder, When Otis Redding caught a groove at the Whisky a Go Go, May 20, 2010