Month: August 2008

Jazz guitar was forever split into two schools early in its development, each defined by a stylistic genius – the bop-anticipating, electric lines of Charlie Christian and the acoustic swing of Gypsy Django Reinhardt. If there is a third headmaster, even though he began as a Christian devotee, it would be Wes Montgomery.

If you’re familiar only with Montgomery’s orchestrated, crossover successes, like the Grammy-winning Goin’ Out Of My Head album or the hit single “Windy,” this is a great place to discover the guitarist smoking in a small combo setting.

Considering the level of commercial success he attained (in the jazz world at that time, comparable only to Stan Getz, Louis Armstrong, Dave Brubeck, and few others), there is scarce film documentation of Montgomery. This installment in the “Jazz Icons” DVD series bookends five songs from Belgian TV (previously released in low-budget form; remastered here in all its glory) with sessions taped during the same 1965 European tour, in Holland and England, previously unavailable on video.

The Dutch footage is a rare treat. The setting is intimate and casual, but production is top-drawer – with multiple camera angles, including an overhead crane. Wes, then 40, is teamed with a very capable local rhythm section, and we see him talking, laughing, and obviously having a blast. As Pat Metheny writes in his extensive liner notes, this is possibly “the most extensive footage of him talking and just hanging out that there is.”

Montgomery shows the group the Edward Redding ballad “The End Of A Love Affair,” discussing its harmony with pianist Pim Jacobs (putting to rest, Metheny notes, any notion that he was some sort of self-taught savant). After experimenting with various rhythms, the four settle on an uptempo approach, and soon Wes is flying. Likewise, in the improvised blues that begins the set, Wes establishes the groove in the first chorus, the band joins in on the second, and by the third, Wes is swinging his ass off.

The aforementioned Belgian broadcast has a decidedly different feel due to the American rhythm section of Harold Mabern (piano), Arthur Harper (bass), and Jimmy Lovelace (drums). They’re tighter, more adroit, and had also recently accompanied Montgomery at New York’s Half Note. The set – including John Coltrane’s “Impresions,” a bossa nova take on “Here’s That Rainy Day,” and Wes’s speedy “Jingles” – is polished, the musicianship first-rate, but it lacks some of the freedom of the looser Dutch jam.

As before, Montgomery is playing his single-pickup L-5 through a Standel amp, achieving a tone that’s warm but clear and defined – in soaring single-note passages and Montgomery’s trademark octave runs. As always, he plucks the Gibson with his thumb, and there are some great close-ups, illustrating the various techniques he employed.

Metheny refers to the last segment, taped in England, as “restrained” – which is generous. There seems to be no interaction between band members (pianist Stan Tracey rarely looks up from his sheet music), and the mood isn’t eased any by host Ronnie Scott talking about Montgomery, rather than to him. Not surprisingly, the best performances are the unaccompanied intro and outro of Wes playing “West Coast Blues” – this time with some revealing over-the-shoulder camera angles.

Sadly, Montgomery died of a heart attack only three years after these performances. As Carlos Santana says in the booklet notes, he possessed “an unbounded imagination and the ability to transcend thought into music that remains unequalled.”

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Nov ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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The Rosetta Stone of Dick Dale’s brand of surf guitar is 1962’s Surfer’s Choice, which, even though it was his first album, was largely a collection of the singles he’d already released on his own Deltone label. Having already reissued that classic on CD, Sundazed now issues the four albums that followed his signing to Capitol.

Throughout his career, Dale split his repertoire between surf instrumentals and R&B vocals, the latter never being his strongest suit. By far the most exciting cut on his first Capitol effort, 1963’s King Of The Surf Guitar, is his speed-picked arrangement of “Hava Nagila,” a nod to his Jewish heritage in the mold of his signature song, “Miserlou.”

The LP’s title track is a takeoff on Duane Eddy’s “(Dance With The) Guitar Man,” even utilizing the same singers, Darlene Love and the Blossoms, while “Break Time” is virtually identical to the King Curtis hit from the previous year, “Soul Twist.” Dale inserts “Apache” into a fierce version of “(Ghost) Riders In The Sky,” and his reverb-drenched tremolo picking on “Mexico” outclasses Bob Moore’s original hit.

The Capitol releases gave his group, the Del-Tones, billing, but King augmented band members with studio aces like drummer Hal Blaine and back-up guitarists Rene Hall, Glen Campbell, and Barney Kessel. By the time of his third LP for the label, Mr. Eliminator, the backing was entirely session men. In between, the studio machinery was showing its presence on Checkered Flag, in terms of a who’s who of sax legends (Plas Johnson, Jim Horn, and Steve Douglas) as well as hot-rod material penned by Gary Usher and Gary Paxton – which Dale doesn’t sound entirely comfortable with. Dale is at his best on “The Wedge” (previously titled “A Run For Life”), which might out-“Miserlou” “Miserlou.”

Eliminator does a better job of balancing the mediocre vocal material (or worse, like the laughable “Squirrel”) with more (and strong) instros, from the title track to another trip south of the border (“Taco Wagon”) to the “Malaguena”-inspired “The Victor.” However, each reissue includes two bonus tracks, and the single-only, Chuck Berry-esque “Wild Ideas” included here is one of Dale’s best.

On 1964’s Summer Surf, his last for Capitol, Dale changes the Coasters’ “Searchin’” into “Surfin’,” and the Little Milton hit “Feel So Bad” becomes “Feel So Good.” There’s more production, although Matt Marshall’s liner-note references to subsequent classics Pet Sounds and Sgt. Pepper’s are a bit much. Phil Spector is a more likely influence, as on the castanet-punctuated “Spanish Kiss,” with Dale switching to acoustic. Steve Douglas’s “Banzai Washout” (also recorded by the Catalinas, the Challengers, and others) is the album’s standout cut.

If Sundazed had compiled only the instrumentals from these four albums (and maybe not even all of them), it would amount to one hell of a CD. Instead, there’s a lot of filler to wade through, but the midline list price makes seeking out the gems worthwhile.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Dec ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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It’s great to hear a plain-old guitar record. They used to be all over the place, but these days not so much. And while I’ve always been a Duarte fan, here he seems to be saying, “Here you go. I’m playing my guitar. Hope you like it.” All songs have at least two solos, the sounds are incredible, and when soloing he can go from subtle to rip-your-head-off loud in a matter of seconds. His rhythm playing is funky and full of soul.
As you’d expect, there’s a lot of blues. “Amy Lee” has a menacing blues-march feel with biting, clever playing, especially in the long solo out. “Hard Mind” is shuffle heaven with Duarte’s wah left half on. He takes chorus after chorus and never runs out of ideas. By the second solo, he’s far enough outside that your ear needs to readjust. “Something Wicked” is a slow blues-guitar throwdown that builds to a stunning emotional blast. To show you how much ground Duarte covers, there’s even some nice octave playing that calls Wes more to mind than it does Jimi.

Speaking of, Jimi-style arpeggios dominate the ballad, “R U 4 Real?” The solos on that track and the rocker “Sun Prairie Blues” let Duarte truly show off his chops.

There are also a number of other cool songs, like the pop-rocker “I’ll Never Know”; loud and brassy, with a great hook and tons of guitar. Duarte’s salvo out brings a yell and laughter from those in the studio. The moment sums up this record perfectly. Anyone who likes blues-based rock guitar will appreciate this. You’ll yell and laugh with the sheer joy of the guitar playing.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Nov ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Few standard blues records by non-major artists offer any surprises. But Laurie Morvan adds a bit to the blues genre.

Her songs aren’t all that different, but the playing is unique enough to make you take notice. Solos and fills lift this effort above your standard blues fare; Morvan plays with plenty of imagination and doesn’t rely on licks or tricks heard a million times.

Blues-rock songs dominate; “Kickin’ Down Doors” has a great lyric and opens with a lick that grabs. “Where Are the Girls With Guitars” has an extremely clever lyric and playing to match the message. Morvan has a surprising and pleasing grasp of chromatic licks, even on a good ol’ shuffle like “My Baby Says,” where she throws in a unique solo. “One Little Thing” is a quiet minor-key tune that shows off her lyrical smarts and soulful playing. Lyrically, the same can be said for the piano ballad “Family Line,” while the instrumental “Wiggle Room” opens with wah and offers a relentless solo that shows the true strength of her chops.

There’s a lot of talk in guitar circles about how women just don’t seem to cut it when it comes to guitar playing. But Morvan’s work is fearless. Check it out, and you’ll see – the debate is over.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Sep ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Jack and Meg White get back to the guitar-and-drum thump their fans know and love, with the six-string up front, loud, and proud.

On their new album, Icky Thump, Jack’s guitar is strong from the start, with the title cut’s pounding rhythm and cool single-line notes defining the effort. And the lyric, like most things here, is clever if a bit diluted, and despite its odd title, gets a bit political. It’s a little amazing that a duo of guitar and drums can keep things this interesting, but from the old-fashioned pop-rock of “You Don’t Know What Love Is” to the acoustic/electric blues mix of “300 M.P.H Torrential Outpour Blues” to the hard rock of “Little Cream Soda” and the wonderful boogie of “Rag and Bone,” things never sound the same, and certainly never drag.

Jack certainly loads his signal chain with effects boxes, but to his credit, he uses them judiciously. “I’m Slowly Turning Into You” features an octave device that sets the song apart. And on the closer, “Effect and Cause” he proves that he can hang acoustically with any folk-rocker.

Vocally, White’s in fine voice here, parlaying an “Americanized” Robert Plant feel. And he has never been afraid to play with his lyrics; in fact, he appears to have as much fun singing his words as he does writing them, a trait lost on most rock singers today, who would rather pose than perform.

Many see the White Stripes as rock’s great hope. And while that remains to be seen, with efforts like this they certainly appear to be capable of keeping the light burning.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Oct. ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

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Even though Waters was undoubtedly the most important blues artist in Chess Records’ stable (indeed, the most influential bluesman of his generation), when you look back on his discography, most of his albums for the label imposed some sort of gimmick. Muddy the acoustic folkie, Muddy surrounded by brass, Muddy in London, Muddy in Woodstock. Some (like Fathers And Sons) worked better than others (the embarrassing Electric Mud), but, with the exception of a couple of fine live outings (one at Newport, one at Mr. Kelly’s in Chicago), he was seldom left alone to just be Muddy.

That, combined with multiple injuries suffered in a 1969 car wreck, had his career stalled before Johnny Winter stepped in and produced 1977’s Hard Again (on the guitarist’s Blue Sky label). Finally, somebody let Muddy be Muddy.

The 11 previously unreleased live tracks presented here come from a March ’77 tour in support of the album, a month before Waters turned 62. As in the studio, he’s surrounded by a combination of his own band, his former harp player, James Cotton, and Winter himself on guitar – with Pinetop Perkins on piano, Willie “Big Eyes” Smith on drums, Bob Margolin on guitar, and Cotton’s bassist, Charles Calmese. As much a party as a summit meeting, the set kicks off in fine style, with a rousing medley of Winter’s “Black Cat Bone” and “Dust My Broom,” the Robert Johnson song it was based on – with the three principals trading vocal turns.

Not a dull moment is to be found, as Muddy reprises his first hit, “Can’t Be Satisfied,” and shares vocals with Perkins on “Caledonia”; Winter serves up the Freddie King slow blues “Love Her With A Feeling” and J.B. Lenoir’s bopping “Mama, Talk To Your Daughter”; and Cotton fires up “Rocket 88” and mines the deepest of all shuffles on “How Long Can A Fool Go Wrong.”

Barely six years after this celebration closed – with (what else?) an all-hands-on-deck “Got My Mojo Workin’” – Muddy would be gone, at age 68. To say this release is welcome would be a huge understatement.

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This article originally appeared in VG’s Aug. ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.

It’s tough to write great songs and perform them well. But it’s another thing altogether to covergreat songwriters, make their songs your own, and do them well. And it’s an incredible feat when one band can do both.

The Holmes Brothers are bassist/vocalist Sherman Holmes, guitarist/pianist/vocalist Wendell Holmes, and drummer/vocalist Popsy Dixon, and on their latest album, State of Grace, they more than get by with a little help here from friends like Levon Helm, Rosanne Cash, Joan Osborne, and others. Larry Campbell, best know for serving in Bob Dylan’s band, supplies fine string work, as well.

The music is timeless, whether it’s a soulful “I Can’t Help It If I’m Still In Love With You,” powered by Rosanne Cash with husband John Leventhal on guitar, or a Southern soul take on “What’s So Funny About Peace, Love, and Understanding.” Here, songs written a generation apart fit together seamlessly with Holmes originals like the very funny “Gasoline Drawers” or the down-home blues of “Standing In the Need of Love.” And what’s in-between is, for the most part, astonishingly good, and in the case of the complete rework of Cheap Trick’s “I Want You To Want Me,” incredible. The rocker gets redone as a slow soul tune full of wanting and longing. The vocals are plaintive and pleading in a way you’d never expect this song to express.

The Holmes Brothers also turn in splendid covers of two Lyle Lovett favorites, “If I Had a Boat,” and the biting “God Will.” John Fogerty’s “Bad Moon Rising” gets a Cajun touch, a concept that connects the song with recent events in New Orleans.

Guitars throughout the record sound perfect. Whether it’s the slightly distorted tone from Wendell in “Smiling Face Hiding a Weeping Heart,” or Campbell’s rolling acoustic on “If I Had a Boat.”

The Holmes Brothers have released three fine records on Alligator, each one better than the last. This surely will top some top 10 lists from ’06.

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This article originally appeared in VG‘s Apr ’07 issue. All copyrights are by the author and Vintage Guitar magazine. Unauthorized replication or use is strictly prohibited.