Showing posts with label Austin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Austin. Show all posts

Monday, December 5, 2016

SIR DOUG SAHM: Rock’n’Roll Royalty [1988]

Text by Bruce “Mole” Mowat / FFanzeen, 1988
Introduction © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2016
Images from the Internet

This article was originally published in FFanzeen, issue #15, dated 1988, beginning on page 11. It was written by Canadian music historian Bruce Mowat, who used to go by the name Mole in those heady days. For decades his locus was Hamilton, Ontario, but has since moved to the northern Prairies. Back east, during the time of this interview, Mole had a radio show, and this is actually a transcript of the on-air interview they did.
                                                                    
As for Doug Sahm, another of his popular bands was the Texas Tornados. However, one of the serendipitous thing about this piece is that while Mole now lives in Alberta, one of my favorite Doug Sahm recordings was for an Alberta label called Stoney Plains Records in 1987, just outside Edmonton (or as Mole might call it, “down south”). It was called Return of the Formerly Brothers, which Sahm recorded with Amos Garrett and Gene Taylor. It’s solid boogie blues, unlike the more psychedelic country blues of his earlier and better known band, The Sir Douglas Quintet, who had a big hit in the 1960s with “She’s About a Mover.” Sahm died in November 1999 of heart failure, in his sleep.  – RBF, 2016

FFanzeen: With the revamped Sir Douglas Quintet, you’ve had a number of albums out. The most recent was Rio Medina, and it wound up on a lot of people’s favorite albums of’85, including mine.
Doug Sahm: That’s what I’ve heard.

FFanzeen: I’d just like to go over some of the tracks of Rio Medina. One thing that really knocked me out was the version of the Police hit, “Every Breath You Take,” which is not normally something I particularly like; it’s the old adage of “It’s the singer, not the song,” but maybe you could tell me how it was arranged and how it came to be, covering that particular number.
Doug: Well, to be real truthful, it’s gonna take me a while to think about this, because when I made one record and move on to another, it takes me a while to get back into the details of it. You see, I do a lot of different types of bands. At that time, I was using my horn section from San Antonio, and I always thought that was a great song. I was inspired by Otis Redding, of whom I’m a big fan, who used to take “Satisfaction” and some of the pop songs and turn them into Rhythm & Blues. And that’s where I sort of came up with that idea. We had been playing it on our gigs at that time and everybody seemed to really like it, so it kinda developed from the stage act, really.

FFanzeen: “Viking Girl,” I guess that’s a reference to your big following in Scandinavia, and those areas of the world that you’re still very popular in.
Doug: The album just prior to Rio Medina [Midnight Sun – BM, 1988] has a real great drummer, Doug Clifford – he used to be the drums on the Credence Clearwater Revival – and Bobby Black, steel [guitar] player. At that time – that would be about two or three years ago – these country singers really got popular in Sweden and our timin’ was real good. That song “Meet Me in Stockholm” came to me and it became one of the largest hits there. It’s kinda strange in one way, though, ‘cause they kinda refer to me as a country star. I don’t really look at myself as a country star. I do so many different types of music that I think in some ways some people like it and some people it confuses, but I just kinda go with what I feel. We’ve always had this legendary drawing power. We’re one of the few bands from the ‘80s that you could go see that would play the hits, with most of the original guys.

FFanzeen: It’s kinda funny you mentioning you’re going back to Austin, after you did that song, “Can’t Go Back to Austin.” It’s a bit of irony.
Doug: Well, you know, a lot of people don’t really realize what’s going on back there. I’m from San Antonio and I like it. I really appreciate it and it’s one of the most soulful towns in the world, but I don’t prefer to live there. I like Austin, but even now, we’re having this giant influx of people comin’ there and it’s kinda changing it for the old timers. The young people like it but some of us old, kinda “cosmic cowboys,” we look at it as a kinda invasion right now. It went from a little over 100,000 (people) to half a million, and there’s no end in sight [in 2016, the population was 931,830, according to Wikipedia – RBF, 2016]… You know, I was real saddened at the passing of Richard Manual [of The Band, d. 1986]. I thought he was a real good musician. It’s kinda a shame in a way that he had such a unique American band, and in some ways America turned its back on ‘em ‘cause they’re not fashionable at the moment. One of the parts about my country I really don’t like is that you go to Europe and they just go completely bananas over American music. And a lot of them guys that can’t even hardly work here in the States can go to Europe and it’s really amazing. Me and Augie (Meyers) have maintained a real following, which we’re glad to have, but right now I’m kinda workin’ on that; I’m workin’ on a record that’s gonna be unique in that you might not even know it’s me [The Texas Mavericks, Who Are These Masked Men?, 1988 – RBF, 2016]. It’s a theory I’ve been working on for a while. We’ll see what the commercial aspects of it will be. Right now I’m playin’ again with my buddy Alvin Crow. He’s a real big country artist down here. He plays a lot of rock and roll. We also have a baseball team together. We have this gig right now, we have a drummer who usta play with Lee Michaels called Frosty [“Do You Know What I Mean?” – BM, 1988; full name is Bartholomew Smith-Frost – RBF, 2016]. He’s probably the finest drummer. Now there’s a studio here so we’re workin’ on a new album. I’m really quite happy with it, it’s about half completed. We’re really doing a lot of this West Texas rock and roll. We have this guy named Johnny X who’s a premier West Texas guitar player like Buddy Holly and Bobby Fuller. We did a remake of “I Fought the Law” that I think’s real good. We’re blending that with some of my new pop-kinda songs. I think it’s gonna be a real interesting album. I’m not really sure when it’ll be released, but I keep trying to be always forever changing. I think it does keep you very youthful in playing rock and roll, ‘cause a lot of guys get jaded after a while.

FFanzeen: Speaking of Buddy Holly and Bobby Fuller, I don’t want to say how old you are, but I can imagine you can remember working the same circuit as those people. Did you ever meet any of them?
Doug: No, I never did. In fact, I’m very proud of my age; I’m 44. I’m definitely a graduate of Haight-Ashbury. I was a kid for rock and roll, growin’ up in San Anton [sic]; I think I was 13 or 14 when Little Richard came out. That just completely blew me away. And then in the ‘60s, we all just packed it in and went west to San Francisco and became Texan flower kids or somethin’. That part of my life was quite successful as far as hit records goes. And then in the ‘70s, we came back to Austin, which then the “cosmic cowboy” was kind of a cowboy with long hair; and now it’s the ‘80s, we’re kinda goin’ wild, and it’s interesting ‘cause I’m happy to have the years because a whole lot has already went down, and some of the guys who aren’t quite that age now, a lot of the good times has already been done. And as far as musicians, Buddy was in and out so quick. I never was around West Texas much, and he was raised in Lubbock. Most of my influences in the early days came from the Black Rhythm and Blues guys like Bobby Blue Bland [d. 2013] and T-Bone Walker [d. 1975]. Me and Johnny Winters [d. 2014] and Stevie Ray [Vaughn; d. 1990], all those guys, we all sorta grew up diggin’ T-Bone and those guys. I would say we all were probably more Black-influenced. Buddy represented what we called the White music, which was great, but it seemed like he really wasn’t appreciated until he was dead, you know? But there wasn’t much of a country feel in the ‘60s; I mean the British Invasion kinda blew that right off the map for a while.

FFanzeen: That’s why you were called Sir Doug, I believe [their manager, Huey Meaux (d. 2011), attempted to pass off the SDQ as a Brit act – BM, 1988]
Doug: Well, that was part of the truth at the time. I kinda credit Willie Nelson a lot – my good buddy – he came back after he went away and did the Outlaws thing, plus he did all those big picnics and started (country music) all comin’ back. So the country thing – the real country thing – dates back to when I was very young – say the early ‘60s when I was, like, 10. I was born in ’41, so I remember the time in ’51 and ’52; I remember it very well, meeting Hank Williams [d. 1953], Lefty Frizzell [d. 1975], you know, he was an ex-boxer and I actually saw him punch a guy one night. It was one of the highlights of my young life, I wanna tell you. He was a great guy. I mean, it’s really funny when you compare (them) to the perfect-clean/squeaky-clean rock stars of the ‘80s. No offense in any way, but these guys were really soul guys to me; they were really hard-livin’. What they’d sing is really what they were. It wasn’t an act. That’s why I was really glad to see Little Richard make a comeback. I think that was really great.

FFanzeen: Being around the San Antonio area, you’re one of the people who’s credited to help develop the so-called Tex-Mex sound. I just wanted to maybe talk about all the different pieces that goes together to make that sound, and what you feel your role in it was.
Doug: Our role was quite clearly defined, I think. We were the first nationally/worldwide successful band with that sound. “She’s About a Mover,” you know, with the backbeat of the organ, is pretty much like Chuco polkas – are you familiar with Flaco Jiménez?

FFanzeen: I’ve heard bits and pieces, but that kinda material – original material – is very hard to get.
Doug: It is. There are some out. He’s getting really popular in Europe now, too. He’s been playing the circuit in England quite a bit. You see, one thing about living down there, you have a very large Chicano population, which is almost non-existent up here. They got a real great station in San Antonio. They call it “jalapeño radio,” and it was run by a guy named Rubio Polkas. Rubio means “blond guy,” and he’s a buddy of mine. It’s a family-run station [KEDA, 1540 AM – RBF, 2016] owned by Mr. (Manuel) Davila [d. 1997] who used to play our records 25 years ago when I had local hits, before there was a Quintet. So, that’s why that music is real popular, and I just love it. I mean, it’s a real alternative to be able to turn all the way to the right of the dial and get this weird sounding music. But the Tex-Mex thing, some people confuse that. Some people have called themselves Tex-Mex, which I don’t know if they are or ain’t. I don’t consider myself a critic, I just kinda tell it how it is. We were the first to do it. And then in the last four-five years, Joe “King” Carrasco [FFanzeen interview HERE], who’s also a friend of mine, he – oh, how can I put it without being too blunt – he popularized it through the press. He had a great press man, who’s a real good buddy of mine, Joe Nick Patoski, who’s a writer. (Joe) had this thing of kinda bringing it out to the kids. In other words, there’s a big gap now of 20 years with the fans who go to his gigs. When he plays in Austin now, he draws this large college crowd that I just don’t relate to any more. I’m from the old faction. When I play, you get all the old people there from the Silk Creek days or the Armadillo, when that was happening. You see, you gotta remember, that’s non-existent and that scene is almost over. And lately, a few of the bands out of there have done real well: the Fabulous Thunderbirds. I’m really happy for them. They finally cracked it. And Stevie Ray. But that’s more in the Blues’ side. The San Antonio thing is flourishing, but one thing about it, see, the Tex-Mex thing is very regional. Now y’all would really like it here (in Canada). I think if you really heard it more, if bands would tour –

FFanzeen: Absolutely!
Doug: - But it’s such an expense to bring people up here.

FFanzeen: It’s a long way
Doug: The Tex-Mex thing progressed. I mean, you remember Sunny and the Sunglows [formed in 1959 – RBF, 2016] was a big one. And then Freddy Fender [d. 2006] was definitely a big influence. Freddy’s almost not doing anything anymore. It’s amazing this up and down type of thing he’s had with his career. But I don’t know, it’s a certain type of people I think too, y’know? I was raised and still spend a lot of time in the barrio in San Antonio. You don’t really need to go to Mexico. It’s almost like being in Mexico, y’know? Yeah, me and Augie and a few of the White guys who kinda kept it going, they call me a nickname: Gavacho. A gavacho is a White guy who was raised by the Black and mostly Chicago influence. We just always liked that music, y’know, ‘cause San Antonio’s always had a blend of everything, of country and rock. Even now, like, my son is totally heavy metal, which the young Chicano kids just eat alive. They just love Ozzy Osborne, and KISS and Judas Priest, and that’s what they’re into, like most of the kids. And they really don’t like the Conjunta type.

FFanzeen: It’s, like, their parents’ music.
Doug: Yeah, exactly. I put on a polka station, and it’s, “Oh, man, turn it off. I hate it. I wanna hear KISS.” I guess every part of the world has its regional (music), but overall the American music scene on the soul level has become very homogenized. To me, it’s nowhere near where it was in the ‘60s, when you had the Byrds and us and Sam the Sham. We all worked shows like that. It would be, like, Dylan, the Byrds, Sam the Sham, us, the Kinks, directly to Stoney Plain (distributors). Throughout the world they’re a little clique or association of kinda got like everything else.

FFanzeen: Do you ever keep in touch with anyone from that era?
Doug: Sam’s (the Sham; aka Domingo Samudio) not around anymore. I understand Ry Cooder dug him up for that Border album, or somethin’ like that. I understand he’s driving a fishing boat to the (oil) rigs out there in New Orleans. He’s not even playin.’ And I’m sure you’ve been reading about David Crosby.

FFanzeen: Yeah, everyone’s pretty well familiar with his situation.
Doug: He’s been having a few problems. I was a fan of the Byrds. We still do “Mr. Tambourine Man.” I thought they were a great band. Boy, that’s ‘bout all I can think of right now. A lot of them are still in California. A lot of the bands are out there and I see them when I go out there occasionally. I think some of them made the transition into the new world and some of them didn’t. I feel quite fortunate to be able to, you know, have had a real, incredibly long longevity. I mean, look around and see 20, 25 years – a quarter-century – has popped by. There’s even an album out in Belgium that’s made up of stuff I recorded like five or six years before the Quintet, even.

FFanzeen: So that early material is being released.
Doug: Yeah, one of them is. This is a really great album. It’s on a label called Perceval. It’s out of Belgium [Texas Road Runner: The Renner Sides 1961-1964, re-released on Moonshine Records in Belgium in 1985 – RBF, 2016]. We were quite lucky to have that success over there. I didn’t have to play the American ballgame of this corporation kinda thing. I’m kinda an old rebel in some ways. I really enjoy working with our Swedish record Company. They lease it directly through Stoney Plain. Throughout the world they’re a little clique or association of the last of the good, independent record companies. They’re into makin’ good music and putting out Johnny Copeland [d. 1997] records, instead of the high-dollar, million dollar rock and roll records. And if they weren’t doin’ that, I think the whole sound would disappear from the face of the earth.



Tuesday, December 18, 2012

DVD Review: The Jesus Lizard: Club

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet
 
The Jesus Lizard: Club
Directed by Matthew Robison
74 minutes, 2009 / 2011
MVDvisual.com

Let’s get the technical stuff outta the way first: this show was taped on the first stop of the Jesus Lizard’s reunion tour on Bastille Day, 2009, at the large and packed Exit/In Club, in Nashville, TN. The circuit was the first time the band had played together in a decade.  Now, let’s tawk.

If they had formed ten years earlier than 1987, they may have been labeled as No Wave, but because they got to share a split 7” with Nirvana, and recorded with Steve Albini in Chicago, they were more known as “Alternative.” Their sound is full of dissonant notes, repetition, and singer David Yow’s yowling (please tell me I’m not the first one to do that combination of words). After their song was included in the film cult film Clerks (1994), they signed briefly with Capitol Records.

The Jesus Lizard was known for being bellicose in the post-punk days, when bands were becoming more sedate after the rush of hardcore aggression. While they would never reach the levels of, say, GG Allin for assaulting their audience, they were still the real deal. One might compare them in intensity to, oh, possibly down-under’s Rose Tattoo, though their sounds are incredibly different.

The audience for this show is definitely up on JL, as they applaud as soon as the first notes of the song are played. Always good for when recording a show for posterity. For me, I never had the opportunity to see them live, so this gives a front row center view. Strangely, I don’t see much slamming, even with Yow’s occasional stagediving and crowd surfing (with his being chubby, sweaty and shirtless, I wouldn’t want to be the one hoisting him).  Bouncers keep the stage clear for anyone joining in on the diving.

Watching the band hammer away, it is clear to see that they know their chops, with the sounds coming out actually being quite complex, just being overlaid together to clashing and crashing.  As for the vocals, well Yow is musically rambunctious, occasionally reminding me of outsider singer the Legendary Stardust Cowboy. Don’t expect to make out too many of the lyrics. Or hardly any. And perhaps I shouldn’t mention his passing resemblance to Peter Tork…

The sound is quite crisp, and probably giving a better picture of the band’s true flavor. In fact, probably better than the Albini sessions where Yow was barely heard over the din. This puts him where he belongs, front and center.

If you were a fan of the band in their heyday, this will certainly not disappoint, and in fact, bring some relatively clarity to what you were imagining in your head about the group.

Track Listing
Puss
Seasick
Boilermaker
Gladiator
Destroy Before Reading
Mouthbreather
Blue Shot
Glamorous
Killer McHann
One Evening
Then Comes Dudley
Chrome
Nub
Blockbuster
Monkey Trick
7 vs. 8
Thumbscrews
Fly on the Wall
My Own Urine
Dancing Naked Ladies
Bloody Mary
Wheelchair Epidemic



VOD:

Friday, July 15, 2011

RANK & FILE: Not a Common Band

Text by Gary Pig Gold, 1983 
Brief intro by Robert Barry Francos, 2011 © FFanzeen 
 Images from the Internet 

 The closest I ever came to seeing Rank and File live was on a punk-related Rock Palace television program, sharing the bill with the likes of the Circle Jerks. They did two amazing songs, “Amanda Ruth” and “Hot Wind” (which I still have on VHS somewhere, and I that have attached below). My pal, Steve Adams, who colleged in Austin, used to go see the band during its heyday, and remains a fan.  

According to Wikipedia, after the break-up of R&F, Chip and Tony Kinman started the drum-machine-based synthpop band Blackbird, and Alejandro Escovedo joined with his brother Javier to form True Believers, before going solo. But recently Rank and File have reformed and toured, so who knows what’s next. PS, I love Gary’s Canadiana take on this, including calling mac’’n’ cheese “Kraft Dinner,” and uncertainty about the Mason-Dixon line: north of it was mostly Slave free, south of it had slavery, starting on the north Virginia state line, and running east to west; it was “dismantled” after the Civil War, though I’m guessing Gary must know that all these years later. 

 Note that despite my teasing, Gary is truly among my favorite rock writers, and has been since the days of his own fanzine, The Pig Paper (all issues of which can be found online here: https://www.rocksbackpages.com/Library/Writer/gary-pig-gold )… – RBF, 2011 .
“They sound like a cross between Buck Owens and the Ramones!” ”Watching Chip Kinman on stage is just like watching Gary Busey in The Buddy Holly Story.” “I have a funny feeling I’m witnessing the birth of something amazing.” Oh, my God!” On Saturday, April 2, 1983, Rank and File brought heir unique interpretation of The American Sound to the ratty Radio City club, deep within the bowels of the bed-washbasin-and-surfboard suburb of L.A. known as Anaheim, California (right down the road from Disneyland!). Quoted verbatim above are but four of the many observations I solicited from the preppies, punkies, and poseurs of all persuasions who stood spellbound as Rank and File recreated – in fact, incarnated – their groundbreaking Sundown LP atop the creaky Radio City stage. By the end of their 45-minute set, as the audience’s bewilderment had graduated form half-hearted slam-dancing to sub-Hee Haw-style hoots ‘n’ hollers, I couldn’t help but imagine that this must’ve been just like it would have been to see Elvis, Scotty and Bill playing around the Memphis trucker bars and parking lots 30 years ago! Hell – maybe we are witnessing The Birth of Something Amazing. ”We had to do a lot of growing up in order to get where we are today…” – Chip Kinman: guitar, vocals, harmonica and Buddy Busey imitations. ”…and play what we are today.” – Tony Kinman: vocals and authentic Bonanza headwear. ”…and I’m just the drummer.” – Slim Evans: just drums. ”I agree.” – Alejandro Escovedo: guitar, vocals, and grinning Spanish teen appeal. To make a sob story short, the Kinman brothers woke up one day near San Francisco during the Summer of Hate to find themselves, as one half of the infamous Dils, bonafide yet reluctant stars of the local blank generation. Much soul-searching ensued, which quickly lead to (as is vividly recounted on Sundown’s strongest cut, “I Went Walking”) the break-up of the Dils, a sabbatical to NYC’s St. Mark’s Place, a damnation of the their NeWave era in general, and ultimately, a pilgrimage to the Deep South to bask in the comparatively calming sounds and smells of the Great American Heartland. To this day, they call Austin, Texas “home.” Suddenly, Chip and Tony had traded in their trendy Sears Silvertones for authentic Fender gear, unearthed in Slim Evans one of the finest skinmen this side of D.J. Fontana, sent for their old Bay Area sidekick Alejandro to round out the quartet, and faster than you can say Get Rhythm!, this renegade combo were tearing up every truckstop, lounge, and even punk palace south of the Mason-Dixon line. (Which reminds me: where in hell is the Mason-Dixon line anyways?) Like the good ol’ boys they now were, they lived on Lone Star Beer and Kraft Dinner ‘til they had enough saved up to buy a station wagon with which to return west to the Promised Land where, during the fall of ’82, they blew a much-needed breath of fresh prairie air into the spandex’d El Lay music scene. Soon, our heroes found themselves back in ‘Frisco, laying down tracks for their first Slash Records album – an LP, which no less than Robert Hillburn, the West Coast’s very own Robert Christgau, proclaimed as “one of the strongest American debut records in a decade.” In fact, Mr. Hillburn found himself so totally enamored with Sundown that he had 10 copies send air express! to the Man in Black hisself, Johnny Cash, and then urged his VIP pals at Warner Bros. that they’d better pick up this platter, fast, if they knew what was good for ‘em. As a result, you can now find Rank and File proudly displayed in your local discery, right alongside the new Duran Duran… or George Jones… or Journey… And herein we arrive at the primary dilemma which could very well prevent Rank and File from claiming their rightful place atop several of Billboard’s Hot Hit charts: just what is Rank and File? Country? Pop? New Wave? Mockabilly? Well, I for one chose (e) All of the Above, coz in Sundown, I can hear at any given moment the twang of a Link Wray, the hooks of a Goffin-King, the lyrical wit of a Nick Lowe, and the harmonies of the brothers Louvin and Everly. Yet the blend is far from nostalgic or regurgitent: the Kinman’s compositions sound somehow Fresh, New, Current, and Vital. Just like that other great American rock phenomenon, Creedence Clearwater Revival sounded a dozen years ago, remember? But unlike the Hey!days of CCR, U.S. radio today just isn’t as ignorantly open to the fresh, new, current or vital – sure, “Do You Really Want to Hurt Me” went Top Ten, but only by initial packaging it in a blank sleeve, if y’know what I mean. Consequently, I often find myself awakening at 3 a.m. in a cold sweat, fearful that Rank and File’s potential as Divine Saviors of U.S. Music (sorry folks – I’m on my soapbox again) might be irreversibly nixed in the bud. Jesus Christ! These guys could fuckin’ revolutionize what we now blindly accept as C&W; they could be the Sex Pistols to the Kenny Rogers and Barbara Mandrells who now effortlessly and offensively rule the majority of this nation’s jukeboxes, airwaves, and music award ballots. Given half a chance, Sundown could shake things up one helluva lot more than an entire army of Dils ever could! Okay – I worry about such things. Maybe you do too. But does Tony Kinman? “Nah,” he informed me between rounds at the Radio City bar. “Every band me ‘n Chip have been in has, uh, Made It to some extent. But, you know – so what? The success part of things is really outta our hands for the most part. It’s managers and record companies who have to worry about that stuff. And the people out there really decide in the long run how big a band can be, and for how long.” But Holy Cow, Tony! Doesn’t it bug you guys that if it wasn’t for the Casey Kasems and the Kal Rudmans of the world, Rank and File could very well be that exclusive Next Big Thing we’ve all be waiting breathlessly for?!!, I scream out. Tony’s long, low, all-knowing laugh is my only reply. But it’s his alter-ego, Chip, who leaves me with this final, all-encompassing, concluding profundity before leaping back on stage for the second set: “Success? All I care about is what key we’re gonna do ‘White Lightening’ in tonight!” And There You Have It: the saga of a relatively new band busy brewing right under your very noses. Looking for musical kicks in the ‘Eighties? No need to shop overseas amongst the latest mascara’d synthepoppers: Buy American. Support Rank and File. And who know? We may never have to listen to the Gatlin Brothers Ever Again!