Artist: Black Joe Lewis & The HoneybearsTitle: Scandalous
Label: Lost Highway 15215
Released: March 15th, 2011

In a recent interview, Black Joe Lewis pointed out, “People call us a soul band but we’re more of a rock band. “The Honeybears lead guitarist, Zach Ernst further confirmed that by stating, “We always joke that we would do that kind of music, but we’re not good enough: our guitars are too loud, we’re too primitive on our instruments, and Joe is more of a shouter and a talking-blues guy than a smooth soul singer.”

Their realization of their collective self, exhibit the bands focus on their abilities and their respect and knowledge for music. That doesn’t mean that they do not incorporate the essence of soul into their blues charged rock though.

Scandalous opens with the track, “Livin’ In The Jungle,” with the Honeybear horns blasting like they were playing on the Stones Sticky Fingers sessions. The rhythm guitar chanks an early funk sound, but all and all, this is horn driven rock that isn’t square. “Black Snake” is reminiscent of “Resurrection Shuffle” by Ashton, Gardner & Dyke, but it would be a disservice to the Joe & the band to compare them to those brass rockers of the early 70s – like Chase or early Chicago – because the Honeybears can swing.

“Booty City’s” horn riff is lifted from Edwin Star’s “25 Miles.” Joe shouts through it with the meter of a James Brown delivery, but the guitar solo during the break is more likely to be found in a Funkadelic number.

Their bombastic cover of Ivory Joe Hunter’s “Since I Met You Baby” truly shows the bands distance from the real goods but also their relative proximity. They know they can’t do it justice by reading it note for note, but yet feel the need to share their love for the song, and this is the only way they can purvey that honestly.

So even with the references to Funkadelic, James Brown and Ivory Joe Hunter, I’d still claim them to be a rock band. When purchasing the vinyl edition of Scandalous, not only do you get a fine 180 gram pressing on clear vinyl, but you also get a bonus platter, with six cover versions, You get Robert Johnson’s classic, “Stop Breakin’ Down,” Freddie King’s “Funny Bone,” Hound Dog Taylor’s “Let’s Get Funky,” Junior Wells’ “Snatch It Back & Hold It,” plus a nine minute take on Howlin’ Wolf’s “I Asked For Water.” But then smack dab in the middle of these bonus cover versions, there’s The Dead Boys’ “What Love Is.” How about a side of punk rock with your slab of blues?

Joe & The ‘Bears resurrected the psychedelic gospel group, the Relatives to play on the track “You Must Be Lyin’.” It is a perfect fit since both bands bend the genres. Zach Ernst attacks the opening like Jimmy Page and the songs floods into a jam sounding like Led Zeppelin meets Sly & The Family Stone.

“Mustang Ranch” Is a talking blues romp in the vein of “Baby Please Don’t Go,” about the bands’ visit to the famous house of ill-repute to get their “ham glazed.” Yes, like all good rock and blues records, they sometimes venture into the “R” rated territory. But you can always get redemption and the Honeybears do by closing the album with “Jesus Took My Hand.” It’s probably not a song you’re going to hear and any of the Lutheran churches anytime soon, but you can hear its roots echoing through the Mississippi Hill Country.

Even with all these references to soul, funk and blues, I’d still agree with Joe that they are still more of a rock band than a soul band.

Songs I Turned Up

Artist: The Temptations
Title: Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)
LP: Sky’s The Limit
Released: 1971
Date Heard: April 10th and 11th

It was Sunday morning and I was listening to an encore airing of American Top 40 from 1971. The number one hit for the week was the Temptations’, “Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me).” Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” was slotted at number two. It was a nice double-shot of early 70’s soul. While driving home from work at about 1:00 am, I again heard the Tempts’ cut. That’s when I turned it up.

If you look at the Temptations chart history, “Imagination” stands out because it charted in a time where they were in the midst of the psychedelic-soul phase. 1968 saw “Cloud Nine” peak at number nine on the Billboard Top Ten. In 1969 both “Runaway Child Running Wild” and “I Can’t Get Next To You” were Top Ten hits with the latter hitting number one. “Psychedelic Shack” and “Ball of Confusion” peaked at number three and number seven, respectively in 1970. Then came “Just My imagination” in 1971 and “Papa Was A Rolling Stone” in 1972.

Apparently, they were getting some flak for abandoning their soul side for the harder edged psychedelic soul and producer Norman Whitfield responded by constructing this masterpiece. The result was a piece that transcended soul music into a grandiose pop hit.

Whitfield employed the Motown studio band, the Funk Brothers and the Detroit Symphony Orchestra to back the Temptations. It’s Eddie “Chank” Willis’ guitar that opens the track, followed by Bob Babbit’s bass. The string sections breezes in with the Tempts’ vocals riding upon them. And then to accent the arrangement, the Funk Brothers’ Jack Ashford patters the marimba, sounding like wooden wind chimes.

When Eddie Kendricks take the lead, drummer Andrew Smith has a steady beat on the rim of the drum, simulating the ticking of a clock, which is a reference point to this dream-state that Kendricks beautifully chirps through, will have an end. Kendricks meanwhile spins this tale off what a lucky guy he is to have such a beautiful woman. Soon they’ll marry, have a country home and have two or three kids. He reminds us between every verse in the chorus that it is just his imagination running away with him, but the arrangements are so intoxicating that you get pulled into his daydream.

Willis’ guitar is a little further down in the mix and when the song comes to the bridge a harp owns the riff and fellow Temptation, Paul Williams takes the lead for one line, “Every night on my knees I pray.” Kendricks continues with the lead at a steady meter, but when it comes to the line, “in reality, she doesn’t even know me” he slows down slightly, sending the song off-kilter for a moment, just enough to break the dreamlike state.

To fully appreciate this song, don’t listen to it on a compressed mp3 file. Find a remastered CD or an old piece of vinyl and listen to it on a nice stereo system. You will be amazed.

Songs I Turned Up

Artist: Velvet Underground
LP: Loaded
Title: Rock & Roll
Label: Cotillion
Released: 1970
Date heard: Tuesday, April 5th, 2011, around 10:00 am.

The song was introduced by Steven Van Zandt amongst a handful of failed predictions; man would never travel by flight, automobiles would never exceed four million in yearly production, and according to a survey from years gone by, it was concluded that people no longer wanted to listen to rock and roll.

I had my own “rock is dead” moment the other night, working the Black Joe Lewis show, carding people and realizing that seventy-five percent of the audience was somewhere in the thirty-five-to-fifty-five age bracket. Don’t kids these days know that rock and roll can save their lives?

I thought about the Who’s “Long Live Rock” while driving home that evening, thinking about the celebration of rock and roll, like the Raspberries, “Overnight Sensation,”  and the Byrds’ “So You Want To Be A Rock N’ Roll Star” as well as Patti Smith’s version. The following morning the Velvet Underground’s “Rock & Roll” played on the radio and I turned it up to ten.

I listened to its simplicity; its inverted 1-4-5 progression and the discovery of hearing rock and roll on the radio. It is simplicity that rock turns to when it re-invents itself; sixties garage, seventies punk, the borrowed beats of rap and hip-hop, the power chords of grunge, and a return to the low-fi aesthetics of the Velvet Underground’s third album.

The Velvets had a short-varied history. Their first LP the Velvet Underground & Nico, was shrouded in the 1960s NYC art scene, White Light/White Heat was an artistically successful experiment in organized noise while the self-titled third album was decidedly quiet. MGM / Verve dropped the band after little commercial success.

Loaded, their final studio album (not counting Doug Yule’s Squeeze) was released on Atlantic’s Cotillion subsidiary, with the title being a reference to it being loaded with hits. Lou Reed would leave the band in August of 1970 with the LP being released in the November of the same year. The “hits” were “Sweet Jane,” “Who Loves The Sun” and “Rock & Roll.” None of the songs charted in the Billboard Hot 100.

There’s a bit of irony in that. The fact that “Rock & Roll” is one of the greatest self-celebrating rock songs and was never a hit. But that’s also the beauty of it. When Lou Reed sings of Jenny (or Ginny) hearing rock and roll on the radio and it saving her life, he’s speaking to the outsiders that find rock as a refuge. In four minutes and forty-seven seconds Reed encapsulates the celebratory experience of separation and identity. He sings of the generation gap and the the difference in ideals. And as we age, some of us still carry that torch. We still have that need for separation and identity.

“And baby it was all right,
And it was all right,
Hey it was all right,
It was all right.”

Artist: ‘Papa’ John DeFrancesco
Title: A Philadelphia Story
Label: Savant 2112
Release Date: March 22, 2011

Devotees of soul jazz records made by the great B-3 players like “Groove” Holmes, Jimmy Smith, Dr. Lonnie Smith and Brother Jack McDuff, run out to your local record dealer and immediately grab this new disc by ‘Papa John’ DeFrancesco. It’s like steppin’ back to 1972.

DeFrancesco’s choice of covers are retro as well, opening the disc with a version of the Temptations’ “Papa Was a Rolling Stone,” and then sliding into a slinky version of Cream’s “Strange Brew,” basing it on the guitar riff Clapton lifted from Albert King.

The CD is mostly a trio of ‘Papa’ John on the B-3, along with John Jr. on guitar and Glenn Ferracone, his drummer for the last ten-plus years. Joe Fortunato add some tenor sax on Oscar Pettiford’s “Blues In Orbit” and Joey DeFrancesco, John’s other son, blows the trumpet on the opening track and on the Jimmy Webb classic ballad, “By The Time I Get To Phoenix.”

“Phoenix” is the only ballad on the CD, it mostly swings along never venturing into hard bop, relaying more on r&b grooves. The closing song, the album’s title track is an excursion into blues with both senior and junior DeFrancesco stretching out. This is also one of the two originals on the CD, the other being, “Dr. Mike,” an ode to ‘Papa’s’ personal physician.

John Jr.’s guitar work on the Isley Brothers’ “It’s Your Thing” ignites with chunky funk chops and then steps on wah-wah pedal. His versatility is apparent when he slips into a thumb-heavy version of “You Are My Sunshine,” slightly reminiscent of the great Wes Montgomery.

“This album is a Thang!” to quote Lou Donaldson.

Artist: The Babies
Title: The Babies
Label: Shrimper 160
Release Date: February 14, 2011

I purchased a couple of Babies singles in 2010.  Their “Meet Me In the City” b/w “Somebody Else” became one of my favorite singles of that year. The unaffected “Caroline” was a reminder that rock can be most successful at its simplest form. The same can be said for “Breakin’ The Law.” Its catchy-fuzzy noise pop with male/female harmonies brought to my mind the seminal underground band Black Tambourine. But there was more reckless joy in these songs.

I’d check back periodically at the Insound website to see if the Babies had more offerings and finally the full-length self-titled album appeared. The reason of the time between the singles and the full-length could be attributed to the band being busy with their other bands; Kevin Morby is in the Woods and Cassie Ramone in the Vivian Girls. I’m happy to admit that I was not privy to that knowledge prior to purchasing the band’s output. I approached it without pretense, not expecting the Vivian Girls or the Woods.

A commonality I discover in these noise bands is a general deadpan delivery of the melody surrounded by lavish layers of distorted music, sounding like organized white noise. The Babies move the guitar a little higher in the mix, bringing to mind the Velvet Underground at times (listen to “Caroline” and “Voice Like Thunder”). In addition, their voices are more generally more emotive. The opening track, “Run Me Over” sounds like something Nancy and Lee would do if they were 23 years old and recording in the new millennium.

The album contains both of the 2010 singles, but not the b-sides. It clocks in at about a half hour with two tracks lasting less than two minutes. I guess that supports the fact that the Woods and the Vivian Girls are rather busy, or is it punk sensibilities. I’ll say both.

Artist: Donnie Ray
Title: Who’s Rockin’ You?
Label: Ecko 1129
Released: January 11, 1011

My musical weak spot is Southern soul; a true combination of church, r&b and Southern culture. It’s more about the temptations of the secular world and their battles with the heart and mind. It’s down home philosophy combined with hip shakin’ seduction.

Give me the music from the studios of Stax or Muscle Shoals and it can bring me out of the deepest of doldrums or raise me to a higher plane of existing bliss.

Like most musical genres, they hold a place in time. Soul music had its reign in the latter half of the 60s. With change of culture, times and social mores, music evolves and the styles become outdated.

The thing about Southern soul is that it never truly died. There are still artists out there carrying the torch and keeping juke joints lit in pockets of the South. No, it doesn’t have the national attention, but it still is a viable entity where there are small labels in the South producing Southern soul.

The biggest change in the music from then to now is the lack of some of the crucial elements, like horns, a real drummer, or the budget to hire a string section. All these are easily replaced by synthesized sounds, which generally make the music suffer.

I easily dismiss many of these releases because of those factors, but Who’s Rockin’ You? transcends those shortcomings with great hooks, good songs and Donnie Ray’s performance.

The arrangements of these songs are so well done that these synth-tones sound more natural than ever. Take for example the ballad, “Lover’s Paradise.” The programmed drums would sound great with a conga player driving the sexy undertow of rhythm, but the layers of sound, with some synthed baritone horns and some fine programmed strings, and it sounds like an eighties r&b hit, drenched in the soul.

Maybe it’s that the synth beats have become so prevalent in music that it’s not bothering me as much anymore. I’m sure becoming more familiar with the sounds helps, but I still think it has more to do with the overall production of this project. But like I told one of my soul confidants upon hearing this disc, “If this guy had a real string section and a couple of horns, we’d all be peeing in our pants.”

Admittedly, the synth sounds tend to lead to a bit more of an uptown Philly Soul vibe, but the vocals and sentiments are all from the South. The opening track, “A Good Woman” Donnie sings the praises of his woman over a smooth post-disco rhythm. “She make me say uh, uh, uh, uh, uh,” hitting the “uhs” on the downbeat. The man is so I in love, he just can’t articulate the feeling.

The title track is a dance floor filler, a classic cheatin’ song about when you’re out rockin’ the dance floor somebody’s at home rockin’ your baby. Beware brother, beware! “I Almost Did It” is similar in sentiment.

“Too Many Mechanics” is in the blues tradition filled with double entendres. “I came by to give you a tune up / Just the other night / Woman I took my time / Made sure that I did it right / I even checked your oil / And I greased it up real good / I came by the next day / you had another man under your hood!”

And in the same style, is “Love Monkey.” You just don’t find songs in the mainstream like this anymore. Well, I got a Love Monkey on my back / It’s more addictive than powder, pills or crack / I’m no different than a dope fiend junkie / ‘Til I can get in the sack / I got a Love Monkey on my back.” It’s kind of corny but it’s so true to the genre.

The arrangements, production and Donnie’s crooning make this a great contemporary soul record with a nod to the past. Keep the fire burning, Donnie and all the people at Ecko Records in Memphis. The flame may be smoldering, but you keep fanning the fire.

Artist: Cake
Title: Showroom of Compassion
Label: Upbeat Records 99332
Released: January 11, 2011

And there’s Jimmy Fallon skating away on the cover of Rolling Stone. (January 20, 2011 RS1122) I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between that and the Springsteen on ice cover from February 5, 1981 (RS336). Maybe after thirty years, Rolling Stone thought no one was still paying attention or would have the brain cells to remember.

This lack of originality immediately brought upon my skepticism and tainted the contents of the magazine. When I came upon the review of the new Cake album. I saw they had given it three of five stars. I’ve never been a Cake fan. In their defense, I was basing my judgment on one song, “The Distance,” from their 1996 sophomore effort, Fashion Nugget. The song irritated me so that I never wanted to give them my time. My friends tried to advise me otherwise, but I never took heed. Nor was a three-star review going to change my mind.

A flip of the page and I saw a review of a Billy Joel re-issue, The Hits. It received four stars out of the possible five, thus making it superior to the Cake album by Rolling Stone standards.

Billy Joel, for me, was a great motivator. When I hear his music on the airwaves, you’ll never see me move any faster than when I jump to change the radio station. I was bombarded by The Stranger as a teen. I was tormented by requests for “Piano Man” as a hack dee jay in various bars during the 80s. “Uptown Girl” was an homage to the Four Seasons, another band I detest.

So how could this be? Something that sounded worse than a Billy Joel hits package? I couldn’t believe it. It was like Rolling Stone threw down the gauntlet. I bought Showroom of Compassion.

I had high hopes for this album. I wanted to prove Rolling Stone wrong. I wanted to like another band so I could buy their back catalog and discover more great music. But upon listening to the album, I found a more correct title to be, Showroom of Apathy.

On the first track, “Federal Funding,” John McCrea sings:

“You’ll receive the federal funding,
You can add another wing.
Take your colleagues out to dinner,
Pay your brother to come and sing.”

The song is obviously about political palm greasing and glad-handing. I do not have an issue with topical pop. McCrea’s monotone delivery bleats like a sheep as he stretches out the final note of the verse.

Is it a marvel in song construction, mimicking the sheep that we are in our willingness to follow our leaders? Could be. But it’s also fucking irritating!

It doesn’t get much better in the vocal melodies department. “Got to Move” has slight melodic resemblance to the The Mindbender’s “Groovy Kind of Love,” but it lacks any of the sweetness. McCrea takes the time to bitterly condemn someone he knows.

Side two opens with an instrumental that has the joy of a Scandinavian funeral procession. The number is called, “Teenage Pregnancy.” The song is then followed by the single, “Sick Of You;” one of the few up tempo tracks on the album, but not upbeat in sentiment.

“I’m sick of you / so sick of me / I don’t want to be with you.”

And then there’s the spoken interlude, a bit of a Cake trademark:

“Every camera / Every phone / All the music that you own / won’t change the fact / that you’re all alone.”

I don’t mind bitter songs, but the whole damn album has this feeling of loathing and apathy. There isn’t a break in the clouds. The track, “Easy to Crash” reconfirms it as McCrea sings, “We didn’t notice / We didn’t care / It would be easy to crash.”

“Moustache Man” has this sense of urgency with its pseudo-mariachi horn intro, driving like a spaghetti western. But as we approach the chorus, the message is, “I have wasted so much time.”

And it seems like a waste of time. If that’s what it’s all about, then Cake has created a masterpiece of dissipation of art. I find myself drained after listening to Showroom of Compassion. I feel empty. I can agree with there sentiments to a certain degree, but I find very little celebration in the album. If that’s their schtick, then they’ve succeeded. If not, Billy Joel sings in “The Stranger”,” “Don’t be afraid to try again / Everyone goes south every now and then.”

I could take the single, “Sick of You” outside the album as a little piece of nastiness, but I do not need a half hour of abhorrence and impassiveness. I should have just bought the single.

So is the Cake record worse than Billy Joel’s The Hits? Rolling Stone hit it right on with the exception that they should use a ten-star rating and keep the assigned grades for the two respective pieces.

Artist: Redondo Beat
Title: Meet Redondo Beat
Label: Dionysus 1233145
Released: January 11, 2011
Genre: Rock / Retro Rock

Redondo Beat is a German power-pop trio at their best. They were Sky Saxon’s backing band during his final European tour, so they have some grit. But this, their debut album for Dionysus Records, is more on the sweet side than the gritty. It may have fared better with some more grit.

“The Sweetest Sound,” opens the album with great promise. This track would fall between songs by the Knack, the Shoes, Dwight Twilley or the Records and you wouldn’t be able to tell it’s not thirty years old.

“The Spell I’m Under” is a catchy piece of pop rock, sounding like Shadow Morton got a hold of a Marshall Crenshaw rarity. But it begins to sound a little too processed when it switches gears into “My Baby (Knows How To Have A Good Time”). My sweet tooth is beginning to turn into a stomachache.

I’m now beginning to think I’ve heard these songs before. I’m hearing familiar riffs and I can’t concentrate on the song. Instead I’m racking my brain to figure out from where it was lifted.

This album has the elements I seek in power pop -catchy hooks, hand claps, background vocals, 60s sensibilities – but , I just can’t embrace it “I Can’t Wait Until Saturday Night” reminds me of “Shout” and “I’ll Never Let You Go” sounds like Conway Twitty’s “It’s Only Make Believe.” I like the two originals better.

The sole cover on the album is the Gladiola’s “Shoop Shoop.” I never cared for the original that much, nor does Redondo Beat do anything to it to make me warm up to it.

A four-song EP of this containing, “The Sweetest Sound, “Full Moon Child,” “The Spell I’m Under” and “My Baby (Knows How To Have A Good Time)” would’ve been all that we needed at this point. It would’ve kept me wanting more. Instead, I can wait two more years for another release.

I wouldn’t stay away from this release. I’d suggest downloading the four songs I mentioned and you have yourself a pretty damn good power-pop extended play.