Showing posts with label Craig Shindler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Craig Shindler. Show all posts

Thursday, 7 February 2013

Today

Fittingly, it was just today that I realized that Linda Heck yesterday posted this track to her SoundCloud. I think it may well be my favourite song of hers, and I love this recording of it (I've also done my own, in typically primitive fashion). It comes from the "Lost Album," most of which was recorded at Easley - McCain in Memphis in 1991, with a few songs and overdubs added in 1992, before being somewhat hastily mixed and then, more or less, abandoned. I still hold out hope that it may eventually be released in some form. There are 21 songs on it, in all, and I like all of them, but some clearly stand out from others. I think this one is the real highlight, and I stand by my description from a previous post:

"One of the very best Linda Heck songs, and one of the most exciting to play live in my opinion. Written for the late Craig Shindler to wish him well at a low point in life, it has a positive message characteristic of its vintage:

'Pain will go, before you know,
Let it fall away,
Happiness is within you,
And it can be today'

It's an unusual and intriguing structure, which is probably why I have always liked it, because it feels like it's always moving to a new level. Starting in C and reverting there for the bridge, switching to B for the verses, with the odd A to F-sharp interlude. Outstanding performance from Doug here, and I like the rising harmony vocals in the instrumental section. Linda is sublime throughout."

I do recall that Doug Garrison (drums), who was a newcomer to all these songs, wasn't completely happy with his performance here, but we managed to convince him it was a keeper. He is such a consummate drummer that, even finding his way through the unusual section changes in this song, he brings a real drive and immediacy to the whole thing. I'm pretty sure it doesn't get any better than this. 


Sunday, 22 January 2012

Revealing the naked wisdom of the stars

Master drummer (and polymath electronic music maker/artist) Roy Berry has posted a very entertaining blog post on his early musical influences and output, which contains a couple of rare treasures from the early '90s. I alluded to both of these in this post two years ago, and it's great to find them now available for wider enjoyment: An All-Gourd Band and Bob's Lead Hyena.

Trey Harrison and an All-Gourd Band - "O My Calabash" - As I described in my earlier post, this was an impromptu freak-out featuring Mark Gooch on gourd flute and gourd saxophone (both of which he had made), the late and much-lamented Craig Shindler on a calabash electric bass (also by Gooch), Lee Swets on Fender bass, Roy Berry on drums, Trey Harrison on vocals, and me on a gourd fiddle made for me by Jack Adcock. The text is from a Polynesian poem in praise of the calabash as an essential navigation device on the open seas. ("Oh my calabash, revealing the naked wisdom of the stars/Oh my calabash, bringing me a brother's life-saving love!") This was released on Loverly, and on the flipside was a very credible straightforward rendition of "Polkadots & Moonbeams" with Trey on vocals, John McClure on some very tasty guitar, Doug Easley on bass, and Kurt Ruleman on drums.


Bob's Lead Hyena - "Jelly" - For my money, this was the most interesting band in Memphis in the early '90s, though sadly it was also among the shortest-lived. When Johnny Williams (bass) moved away, I filled in for a couple of rehearsals and one gig, as I recall, mainly (I think) because I knew all the material from a live recording I had of a set they had played on WEVL. "Jelly" was always my favorite, but I was also partial to a song called "Birthday Pony" ("Feeling like a pony at a birthday party/People payin' money just to ride me around."). Jim Duckworth had also left the band by this time, leaving a more stripped down sound, but also without the wild flights of epic guitar which characterized the first incarnation of the band. I always thought he and guitarist Mark Gooch were perfect foils for one another. I have no idea when this recording was made, but there is clearly no Duckworth here. Gooch's guitar phrasing is trippy and beautiful, as was always typical of his playing. As far as I can tell, the personnel here would be Gooch (guitar), Roy Berry (drums), Johnny Williams (bass) and Stoten Outlan (vocals), one of Memphis' most underrated front men.