Country Sleepers, Jukebox Weepers And Settin' The Woods On Fire

The sky draped over the treetops like a huge, black tarpaulin with a thousand tiny pinpricks for stars, and the soft breeze of late September held the scent of hot, dusty roads and California sage. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I stepped from the sputtering Greyhound and into the night air at the small bus depot on the edge of nowhere. The earthy aroma mixed for a moment with the pungent smell of gasoline from the nearby pumps. I paused, breathed in deeply, and wondered just what might be next in line for me. More a wide spot in the road than a proper terminal, the depot was merely a deserted waylay station for quick refueling, devoid of life, charm or comfort. From there, the departing passenger like myself was left on his own to reach their final destination. Stretching my legs for the first time in what felt like hours, I collected my bag from the solemn driver who never said a word, lit my last cigarette and wondered off into the silent, empty darkness and towards the nearest town.

The lamps along the roadway were widely spaced, creating long stretches of darkness from pole to pole. In between, there was nothing but the sound of gravel crunching beneath my feet, broken only by the occasional whoosh of a passing truck or the howl of a coyote from a distant ridge top. The road signs all displayed the inherent trademark of rural living in this gold mining country --- hills that are haunted by the ghosts of countless prospectors who came to find their fortunes --- each pocked with bullet holes to ward off boredom. They might easily double as a notice to strangers about to enter into the world of their old ways in these insular mountain communities. Walking the shoulder with bag in hand, my thoughts wondered restless and troubled. It's funny how life can throw you into a tailspin at the drop of a dime. Sometimes the warning signs are there for you to see, but instead, you stand frozen in stasis like a deer in the headlights, hoping against hope for divine intervention. Other times you're caught entirely off guard, like witnessing a car crash, helpless, unable to do anything but watch the carnage unfold. The cruelest cut is that regardless of circumstance, you're left with the consequences, feeling as though you've broken every bone in your body. My bones were aching now, and my mind reeled from the events of the last few days. I was falling hard and fast, but I had no idea just how far I might go.

Feeling parched from the dusty, fine ground dirt of a long, dry summer, I looked forward to rest, savoring the prospect a developing a relationship with a strong drink at the first saloon I encountered. The elixer held promise of soothing my arid throat, but more so, to soften my frayed nerves from what now had become a very long and bumpy journey. I had no particular plan or purpose at hand. I only knew that I was running from something I'd hoped to leave far behind me, but to what end, I just didn't know.

I was signaled to the approaching edge of town by the glare of light from a late night convenience store. Its parking lot was empty, save for one car that likely belonged to the proprietor inside. As I neared the establishment, my ears filled with the hum of a battered ice vending machine. Approaching the entrance, the buzz of neon harmonized with the hum from the cooler, creating the unique and mystifying music of electricity. The screen door opened easier than I expected, revealing a gray whiskered old timer behind the counter who threw me a suspicious glance. Determining that I posed no threat, he went back to his newspaper diet, completely ignoring me from that point on. Buying a pack of Lucky's and a deck of cards, I asked the old man for the whereabouts of a well stocked tavern and a friendly face. He stoically directed me to the Calico Saloon with the assurance that there, a man could find as much stiff drink as he could possibly handle. He added there may even be a room to let, provided the barkeep was in a generous mood. Thanking him for his suggestion, I stepped back out into night, lit another smoke and headed for my new, and only destination.

The Calico was an old west sawdust kind of affair. Its worn and creaking floorboards had no doubt seen the girth of American history trod across its tired grain. The kind of place where drinks probably once flowed quite freely, the hapless 49'er spending his hard earned coin for an inebriated mind, only to be hit up for a handsome tariff on the way out, lest he wished for trouble on his claim. Dimly lit, the yellowed walls were stained from a century and a half of cigarette and cigar smoke, and the smell of one too many spilled beers permeated the thick air. On those walls, artifacts from a bygone day hung like tarnished jewelry from neck of a grand old dame, down on her luck. Surveying the room, I spotted rusted panning trays, spades, and various tools of the mining trade. Weathered prospectors stared from tattered photographs, and news clippings told the story of coffee pots that once percolated with the most acidic of brews, a mix of coffee grounds, chicory, sweat and the rich Sierra dirt. Off in the far corner were two souls, man and woman, married no doubt for 30 some years with nothing left to say except, "Ready for another round?" Staring silently at their drinks, they didn't seem to notice I'd even entered the room. At the far end of the bar sat a few more locals, hard working blue collar guys with some Jefferson's in their pocket and dust in their hair. They lingered late, looking to me as though they were avoiding the return to their wife and kids for as long as possible. Over beers, they talked of power tools and endless unfinished home projects needing attention. Between them all, a heavy sort of melancholia spread across the room and sadness hung in the air like a bad smell. I had hoped to find a friendly face, but there were none to be found. They all looked as lost as myself and that suited me fine. I was in the company of my own kind. Soaking it all in, I settled like raindrops on a weathered bar stool and ordered the drink I'd craved since that wide spot on the highway. It ran like water down my chalky pipes and the taste of its promise called for another cigarette. Lighting up, I ordered a second round and wandered over to the jukebox. Leaning intently into its dancing lights, I pondered the choices I was about to make. Dropping a handful of quarters into the coin slot, I punched B13 and immediately the sound of heartbreak filled the room. It floated through the air and mingled nicely with the loneliness. I walked back slowly to the stool and took my place at the bar. Raising the shot glass to my lips, I began tending to my wounds and confronting the ghosts that were now haunting me.

©2008 Miles Mellough

Part One

1) I Can Almost See It/Linda Ronstadt
2) Funny How Time Slips Away/Willie Nelson
3) Brass Buttons/Gram Parsons
4) Cryin' Over You/Rosie Flores
5) My House Is Not A Home Anymore/Tim Armstrong
6) Tennessee Blues/Doug Sahm
7) 'The Television Mission'
8) Stompin' At The Savoy/The Country All-Stars
9) I Flew Over Our House Last Night/Joe Henry
10) When Will I Be Loved/The Everly Brothers
11) I Wish I Didn't Love You So/K.D. Lang
12) Unfaithful Servant/The Band
13) Sittin' On Top Of The World/Vasser Clements
14) Cry, Cry, Cry/Johnny Cash
15) 'The Television Mission'
16) Be Real/Wayne Douglas
17) Pipe Dreams/Asleep At The Wheel
18) This Broken Heart/The Mavericks
19) Don't Put No Headstone On My Grave/Charlie Rich
20) From A Kitchen Table/Dave Alvin
21) Reason To Cry/Lucinda Williams
22) Born To Love You/Michael Nesmith
23) 27/Tom Freund

Part Two

1) God May Forgive You (But I Don't)/Rosie Flores
2) Chanel No.#5/American Music Club
3) My Dear Mama/Kimm Rogers
4) She's Leaving Me Because She Really Wants Too/Lyle Lovett
5) Crazy/Willie Nelson
6) Settin' The Woods On Fire/Hank Williams
7) Ooh Las Vegas/Gram Parsons
8) 'The Happy Hour News'
9) Wrapped In My Sweet Savior's Arms/Grey Delisle
10) Tears Of Rage/The Band
11) Anytime/Buddy Emmons
12) If You've Got Leaving On Your Mind/Patsy Cline
13) Girl In A Car/Kim Richie
14) Fool No.#1/Raul Malo
15) 'Channel 6, The Hot One For The High Desert'
16) If He's Ever Near/Linda Ronstadt
17) The Image Of Me/Conway Twitty
18) Do Something/Chet Atkins, Homer Hayes & Jethro Burns
19) Wine Colored Roses/George Jones
20) The Hole He Said He'd Dig For Me/Jerry Lee Lewis
21) River Of Love/T-Bone Burnett
22) Joy/Harry Nilsson
23) If I Should Dream Of You (Don't Wake Me Up)/Stephen Yerkey

To download Part One, click here. For Part Two, here.

Ain't It For Real (The Love And Pain Of Chris Youlden)

Singer Chris Youlden was the former lead vocalist for the British blues band, Savoy Brown, who along with the original Fleetwood Mac, John Mayall's Bluesbreaker's, Alexis Korner's Blues Incorporated, and early Cream were part of the English blues/rock movement of the 1960's. Specializing in a swampy sort of Chicago blues, Savoy Brown found an audience among the American ballroom crowd, particularly those at Detroit's Grande, where their brand of boogie was simpatico with the Motor City industrial aesthetic. With his seemingly ever present cigar, and prone to adopting a Bowler hat and monocle for presence, Youlden made for a somewhat affected, but memorable front man. Although Savoy Brown were never my cup of tea, I did take an interest in a few of their recordings, namely 'Raw Sienna' and 'Street Corner Talking,' but I soon lost their number and eventually fell out of touch. In 1972, after Youlden had split the band, he released his first solo outing, 'Nowhere Road,' which then caught my ear with the great 'Pick Up My Dogs And Gone,' a far cry from the Savoy Brown sound. A highly seasoned debut, 'Nowhere Road' contained a few other spices in the form of 'Cryin' In The Road,' 'In The Wood,' and 'Wake Up Neighbours,' aided by the help of Chris Spedding, Danny Kirwan, and others. Marginally successful, it was the aforementioned 'Pick Up My Dogs' that pointed the direction for his follow up, the more confident and enlightened 'Citychild' one year later, this time with Jack Mills and Pete Wingfield adding their talents to the fold. Key tracks here were 'Conjure Wife,' 'The Morning Light,' 'Keep You Lamp Lit' and 'Walking The Streets Again.' Collectively, these two LP's showcase a musician who was not only spreading his wings, but also stretching the boundaries of his native muse to create a thoroughly satisfying and enjoyable set of music. If you're expecting Savoy Brown redux, it's not what you'll find here. There's none of the status quo that's normally associated with the style of blues they mined; dueling guitars and such, gratuitous drum solos, or cries of "let's boogie now!" Instead, you'll hear songs in a well executed blues based platform with interesting arrangements that incorporate tinges of jazz, rhythm & blues, and soul, all under 5 minutes in length, and all delivered in the inimitable voice of Chris Youlden. Give it a spin!

Nowhere Road

1) Nowhere Road
2) One October Day
3) Chink Of Sanity
4) Cryin' In The Road
5) Mama, Don't You Talk So Loud
6) Standing On The Corner
7) In The Wood
8) Wake Up Neighbour
9) Street Sounds
10) Time Will Tell
11) Pick Up Your Dogs And Gone


Citychild

12) Conjure Wife
13) Born And Raised In The City
14) The Morning Light
15) Keep Your Lamp Lit
16) Little Cog In A Big Wheel
17) Peace Of Mind
18) Walking The Streets Again
19) Spare Change
20) Love And Pain
21) Ain't It For Real

To download, click here.

The Granddaddy Of Jazz Radio (KJAZ-FM)

When KRE-FM in Berkeley was purchased in the late 70's by Inner City Broadcasting, the staff was informed that our new call letters would soon become KBLX. Since Inner City was and perhaps still is the largest Black owned and operated broadcasting company in America, it stood to reason that this was potentially good news for all concerned, for in our typical laid-back West Coast manner, we naively speculated that the 'BLX' indicated a decidedly Afrocentric direction on the part of the new owners ('Blacks.' Get it?). After all, they did name themselves after the inner city. It only stood to reason, right? Wrong. Had we done our homework, we would have discovered that 'BLX' was in direct correlation to New York City's WBLX, also owned by Inner City, who that same decade was a powerful and extremely high profile disco and dance station in downtown Manhattan! Now disco and dance music was so far off our radar, it never occurred to us that people might actually listen to that sort of thing on their radios! But before long, all manner of designer suits began descending upon our little island of progressive jazz, each worn by incredibly savvy, suave and well manicured East Coast mocha skinned businessmen with tight Jheri Curls who appeared to have stepped directly from the pages of Jet Magazine or an advertisement for Hennessy. In short order, the progressive jazz format was silenced to unveil with great fanfare the insufferable and unspeakable 'Quiet Storm,' harbinger of smooth jazz and all it stands to represent. What more could have come from BMW driving Hennessy drinkers, besides tones of beige and tasseled loafers? The dream was clearly over.

Meanwhile, I had been encouraged by several colleagues to approach the granddaddy of all jazz radio stations, the luminous KJAZ in Alameda, the longest running commercial jazz station in the United States. KJAZ was established in 1959 by Pat Henry who lovingly guided it to become the premiere outlet for jazz in all its forms, broadcasting an 35 incredible years until it's ultimate demise in 1994.* Its studios were housed in an unassuming 2nd story residential flat above the downtown merchants of the small island community in the San Francisco Bay. Through its doors and up the stairwell climbed nearly every giant of jazz that roamed the earth in the latter half of the 20th century, a testament to its prestige, for KJAZ was not only legendary, it was the foremost authority and source for jazz music on the radio dial. If this didn't apply coast to coast, then it certainly was true, west of the Mississippi. After approaching the Program Director, I was initially offered fill-in shifts, as full time positions were rarely available. After all, who would willingly walk away from such a cool gig as this? The part time arrangement suited me fine, as I was still under contract with KRE, and besides, the prospect of performing on KJAZ was a bit intimidating to me. The air staff there were all older than myself, and great guys each and every one,** well informed, passionate and committed, but these were the guys who had been in the jazz trenches for far longer than I. Any of them could have easily done the old Downbeat magazine 'Blindfold Test,' wherein you are played a new and undisclosed selection of music and then asked to identify the players based on what you gleaned from the recording just heard. "Well, the drummer is definitely Billy Higgins. Nobody does brushwork quite the same way he does. And the tenor player (pause), it could be Jimmy Heath. I can't exactly tell, but there's a bit of that 'little Bird' sound in there" and so on. In comparison, I felt as though I were still getting my feet wet, despite my on-air experience at KRE. Surprisingly, the biggest challenge I faced was whenever I was called to cover for the host of 'Dinner Jazz,' a popular program that ran from 6pm to 8:30pm, Monday through Saturday. The premise was 2 1/2 hours of innocuous soft and romantic jazz designed to aid and assist the sophisticated, but harried listener in unwinding from their busy day to enjoy a evening meal with good wine and conversation over the tinkling of pianos and breathy tenor saxophones. Upon reflection, it was not unlike the 'Quiet Storm' which I was so looking to avoid, only with a better selection of music from which to choose and a running time of only 150 minutes, thank God! Despite an incredible library at your command, it's still extremely difficult to program several hours of ballads and the like, while trying to keep things interesting or from falling into a soft jazz stupor. The host, Bob Parlocha was a consummate pro, handling the flow with grace where I often floundered, struggling to inject rhythmic variation and color without adding too many vocal tracks, becoming too uptempo, or jarring the mood. It's a hard task, much harder than you might imagine, but below are 13 selections that I believe effectively capture the approach as it was intended to be. Perhaps I've finally mastered it, now that it doesn't matter anymore, but it's here for you to enjoy, and I hope that you will.

1) Dinah/Thelonious Monk
2) When It's Sleepytime Down South/Terence Blanchard
3) The Beautiful One/Stephen Scott
4) Where/Maria Muldaur
5) The Prisoner/Herbie Hancock
6) Introduction/Charlie Haden's Quartet West
7) Always Say Goodbye/Charlie Haden's Quartet West
8) Nice Eyes/Charlie Haden's Quartet West
9) Step Lightly/Joe Henderson Big Band
10) Dance Cadaverous/Wayne Shorter
11) I Won't Cry Anymore/Billie Holiday
12) Silver Lining/Chet Baker
13) Dolphin Dance/Carol Robbins

To download, click here.

Not much information is available on-line regarding KJAZ, but in addition to Bob Parlocha, you can also hear the first and last voice on KJAZ, the great Jerry Dean who broadcasts a loose recreation of the station on 'The Spirit Of Jazz,' streaming on iTunes radio.

*Ironically, the dial position and frequency that KJAZ once occupied are now licensed to KNGY, 'Energy 92.7,' a station that plays dance music.

**Save, the talented and equally great, though much younger and quite attractive, Audrey Wells, who was the first woman ever to join the KJAZ air staff. Audrey eventually went on to become a successful Hollywood screenwriter and director, responsible for 'Under the Tuscan Sun' and others.

Frank Zappa Thought Folk Rock Was A Drag

In the early days of The Mothers of Invention when Frank Zappa was still hungry, he did something he probably wouldn't have considered later in his career after meeting with success; a blatant commercial product endorsement. The ad to the left was actually one of several to which Zappa lent his image for the Hagstrom Guitar Company. It was a bold move on the part of the manufacturer, not only in their choice of spokesperson, but also in their approach; the anti-ad campaign wherein one thing is stated, but another is implied. Despite its negative sales pitch, Zappa's underground status no doubt lent street credibility to their wares, and the text neatly summed up Zappa's unwavering disdain of the folk rock genre, hence the smaller tag line toward the bottom of the page reading, 'Freedom of Speech.' Note the way Frank held the guitar with only one finger, as though he were afraid to touch it for fear it may be somehow contaminated.

Zappa's opinions regarding folk rock certainly didn't deter the genre from growing in popularity however, as more and more groups, particularly those in L.A. mid to late 1960's, turned to electro/acoustic guitars for additional texture in their new hybrid material. The Byrds who are largely credited for giving birth to the genre were huge in their time (and at the time of this ad), and Roger McGuinn almost singularly made 12 string guitars a fashionable instrument of choice. Others followed in their footsteps too, as the deep-rooted acoustic folk scene collided head-on with the electric jangle of the British Invasion, creating a new, refreshing and well needed take on an old form. I might add as well, that the incursion from the British Isles came none too soon. Jazz and blues notwithstanding, the folk 'scare' of the 60's threatened to keep American pop music squarely in the realm of mediocrity if it had continued unabated, leaving us with a choice between the schmaltzy white bread pap of Steve Lawrence, Eydie Gorme, Mitch Miller and their ilk on one hand, or the fiddle and banjo caterwaul that nearly buried rock and roll under one too many hootenannies on the other. Imagine your life today! The Brits thankfully reminded Americans of the power and potential of rock as a creative expression, and we owe them eternally from the balcony of our minds to the basement of our hearts. God save the Queen!

Of course, folk rock has now become so much larger than the small corner it once occupied in pop music. Without pointing fingers, I'd have to agree with Zappa that some of it's early practitioner's bordered on MOR pop, but then again, many of the finest pop songs to emerge from the United States in the 1960's and 70's, came directly from the folk rock canon. This in turn spawned the English electric folk equivalent which followed, and from there, the lines rapidly began to blur, incorporating singer/songwriters, Celtic rock, folk punk, alt-country, Americana, and the twee neo-folk of today. To attempt a comprehensive overview of all the forms that folk rock has taken since it's inception would be a huge undertaking, and it's one that I am not prepared to tackle, nor would you likely be interested in hearing. But in this week's mix are 42 examples of the genre that are both new and old, British and American, acoustic and electric, all hopefully serving to disprove Zappa's one time contention that 'Folk Rock is a Drag.'

Part One

1) Sit Down, I Think I Love You/Buffalo Springfield
2) I'll Feel A Whole Lot Better/Byrds
3) Tell Me Why/Beau Brummels
4) Subterranean Homesick Blues/Bob Dylan
5) California Dreaming/Mamas & Papas
6) She Comes In Colors/Love
7) I'm Looking Through You/Beatles
8) Do You Believe In Magic?/Lovin' Spoonful
9) Outside Chance/Turtles
10) Everything But Time/Critters
11) Beside You/Van Morrison
12) Don't Make Promises/Tim Hardin
13) Live/Merry-Go-Round
14) Killing Me/Aztec Two-Step
15) Mrs. Robinson/Simon & Garfunkel
16) Darkness, Darkness/Youngbloods
17) They Who Have Nothing/Clear Light
18) Rollin' Home/Eric Andersen
19) Box Of Rain/Grateful Dead
20) This Flight Tonight/Joni Mitchell
21) Mississippi Summer/Oyster Band w/June Tabor
22) Reno, Nevada/Ian Matthews
23) Sally Free And Easy/Pentangle
24) Hazey Jane II/Nick Drake

Part Two

25) Tell Me Why/Neil Young
26) I Don't Know Where I Stand/Fairport Convention
27) Carry On/CSN&Y
28) Seed Of Memory/Terry Reid
29) On The Streets Of This Town/Steve Forbert
30) Wall Of Death/Richard & Linda Thompson
31) The Way I Feel/Fotheringay w/Sandy Denny
32) Talk About The Passion/R.E.M.
33) Backwards And Forwards/Aztec Camera
34) A Life Of Sundays/Waterboys
35) King Of California/Dave Alvin
36) Don't Need You/Alejandro Escovedo
37) Fearless/American Music Club
38) Out Of The Picture/Son Volt
39) Wichita/Jayhawks
40) Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying/Belle & Sebastian
41) Guess I'm Doing Fine/Beck
42) I Had This To Say/Clientele

To download Part One, click here. For Part Two, here.