CD Review: Aaron Neville, My True Story

Highly recommended.

Aaron Neville is one of the all-time great soul singers, so any new CD by him is welcome news. This time, he's gone back to his roots, recording 13 vocal group classics from the '50s and early '60s. My True Story can be seen as a companion to his 2006 CD, Bring It on Home: The Soul Classics, which I also highly recommend. The songs on this CD are, on average, about ten years older. The more important difference is that he recorded this album with a vocal group headed by Eugene Pitt, former lead singer of the Jive Five and author of the title song. The other group members are veteran performers at oldies shows in the New York area. This is the genre in which Neville started his own career in the early '60s.

There's a lot of background information on this “Making of . . .” video from Blue Note Records, so I won't repeat it.

Here's another look at some of the songs on the CD in a promo for a PBS program that Aaron and the group made which was shown here in Pittsburgh—unfortunately, during one of their begathons. I should note, however, that neither Paul Simon nor Joan Osborne are on the CD. Elder brother Charles Neville, visible on this video, also does not play on the CD.

Aaron Neville has said that Clyde McPhatter was his role model when he started to sing.  That's evident on many of his recordings. This CD includes five Drifters' songs from all phases of their long and tangled career. There is “Money Honey” by the original Clyde McPhatter group, “Ruby Baby” from their middle period when they were trying out various McPhatter sound-alikes, and the medley “This Magic Moment”/“True Love” and “Under the Boardwalk,” from after their 1959 makeover when Ben E. King took the lead chair. The other songs were originally performed by groups such as the Clovers, the Hank Ballard and the Midnighters, and the Hollywood Flames (“Little Bitty Pretty One,” where they were billed as “Bobby Day and the Satellites”). There are two '60s songs by the Ronettes and Curtis Mayfield and the Impressions. There is one cut without the group—“Goodnight, My Love,” by Jesse Belvin. Finally, here's the full-length version of “Tears on My Pillow,” originally recorded by Little Anthony and the Imperials.

When reminiscing on the video, Aaron mentions the Moonglows, the Flamingos and the Spaniels. It would be great to hear his take on these Chicago-style groups. They are perfect for his falsetto vocals. But there are no songs by these groups on the CD. Another personal objection: The album misses a great opportunity to introduce listeners to some of the many great-but-obscure vocal group sides that I'm sure he knows about. The emphasis here is on recognizable titles. They do mention, however, that they laid down 23 tracks during the session. Since only 12 of them were used on this CD, does this mean a second volume may be in the works?

My criterion of whether it's worthwhile to remake a song is whether it improves on the original version. By that standard, my verdict is mixed. Neville's voice is better than some of the original vocalists. Although he uses some of his typical vocal mannerisms, his singing here is surprisingly restrained. On “Work With Me, Annie,” he is almost lost in the mix. The same restraint is shown by the musicians. You would never know that Keith Richards is the lead guitarist without the liner notes. There are no honking and screaming tenor sax solos; in fact, there is only one saxophone break on the whole CD (on “Ting-a-Ling”). They don't stretch out any of these songs either. Most are about the same length as the originals. The entire CD is only 39 minutes long.

In spite of these reservations which keep it from being a classic, this CD is probably the best news for fans of '50s R&B vocal groups in at least a decade. If you have any interest this genre, you should grab it right away. It's a fun CD that won't wear out its welcome.

Tracks:  Money Honey; My True Story; Ruby Baby; Gypsy Woman, Ting-a-Ling; Be My Baby; Little Bitty Pretty One; Tears on My Pillow; Under the Boardwalk; Work With Me, Annie; Medley: This Magic Moment/True Love; Goodnight, My Love.  (39 min.)

Personnel:  Aaron Neville, vocals; Eugene Pitt, Bobby Jay, Joel Katz, Earl Smith, Jr., David Johnson, background vocals (11 tracks); Lenny Pickett, tenor saxophone, flute (5 tracks); Keith Richards, Greg Leisz, guitars; Benmont Tench, keyboards (11 tracks); Art Neville, Hammond B-3 organ (1 track); Tony Scherr, bass; George G. Receli, drums.

The Soundies #4

This 1936 musical short is longer than a typical soundie. The Jimmie Lunceford Band was known for their tight ensemble playing and choreography. The two principal songs are their biggest hit, "Rhythm is Our Business," and "Nagasaki." The vocal on "Rhythm" is by Willie Smith, but I'm not sure who sings "Nagasaki." The two primary soloists are Joe Thomas, tenor saxophone, and (I think) Paul Webster, trumpet. Joe Thomas went on to have a second career as an R&B tenor sax man in the '50s. Also featured is an enthusiastic vocal by Myra Johnson and tap dancing by the Three Brown Jacks.

CD Review: Wayne Shorter, Without a Net

Recommended

Wayne Shorter is one of jazz's acknowledged masters as a tenor and soprano saxophone player and as a composer. His recordings with Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, the Miles Davis' second great Quintet, Weather Report, and several of his nine previous Blue Note albums belong in every jazz fan's collection. He is 79 and is obviously in terrific shape. Anything he does is worthy of our attention and respect. On the other hand:

• This is his fourth CD all or part of which features his current quartet of pianist Danilo Perez, bassist John Patitucci and drummer Brian Blade. I have liked each one slightly less.
  
  
• My three favorites on this CD are “Orbits,” “Plaza Real,” and “S. S. Golden Mean,” all remakes of songs he has previously recorded. (The latter is the same tune as “Adventures Aboard the Golden Mean,” from his Beyond the Sound Barrier CD.)

These observations could mean that it requires repeated listening for Shorter's music to be appreciated. But maybe not.

This is his first album in slightly over seven years. The songs were recorded live, although with one exception the dates and locations of the performances are not identified. Like Joe Lovano's Us Five, Shorter and his group are exploring “free” (relatively unstructured) jazz. Hence, the risk-taking metaphor in the title of the album. (Half the album's titles make direct or indirect reference to flying.) Of course, if you're up there without a net, you have to be very sure that everything is under control.

A lot of this music could be described as bombastic. Both Perez and Patitucci play their acoustic instruments in a very percussive style much of the time, and Blade frequently punctuates the music with loud explosions. Most importantly, several of Shorter's solos are climaxed by a series of exclamations. Since he plays the soprano sax most of the time, they could alternately be described as squeals, shrieks or screams. Five of the nine cuts had solos on which I thought he was overblowing. It's great that Shorter has this much energy, but I found the album difficult to listen to straight through. To be fair, however, the solos which I found to be most over the top were the very ones that received the most enthusiastic audience responses.

This CD contains only one new and beautiful melody of the type we typically associate with Shorter. The centerpiece of the CD is a 23-minute semi-classical composition, “Pegasus.” The melody is calmly and beautifully stated by a five-piece woodwind quintet, with Shorter sometimes joining them on soprano. But as the piece progresses, both the tempo and the volume increase, and there's a great deal of sturm und drang before they return to the opening theme.

There's a lot to like about this album. “A Starry Night” starts out as a series of instrumental sound effects suggested by the title, until things start building to another crescendo. The final two pieces, "Zero Gravity to the 10th Power" and "(The Notes) Unidentified Flying Objects," with composition credit given to the entire band, are prototypical examples of collective improvisation.

The only standard on the album, “Flying Down to Rio,” is a disappointment. The opening few choruses, while surprisingly slow, promise some relief from the general atmosphere of stress. But at almost 13 minutes, it ultimately turns out to be the most chaotic piece on the CD.

Wayne Shorter has earned the right to take these risks, and I fully expect to come to appreciate some of these performances more with time. Shorter fans will want to hear what he has to say. But if I were drawing up a list of great Shorter CDs, this one would not be near the top.

As part of the promotion for Without a Net, Blue Note Records released a six-part interview—total length, about an hour—of Wayne Shorter conducted by Joe Lovano. I found his stories about Miles Davis, Charlie Parker and other great jazz musicians to be fascinating. It's also interesting to listen to these two bright men attempting to talk about their music. The two of them are on a very similar journey. But it's not easy to talk about jazz. Here's Part 1. You can follow the links to the other five parts.

Tracks: Orbits; Starry Night; S. S. Golden Mean; Plaza Real; Myrrh; Pegasus; Flying Down to Rio; Zero Gravity to the 10^th Power; (The Notes) Unidentified Flying Objects. (77 min.)

Personnel: Wayne Shorter, soprano and tenor saxophones; Danilo Perez, piano; John Patitucci, bass; Brian Blade, drums; The Imani Winds, bassoon, clarinet, flute, French horn and oboe (1 cut).

CD Review: Raphael Wressnig and Alex Schultz, Soul Gift

Not recommended.

Raphael Wressnig is an Austrian Hammond B3 organist and his partner, Alex Schultz, is an American guitarist. They have a small band whose instrumentation and repetoire is reminiscent of Booker T. and the M. G.'s. This album, their second on the ZYX label, is a time capsule of '60s soul music. Three of the fourteen cuts feature vocals; the rest are instrumental. Three of those instrumentals are originals; the rest are covers. Two of the covers are of Booker T. tunes. Here's a promo for the CD.

The three vocals feature guest appearances by Deitra Farr and Tab Robinson. (Schultz is a regular member of Robinson's backup band.) Mr. Robinson's version of the Bessie Banks soul ballad “Go Now” is the highlight of the CD. Once again, he shows himself to be one of our most accomplished soul balladeers. (I couldn't find a free copy in the internet, but you might consider downloading it, while ignoring the rest of the CD.) Ms. Farr does Billy Preston's “All That I've Got,” and she and Robinson duet on Ashford and Simpson's “Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing,” originally recorded by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell. Neither of these improve on the original versions. Guitarist Kirk Fletcher and tenor sax man Gordon Beadle ("Sax Gordon") also make brief appearances.

A couple of the instrumentals reward repeated listening. Their version of Booker T. Jones and Steve Cropper's “Soul Dressing” establishes a nice groove. My personal favorite is Joe Zawinul's “Money in the Pocket,” which he recorded with Cannonball Adderley, and which includes solos by Gordon and trumpeter Eric Bloom.

On the other hand, their instrumental versions of “Wichita Lineman” and “A Change is Gonna Come” might double as sedatives. The rest, including their three originals, would make excellent background music while you're cleaning the house.

This 2012 CD was literally a soul gift. I received it as a premium for renewing my membership in the Blues Foundation. Presumably, someone had a few boxes of unsold CDs lying around.

Tracks:  All That I've Got; Soul Dressing; Double Bubble; Go Now; Pigmy; Tasty Dish; Cold Beer; Same Old Blues; Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing; Casio Slim; Jellybread; Wichita Lineman; Money in the Pocket; A Change is Gonna Come.  (60 min.)

Personnel:  Rafael Wressnig, Hammond B3 organ; Alex Schultz, guitar; Kirk Fletcher, guitar (1 track); Eric Bloom, trumpet (5 tracks); Gordon Beadle, saxophones (5 tracks); Silvio Berger, drums (9 tracks); Lukas Knofler, drums (5 tracks); Luis Ribeiro, percussion (2 tracks); Deitra Farr, vocals (2 tracks); Tad Robinson, vocals (2 tracks).

The Soundies #3

Here's an unusual color soundie—Sarah Vaughan singing “The Nearness of You.” It's from MCMLI.

   

Bobby Rogers (1940-2013)

Bobby Rogers, an original member of the Miracles, died on March 3 in Southfield, Michigan, of complications from diabetes. He was 73 and also suffered from dementia. He is remembered as the group's most talkative and friendly member.

By coincidence, he was born in the same hospital on the same day as the Miracles' lead singer, Smokey Robinson. They formed the group in 1955 while they were at Northern High School in Detroit. The group was originally called the Five Chimes, then the Matadors. When they began to record, the group consisted of Smokey Robinson, lead tenor; Bobby Rogers, tenor; Ronnie White, baritone; Pete Moore, bass; and Claudette Rogers, Bobby's cousin, whose voice soared above the others. Smokey married Claudette in 1958 and she retired in 1964.

As the story goes, they auditioned for Jackie Wilson's manager, Nat Tarnapol, who rejected them. Berry Gordy, then a songwriter for Wilson, was also present and became their manager. Their first recording, “Got a Job,” an answer to the Silhouettes' “Get a Job,” was released on End in 1958. They also recorded briefly for Chess, until Gordy started up his Motown family of labels. Their second recording for Tamla (named for Gordy's daughter) was “Shop Around,” which hit #1 on the R&B charts. They had 39 records that made the charts with Smokey Robinson, and another five after he left the group. Their other #1 songs were “You've Really Got a Hold on Me,” “I Second That Emotion,” and “The Tears of a Clown.” (“The Tracks of My Tears” only made it to #2.)

Here's some footage of the Miracles from 1964. Bobby Rogers is the tallest member.

Although Smokey Robinson sang almost all their leads, here is a rare instance in which Bobby Rogers was out front.

Although Smokey Robinson was their primary songwriter, Bobby Rogers was co-author of some of their songs, such as “Going to a Go-Go,” and he and Robinson co-wrote “The Way You Do the Things You Do” for the Temptations and “First I Look at the Purse” for the Contours.

As time passed, Smokey Robinson's voice came to dominate the Miracles' records and the others faded into the background. The name was changed to “Smokey Robinson and the Miracles” in 1967 and he left the group in 1973. Billy Griffin replaced him as lead singer of the Miracles, but they had only modest success. Bobby Rogers continued to perform with the group on the oldies circuit until recently.

When Smokey Robinson was elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1987, it was as a single artist, which seemed particularly unjust since he had many more hits with the Miracles than without. The situation was remedied in 2012 when the rest of the Miracles were inducted. Bobby Rogers was by that time too ill to attend.

You may find this clip mildly interesting. Bobby Rogers is interviewed by a man named Tom Meros in 2010. Unfortunately, Meros totally dominates the conversation. However, you do get a look at the exterior and interior of the original Motown studio.

CD Review: Jack McVea, Rarely Was Honkin' Sax So Much Fun (4 CD Set)

Highly recommended

Back in the '40s, there was no bright line between jazz and rhythm and blues. Both genres were classified as “race music.” You could pick up an Ivory Joe Hunter record on King and hear an alto sax solo by Johnny Hodges on the break. One musician who frequently recorded in both genres was tenor and alto sax man Jack McVea. He was well enough respected in the jazz community to play with Norman Granz's first Jazz at the Philharmonic band, yet over time, his career veered more and more toward R&B. For the first decade after World War II, he was an important figure on the Central Avenue night club scene in Los Angeles. Sadly, his contributions are not as well remembered as they should be.

McVea was born in 1914. His father was a bandleader (Satchel McVea's Howdy Entertainers), and he learned to play several instruments. He played alto with Lionel Hampton's first band from 1940-1943, and was present on their seminal recording of “Flying Home.” He recorded with Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker, and backed up important blues artists such as Wynonie Harris and T-Bone Walker.

The first three volumes of this four CD box set on the British JSP label cover McVea's entire recorded output under his own name from 1944 through 1948, on the Rhythm, Melodisc, Apollo, Black and White, and Exclusive labels—73 cuts in all. There are also two choice Apollo tracks by his primary vocalist Rabon Tarrant with a band headed by Lucky Thompson (but without McVea). Finally, the last CD is completely McVea-less, consisting of vocals by LA blues shouters George “The Blues Man” Vann (22 tracks) and Alton Redd (four tracks).

About two-thirds of McVea's records are vocals, the majority by his drummer and sidekick Rabon Tarrant (blues), Cappy Oliver and Sammy Yates (novelties), and Arthur Duncan (ballads). His early instrumentals are a mixture of swing, boogie woogie and bebop. Toward the end of the decade, he anticipates the honking and shouting style of '50s R&B.

McVea's fifteen minutes of fame came in 1946, when he and Tarrant recorded a version of vaudeville comedian Dusty Fletcher's routine, “Open the Door, Richard.” The record is little more than a drunk-sounding man banging on a door and shouting the title, alternating with a simple vocal chorus by the band. The dialogue is vague enough to permit speculation about what it “really means.” (One theory is that it alluded to Black demands for integration.) There were many cover versions by folks such as Count Basie and Louis Jordan, but McVea's original version went to #2 on the R&B charts. Unfortunately, McVea became involved in a lengthy copyright suit brought by Fletcher and eventually lost most of his royalties. After the success of “Richard,” he made several other attempts at comedy.

McVea's only other significant recordings were made for the Combo label in 1954-1957. They can be found on the Ace CD Fortissimo. Like many other R&B pioneers, he faded from view in the '50s, and was replaced by the younger performers that teenage consumers preferred. After a brief retirement from the music business, McVea receive a call in 1966 saying that Disneyland was looking for a clarinet player. Although he hadn't played the clarinet in years, he rehearsed a few tunes was hired as part of a three-man dixieland band that strolled around the park. He held that job for 25 years, and died of cancer in 2000 at the age of 86.

It's hard not to like Jack McVea. He was a great showman, and as the title of the set suggests, this is good time music. He kept his ear to the ground and integrated the latest musical trends into his act. Many of these songs are covers, including “Flying Home,” Benny Carter's “O-Kay For Baby,” and Louis Jordan songs like “Don't Let the Sun Catch You Crying” and “Inflation Blues.” One of his earlier jazz instrumentals is an excellent version of “Don't Blame Me” that is reminiscent of Coleman Hawkins' “Body and Soul.” Among his later rockers is a spirited tune, “Jack Frost,” that shows that he could make his tenor sax scream with the best of them, albeit with more restraint than some later tenor men.

His jump blues were competitive with those of contemporaries like Jordan, Tiny Bradshaw, Joe Liggins and Roy Milton. Another highlight is the original version of “Blues With a Feeling,” with vocal by Tarrant and McVea on alto. The song later become one of Little Walter's best known recordings (for which Chess mistakenly gave Walter composer credit).

The fourth CD is a bit of a let-down. The 22 tracks by Vann, backed by various small groups, are probably his entire output during the '40s. He starts out quite strongly, but his songs—mostly slow blues—eventually become repetitive. Finally, the Redd vocals are the first four of 15 sides I found in his discography. I didn't particularly want to hear more. Coincidentally, like Rabon Tarrant, Vann and Redd were both singing drummers.

The main reason I have not deemed this set an essential purchase is that there is quite a bit of filler on these four CDs. Some of Duncan's ballads are truly dismal. In spite of Tarrant's excellent singing, his slow blues are quite similar. McVea recorded a number of boogie woogie instrumentals fronted by pianists such as Bob Mosely, Lloyd Glenn and Tommy “The Crow” Kahn. These too are largely interchangeable. Finally, some of McVea and Tarrant's post-“Richard” comedy routines are not particularly funny. The best of McVea's recordings would have easily fit on two CDs, but this poses a dilemma for the set's compiler Neil Slaven. If he had dropped a third of these tracks, we would have always wondered what we were missing.