DVD Review: Johnny Winter with Dr. John – Live in Sweden 1987

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2016

Images from the Internet

Johnny Winter with Dr. John: Live in Sweden 1987

Produced and directed by Leninart Wetterholm

Gazell Records AB / MVD Visual

59 Minutes, 1987 / 2016

www.gazell.net

www.mvdvisual.com

It will soon be two years since Johnny Winter shed his mortal coil and went to join the other blues rock guitarists that both preceded him, and others that left after. Boogie blues musician Dr. John (nee Mac Rebennack) is still with us at age 75, though he only appears on a bit more than half of this DVD, which is probably why they call this With, although the original program was And. But I jump ahead of myself.

There is a brief pre-show overdub interview with Winter talking about the effect of Blues in his life and what it means to play it, over footage of the band preparing to perform for a Swedish television broadcast. What is especially nice is that you know the sound quality is going to be good as it could be controlled better in a recording studio at that point, rather than an auditorium. There definitely is a graininess to the visual, probably originally recorded on PAL format and transferred to either direct to digital, or to VHS and then digital. That being said, this DVD looks better than most of the leaked videos I’ve seen so far, so I’m going to assume it was taken from the PAL master. Also, being television of then rather than now, the image is square to fit the old-style tubes, rather than widescreen, as is used nowadays.

When I saw Winter play live at Louie’s in Saskatoon in 2011, he sounded great if a bit detached, but looked pretty bad, being mostly blind by then, and pale in both skin and spirit (even beyond his albinism); yet even here in 1987, he looks skeletal at best, like you could knock him over with a deep breath. At the 3:45 mark, it even seems like an audience member appears to be miming that he seems like he’s near demise.

Everything is stripped down on this show, from Winter’s weight to the first part of the show being his band made up as just a trio, with Jon Paris (still looking like his Link Ray/Robert Gordon rockabilly phase) on bass and harmonica, and Tom Compton on drums, with Dr. John jumping in towards the middle.

The show starts off strong, with the Winter trio belting out a bluesy version of the zydeco classic “Sound the Bell.” The band has obviously been playing this number a while because they seem quite at ease with it, yet never letting its proverbial throat go throughout. Johnny sways around the stage like he’s caught in a breeze, just shredding his custom black headless Lazer guitar, which he uses for all the songs albeit one.

Lee Baker Jr.’s “Don’t Take Advantage of Me” is pure blues rock, starting with a growl and a strong rhythm pulse. Northern Blues, but definitely with a southern twist, they add some solid rock into the mix towards the end of the song. Switching to his 1963 Gibson Firebird, he swings into a slide version of J.B. Lenoir’s [d. 1967] Son House-meets-Nawleans-style acoustic-gone-electric slow burn boogie Blues of “Mojo Boogie.”

Of course, this song is a perfect way to set up the introduction of Dr. John’s version of the boogie that made him so popular among the Creole set. A few rattling tinkles on the keys, with Winter back on his Lazer, and they break into a Dr. John original, the cheatin’ number, “You Lie Too Much.” The boogie here – er – lies with the piano, though Winter does get his riffs in. Even with the mixing some of styles, they fit like two gloves with fingers intertwined. John does take the lead on the vocals for these numbers, with Winter and Paris doing back-up. For their second song, they equally share Muddy Waters’ upbeat “Sugar Sweet,” alternating verses and licks.

Together yet, they break into the slow burner “Love, Life and Money” (originally recorded by Little Willie John), again share duties by alternating the song, split down the middle, growl for growl.

There needs to be some kind of rave up after a soul pulling number like that, so to rev it up for the finale they cover “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” I’ve never seen a Johnny Winter set without at least one Rolling Stones cover, and this is one of his strongest choices. I always wondered if Keef was a bit jealous of Winter’s agility on the fretboard. John and Johnny both sing on the chorus and it’s a not always a pretty blending, but they play it so well, with such gutsy enthusiasm, it’s easily forgivable. Winter prowls the stage especially aggressively on this number (when I saw him, he was chair-bound, which I am assuming he found frustrating, leading to said detachment to the moment), and takes command both vocally and on the solos. That does not surprise, however, as this is one of his tried-and-true numbers over the decades. That’s not to say that Dr. John just sits still, as he adds some really nice fill to the sound.

The real smile-inducer and wow-factor was when Winter played the chords on Paris’ bass while plucking his own guitar, and at the same time Paris played the chords on Winter’s guitar and the plucked the notes on his own bass, as Winter stood behind him with their arms intertwined.

CD version

They go out on this number, which is perfect for a wanting-more moment for the very blond(e) and white audience. What the small crowd here doesn’t get – but we do – is one more in the extras section, which is a live clip from 1972 of Winter and his band playing a clip of Robert Wilkins’s “Prodigal Son.” It sounds great, but looks like it was filmed in 16mm. Still, it’s pleasing to see Winter looking healthy, as well as in better voice for its 2:08 length. It seems to be a promo for his 1970 Johnny Winter And album.

This Swedish show is also released as a CD now, though the extra song is not included. Still worth it.

Band:

Johnny Winter: vox/guitar

Tom Compton: drums
Jon Paris: bass

Song List:
Sound the Bell
Don’t Take Advantage of Me 

Mojo Boogie 

You Lie Too Much

Sugar Sweet 

Love, Life and Money 

Jumpin’ Jack Flash 

Bonus:

Prodigal Son 

DVD Review: Johnny Winter: Live from Japan; John Lee Hooker: Cook with the Hook Live in 1974

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2012
Images from the Internet

John Lee Hooker – Cook with the Hook: Live in 1974
Directed by Bob Boyd
MVD Visual,
45 minutes, 1974 / 2012
MVDvisual.com

Mississippi-Delta Blues musician John Lee Hooker (d. 2001) was one of the bigger influences in the blues rock movement of the ‘60s, a definite link between, say, Robert Johnson and Eric Clapton. His driving rhythms and vocal intensity was different than many of the other blues players of the time, who were closer to early rock’n’roll than Sgt. Pepper’s period rock. Hooker’s improvisational fierceness and hypnotic repetitions made him the forefront of what would become the Yardbirds (all three incarnations), Cream, and Led Zeppelin, to name a few.

There are a number of items on the checklist that makes this document so important, both directly and indirectly to Hooker. Public access television was just becoming a glimmer on the horizon when this was shot on July 6, 1974, during the Down in the Dumps music festival in Gardner, Massachusetts. Its faded black and white image (most with a white line going through it, possibly from the playback heads scratching the video as it went through an early tape player (reel-to-reel is my guess, as it was pre-VHS) is reminiscent of early kinescope (look it up). But despite the washed-out jeans look, the sound is solid, if a little on the tinny side (ah, technology and its Faustian bargains…).

Though nearly a decade before the advent of MTV-style quick cuts that would revolutionize the way we view film editing, the line producer here jumps between the three cameras quickly (sometimes too much so) between Hooker from the mostly long-haired and shaggy audience. Way ahead of its time in both video usage and use of the fader bars. I wonder if any of the rest of the festival’s music will resurface. Fortunately, Hooker’s has now, and that is just fine.

Backed by the Coast to Coast Blues Band (who would do so for 30 years), Hooker sits front and center (much like Johnny Winter does now), showing some rock chops with the likes of the great “Boom Boom” and “Sweet, Sweet Thing.” There’s also some solid Delta blues, of course, with the likes of “It Serves You Right to Suffer” and “Whiskey and Women.” For the last number of his set, listed as “Boogie,” Hooker stands up and roams the stage a bit. The band plays the same riff over and over while Hooker improvs for over 16 minutes. Honestly, I would rather he would have played some set numbers, because it is just a bit too much of a ramble for that long a period.

After this number, Hooker leaves the stage and a very enthusiastic emcee brings him back, where he actually continues the same number (listed as “Medley” for some reason, rather than “Reprise”) for another five minutes.

At the end of the set, the unseen announcer excitedly shouts out, “A man in his fifties! Imagine that! …And he’s doing rock’n’roll!” I heard this in a kind of bemusement as I realize that Johnny Winter, a version of the Who, and even the Zombies are still out there touring into their 60s and 70s. As the camera quickly pans the hippie-ish / stoner-looking audience, it was, indeed, hard to imagine someone of his generation could still give the guitar a hard lickin’. To put it in perspective, when he died at age 83, he was just about to tour Europe.

This DVD comes with an informative sheet with liner notes written by Massachusetts rock and cable television historian Joe Viglione that is worth checking out, as well.

Set List:
It Serves You Right to Suffer (Hooker)
Sweet, Sweet Thing
Boom Boom
Whiskey & Women
Boogie
Encore:
Medley

Johnny Winter: Live from Japan
Directed by Kiyoshi Inasawa
MVD Visual
90 min., 2012
Johnnywinter.com
MVDvisual.com

I had the incredible fortune to be able to see this tour in Saskatoon last fall, when this same back-up band played nearly the exact set at Louie’s, a club on the University of Saskatchewan campus on October 19, 2011 (reviewed HERE).

While it was a thrilling and amazing night, it was near the end of a very long tour for the troupe, and it was obvious they were tired (and rightfully so). What is nice about this DVD is that it was filmed at the Zepp Tokyo Music Hall on April 15 of the same year, early on in the circuit, in a country that had never seen him perform before. Needless to say, the energy level was higher, the voices were stronger, the music fresher, and all the better for the viewer of this release.

Johnny’s beautiful headless Lazer guitar strikes fire as he sings the blues with a heart that has seen a lot of heartache, and a voice that matches the gravel of the road he’s traveled. Whether covering his own songs, blues classics, or the occasional rocker -mostly at the end of the show, as he’s wont to do and has done since the ‘70s - he seems at home in the rhythms.

The band backing him are certainly up to the task as they prove time and time again, keeping up with the master, who graciously not only co-occupies the stage, but shares it with his brethren, giving them ample opportunity to shine on their own many times. These aren’t some youngsters but seasoned veterans who have traveled with other frontline blues musicians before.

Winter is bent and hobbled, walking in a wracked gait from the side of the stage to center – always shown in long shots or blocked by fans – where he sits for most of the set, and lets his fingers do the pacing. For the last two songs (which is the encore), he brings out his old and battered guitar and uses a slide to keep these blues tunes Delta-fied.

If you’re a fan of versions of the blues, be it rock, Chicago, Texas, or Southern style, well, odds are you are probably on your way by now to get this, if you do not have it already. Winter is a fine example of the product of a lifetime of dedication to a spiritual sound.

The DVD comes with sumptuous booklet with many full color pix and excellent liner notes by Lance Perdue.

Band
Johnny Winter: Vocals/lead guitar
Paul Nelson: Guitar
Scott Spray: Bass
Vito Liuzzi: Drums

Set List:
Intro
Hideaway (Freddie King)
She Likes to Boogie Real Low (Johnny Winter)
Good Morning Little Schoolgirl (Sonny Boy Williamson)
Got My Mojo Working (Preston Foster)
Johnny B. Goode (the true king of rock’n’roll, Chuck Berry)
BlackJack (Ray Charles)
Tore Down (Freddie King)
Lone Wolf (Johnny Winters)
Don’t Take Advantage of Me (Lee Baker Jr.)
Bonie Maronie (Larry Williams)
It’s All Over Now (Bobby and Shirley Womack)
Dust My Broom (Robert Johnson)
Highway 61 (Bob Dylan)

I’m On the List

Text and image by © Robert Barry Francos

Did you hear about the poseur punk? He paid to get in.

That’s an old joke from the ‘70s. While I’ve paid for more shows over the years than have been on the guest list, I have also had the honor of having my name at the door quite a few times.

I don’t really remember the first time I made the list for my work on my fanzine (1977-88), but most likely it was either at CBGB (RIP) or Max’s Kansas City (RIP). However, making the list itself could have come earlier, in 1976, while I was Arts Editor of my college paper and had the opportunity to see a number of shows for free, such as Sparks and Mott at Avery Fischer Hall, or Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers at both CBGB and the Bottom Line (RIP).

Actually, there are different levels to the list. The primo is considered the backstage pass at a bigger show, which usually results in a laminated card that is either hung around the neck or clipped to your clothes. As I mostly review independent artists (I’m still proud to say I turned down a chance to interview Duran Duran during their heyday because, well, who cares), the odds of the pass being that sophisticated is unlikely. In fact, the only laminated pass I have ever received, as far as I can remember, was to see the revived New York Dolls play a private concert at the now defunct Tower Records on lower Broadway, in 2006. Admittedly, I had nothing to do with it really: my pal’s son, Ben Kugel, used his influence to wrangle a pass for himself plus one, which ended up being a very fortunate “Uncle Robert.” We even got to hang out a bit with the band after the show.

When going for a guest list at the level to which I am used to, there is no fancy memento, even for some of the relatively bigger names. The end result is usually my name handwritten on a sheet of paper at the front door, hopefully with a “+1” following it. Now, it is always a gamble that you’ll get down there, and either you were forgotten, the band isn’t there yet with the list, the management suppresses the list because it’s that much less money for them if you get in free, or you were lied to because it’s easier to say yes and then ignore it after than confront a requester. If this occurs (and it has happened to me a number of times) you’re standing there saying “I’m on [band name]’s list,” only to find them responding, “No, nothing here.” In fact, this is so common that when I went to see D.O.A. at Amigos in Saskatoon, I brought along a printout of the email from the record company, Sudden Death, saying that if there was any problems at the door, to have them “find Joey” [Keithley], the band’s frontman. Occasionally, the door person will believe you anyway and let you in, but that is exceptionally rare, even for the smaller venues.

And just what does one do in that situation? Do you say screw it and pay anyway, or do you say screw it and walk away? Well, for me, it depends on a formula based on the factors of who is playing, how much is the cover charge, and how much cash do I have in my pocket. Since I’ve been to Saskatoon, I’ve been pretty lucky, and every time I’ve been on the list, my name was there. But more on that in a sec.

Back in Brooklyn, when I learned about a club called the Punk Temple (RIP) in my own Bensonhurst neighborhood (held in a Synagogue basement) in 2002, I contacted the guys who ran the place via email and asked them to put me on the list in exchange for photos that I would give to them and the bands. The answer was solidly no, because there were people already taking pictures. Yeah, I thought, teenagers with little to no experience on cheap digi cameras (I still used film then). So, I went anyway, gave my $8, and handed in the pix in anyway. That was the last time I paid at the Temple.

I got there early for the Temple shows (something I still like to do) and started hanging out with the guys who ran the place, making myself known to them and the bands, many of whom invited me to other gigs elsewhere. And when the fans formed bands, they in turn asked me to come. Honestly, I don’t think I paid for a single show from 2002 until 2009. Somewhere towards the end of the Punk Temple heyday, around 2004, I was in the space waiting for the show to start. While the mean age was probably 19-20, I was in my mid-40s. Some pimple-faced smartass approached me and asked, “What are you doing here, you fuckin’ old man?” Unperturbed, I responded by asking to see his wrist. After some “Wha?” from him, he showed me his stamp. “See that stamp?” He affirmed in a “What about it?” I continued, “See the stamp on the hands of everyone here? See the stamps on the band setting up?” He was getting angry(ier) and wanted to know my point (though he stated it in different words). I held up my clean hand: “Do you see any stamp on mine? No? That’s because I can walk in and out of this place any time I want. Can you?” At that moment, members of two different bands came over to me. “Robert! So glad you could make it,” giving me that man hug/back pat. I looked over at the kid, and he could only shrug his shoulders and walk away.

Yes, I like being on the list. The show could be for $50 or 50¢, it doesn’t matter. It’s sort of like the old First Nations’ “coup” (a bloodless game of war where you won by touching the opponent). But for me, no matter how I joke about this, it’s not something to be taken lightly, ever. When I’m on the list, for whatever the price of the ticket, for me it’s a contract that I intend to honor. I have never thought, “I’m not in the mood for the show; I’ll just blow it off because I didn’t pay for the ticket.” No, it’s a sacred bond; a promise on my part.

I’m not a musician, though I’ve tried both the guitar and bass. I’m untalented musically since I cannot remember chord streams and I have absolutely no sense of rhythm when it comes to actually playing. However, I still want to give to the scene, so what I do is a write and I photograph, making the photos accessible to the bands. This is how I contribute. Whenever I have been put on a list, I have reciprocated through documenting the show through reviews and/or photographs (lately, mostly on this blog). The bands can then use my thoughts and images for their own publicity. See, when I don’t pay cash to see a show, I still give my time, my mind, and my art in exchange, so it remains two-sided.

Since being in Saskatoon, I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Johnny Winter, D.O.A., the Saskatoon Reggae and World Music Festival (including Jah Cutta), the Oral Fuentes Band, and Absofunkenlutely [AFL], while being on the entrance list. For the last three, it was pretty easy because I’m friendly with Oral, who is my neighbor, and through him met Randy Woods, leader of AFL; Oral also runs the Reggae Fest. Even with the personal connection, I have contributed solidly through photo and review.

With Winter and D.O.A., well, I asked their management or record company through emails. I had reviewed a bunch of Winter’s material previously, such as one DVD collection of his performances from the 1980s, and another of his shows in Germany from 1979. The management was uncertain about letting me in, I could tell, but after I published the review, they were quite happy and informed me they would let me know when any of their other artists hit town. For D.O.A., well, I’m sure Joey knows about my fanzine from the ‘70s-‘80s, which may have given me some extra credibility, and I’m hoping they liked the review and photos that are two blogs back from this one (see the list on the right).

Most of the time when I ask, especially with larger touring acts such Simon & Garfunkel or Roger Daltry who were to play in town (both cancelled), odds are I won’t hear anything back but the tumbleweeds, but it never hurts to ask. As S&G may have said, this is my blog for the asking, if you will.

That being said, do I consider myself a freebie whore? No, because part of the deal on my part is that I will be honest. If there is some act I see and don’t like, I was say so. I don’t whitewash just for a name at the door. When I agree to see a show, my end of the bargain includes my true opinion. I have had bands mad at me for saying they sounded out of tune, or were boring. Without honesty, there is no credibility. I am not merely a human press release, so it is a gamble for the band because of my sense to truthfulness, but it’s also one for me because the show may be, well, crap. Fortunately, most of the time, I have not been disappointed, and have had a blast.

So, you acts out there who are either in town or on tour coming this way, let me know, and if I say yes, I will be there, with camera and notepad in hand. But please, don’t forget to put me on the list (plus one).

Concert Review: Johnny Winter, October 19, 2011, at Louis', in Saskatoon

Text and live photos © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2011
Poster from the Internet
Johnnywinter.com

Despite being the pub on the campus of the University of Saskatchewan, Louis' (pronounced Louie’s) is quite sizable, holding well over 200, and has had a long series of distinguished guests perform there. On October 19, 2011, it was Johnny Winter and his band.

Now, I hate to be late for the opening act, because I’ve seen some amazing shows in my life. Due to an employment situation, however, I couldn’t get there until after Vancouver native David Gogo had already begun. Another solid Blues act, the 20 minutes or so that I did manage to catch were some amazing Delta smolders and shouters, some played on a beautiful 1930 resonator guitar, the other an acoustic from 1915, if I remembered the dates correctly. The five songs I heard were crisp, to say the least, and the banter between songs consisted of the history of the resonator (and its function, of course), along with some corny material (something like, “Don’t be a name dropper, Al Pacino once told me…”) and a pointer towards the merch table. For his conclusion, he covered Winter’s “Dallas.” It seemed appropriate that night. As for his Blues playing, it was sublime.

Yes, Winter’s life tale is long told and easy to find: Texas bred with brother Edgar, grew up with Blues as a force, found rock’n’roll and became a rock guitar god with the likes of British “brothers” Clapton and Page, fell into addiction during the hedonistic late ‘60s, came out the other side in the ‘70s to reclaim the Blues as his own.

Here it is in the third decade after recovery, and Johnny Winter is still going musically strong. With a new album under his belt, the all-covers Roots (megaforcerecords.com), he is assisted by the likes of Jimmy Vivino, Vince Gill, Susan Tedeschi, and, of course, Edgar. It was on the basis of promoting this CD that he started this tour last year, as it wings its way through its Canadian arm.

Johnny Winter’s band came out on stage first: Paul Nelson (guitar), Scott Spray (bass) and Vito Liuzzi (drums), all with terrific Blues rock heritage, including having all been the back-up band for Eric Sardinas. They could be a great power trio on their own, but why do that when you can open for one of the great living Blues men of the modern age?

With a huge Johnny Winter banner on the wall behind Liuzzi, front and center was a plain wooden seat and a mic before it, with a box on the side holding a water bottle. As the band was blowing a jam hard, the MC helped Winter onto the stage, leading him to the chair. He looked frail and bent, beyond his 67 years, but when he sat with his black headless Lazer guitar on his lap, his fingers just about flew.

Now, while I’m a fan of the Blues, I’m hardly an expert, so please excuse any errors, or better, let me know and I’ll correct it.

The first of his more than dozen numbers was Freddie King’s “Hideaway.” Johnny’s voice was in decent shape considering the breadth of the tour, with his signature growl having a bit of gravel. His eyes faced straight ahead, with little variance, due to vision issues (this was obvious by the way he reached for his bottle of water). With little fanfare by way of between-song banter, unlike Gogo’s enjoyable glibbery, Johnny started the next song as he did with many others, “This is ‘Sugar Coated Love’ [by Jay Miller].”

I was informed before I went in that photos were permitted only during the first three songs, and especially no flash. But this is the electronic age, where people sell their souls not to play excellent guitar at a mysterious intersection at midnight, but for ubiquitous cheap pocket and cell phone cameras. A large crowd was in front, all snapping – well, clicking – away, flash on. But not wanting to be the Ugly American and keep my word, somewhat, I did take photos – and honestly during more than for the three songs – but I only took two with flash. But my lesson was learned, as thanks to Johnny’s pale skin juxtaposed by his standard black clothing (and customary hat), the contrast made the closer picture of him unusable. I kept the one of the whole band, but for the others, stayed with the non-flash shots, which worked better in black and white.

As has been true since at least his 1979 appearance on the German television program Rockpalast (available at MVDaudio.com), Johnny mixes in some rock and roll with the Blues, though far less than he did in the 1960s. This was represented by an blazing cover of Chuck “the true king of rock and roll” Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode” (he does “Maybellene” on the CD) and Bobby and Shirley Woman’s “It’s All Over Now” (I’m sure most people there that night, myself included, consider it a Rolling Stones’ song). However, Jagger and Richard’s were represented by “Gimme Shelter,” though for many years, “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” had been a JW show regular.

The first song off this set from his new CD is “Got My Mojo Workin’,” by Preston Foster. One aspect to notice was just how many different styles of Blues was played during the show, from Chicago, Texas, Delta, and so on. There were slow burners like Ray Charles’s “Black Jack” to rave ups such as Larry Williams’s “Boney Maronie.” Isn’t it amazing how much diversity can evolve from the simple Blues progression of I-IV-V?

Along with all the covers, Johnny showcased his own material with “She Likes to Boogie Real Slow” and “Lone Wolf,” two classics that easily fit into the Blues cannon and surely will continue to be covered by other artists, keeping the oral Blues tradition alive.

The only break in singing (other than extended solos) for Winter was when drummer Vito Liuzzi admirably took over on Freddie King’s “Tore Down” in the middle of the set. The rest of the band definitely had their time to shine, though, with their own fiery lead licks here and there, along with Johnny’s two introductions of his back-up.

For the last song in the set, “It’s All Over Now,” Johnny left the chair and stood for the entire number, which was quite the showstopper. After it ended, the band left the stage to ringing applause and standing Os. This went on for a few minutes, when my friend asked, “think he’ll do an encore?” “Oh, yeah,” I responded, pointing out the roadie readjusting the chair and mic. Sure enough, the band returned, and this time Johnny was clutching his infamous 1964 Gibson Firebird V, which, like him, looked the wear of the years but sounded solid.

For the encore, they started with Robert Johnson’s “Dust My Broom,” the second song off the Roots CD. This was followed by a beautifully handling of Dylan’s “Highway 61 Revisited.” By this time, Winter’s voice was becoming increasingly raspy, and everyone knew it was time for the master to leave the stage for the night. Sure enough, as they exited the stage once again, the lights came on and the PA music started. Everyone started milling out, satiated for the night.

Post show note: At the end of the 90-minute-plus show, as Johnny was getting ready to be led off, a drunken fan who had stood in front the whole performance reached out to shake Johnny’s hand, as he had done with David Gogo, but Johnny moved like the guy wasn’t even there, as he left the stage with some assistance. I ran into the besotted fellow in the bathroom after, as he weaved by the urinal. Ignoring the “don’t talk in the bathroom” protocol (hell, I’m from NYFC), I said, “You know, he didn’t shake your hand because he couldn’t see it. Hope you didn’t take that personal.” Zipping up, he slurred, “Nah, man, it’s totally cool. Johnny’s the man.”

Across town, Selena Gomez was playing to a huge, sold out audience in an arena. But I was happy to have been in an intimate show with Winter because, yes, Johnny’s the man.

Set List:
1. Intro Jam
2. Hideaway (Freddie King)
3. Sugar Coated Love (Jay Miller)
4. She Likes To Boogie Real Low (Johnny Winter)
5. Good Morning Little Schoolgirl (Sonny Boy Williamson)
6. Got My Mojo Workin’ (Preston Foster)
7. Johnny B. Goode (Chuck Berry)
8. Black Jack (Ray Charles)
9. Tore Down (Freddie King)
10. Lone Wolf (Johnny Winter)
11. Don't Take Advantage of Me (Lee Baker Jr.)
12. Gimme Shelter (Mick Jagger and Keith Richards)
13. Boney Maronie (Larry Williams)
14. It’s All Over Now (Bobby and Shirley Womack)
Encore:
15. Dust My Broom (Robert Johnson)
16. Highway 61 Revisited (Bob Dylan)


Dedicated to JW, John Lappen, and Helen Francos on her 85 birthday (RIP)

Bonus Video: (same group as this tour)

DVD Review: Johnny Winter Live at Rockpalast

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2011
Images from the Internet



Johnny Winter Live at Rockpalast 1979
Directed by Unknown
MVD Visual, 1979 / 2011
90 minutes, USD $19.95
MVDvisual.com

This April 1979 oft-bootlegged show has finally been released on DVD, thanks to the good people at MVD Visual. Broadcast live on German television, it was filmed at Grugahalle, in Essen, Deutschland.

Previously to the show, and after having been raised in the swampy sounds of Delta blues in Texas, Johnny Winter made his name playing blues rock in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s. After a famous bout in rehab to get rid of an addiction, Winter basically used that fulcrum to find his way back to the blues, which expressed the internal frustration that was most likely raging side. He understood the blues and was feeling it strongly, so it seems apropos. As shown here, he tries to get away from rock’n’roll somewhat, but they keep pulling him back in.

For this concert, Winter is part of a power trio. On bass is afro’d Jon Paris, who has worked with the likes of Elvis (on Roots Revolution), Dylan, Robert Gordon, Jimmy Cliff and Peter Tosh (not to mention his own solo releases). He seems to be having a blast here, as he has a wide open smile almost throughout, and he gets to play both harmonica and, for two songs, lead guitar and vox. On drums – many, many drums, including a double floor bass set – is Bobby Caldwell, who has played in (or with) the likes of Captain Beyond, Armageddon, Rich Derringer, and (as has Paris) Johnny Winter during some of his rock period. He plays okay (not magnificently), sometimes in a slashing motion, but seems out of place for a blues show with his complex kit, spandex sleeveless red shirt, and red silk boxer shorts (aka, a rock drummer clothing cliché).

The song list of blues is pretty strong, including Freddie King’s “Hideaway,” Junior Wells’ “Messin’ With the Kid,” and Willie Brown’s “Mississippi Blues.” He sets (figuratively) fire to his Gibson Firebird as he floats around the stage, or plays sitting on a stool. Truthfully, he’s looking pretty frail, his wispy frame moving around the stage like a corn stalk blowing in a wind. His long, thin fingers snake over the neck with a passion, whatever it is he is playing. Actually, he looks like hell, his teeth gray and his albino skin looking more sallow than usual. And is it me, or is he a bit testy, as well? He seems to have a few words for Jon Paris here and there (both of whom ignore Caldwell until the very end), though Jon’s joy of what he is playing never seems to wan.

But then again, Winter is also self-deprecating in his brief comments between songs, as well as perhaps a bit condescending to his audience who want to rock. More than once, he comments to the audience that he knows they’re expecting rock’n’roll, but he’s going to play the blues, if it’s “okay” with them, while extolling the virtues of the genre.

Meanwhile, there are some songs he plays in the middle that border (or perhaps overlap) on rock, such as “Divine Duck” and the staple, “Suzie Q.” At this point, for some reason, Jon Paris takes over the guitar and vocals for some ole time rock and roll and rockabilly with Muddy Waters’ “I’m Ready,” which he starts with a solid Chuck Berry-sounding guitar riff, followed by Johnny Burnette’s “Rockabilly Boogie.” No wonder he played with Elvis. While he is riffing away decently, Winter is relegated to the bass, which he plays without much flaunting. However, there is one brief shining moment where both Paris and Winter seem to be enjoying playing each other’s instrument (now, now…).

As a partial digression here, the original program was two hours long rather than the 90 minutes here, and included a cover of Berry’s “Johnny Be Goode,” and a Caldwell drum solo with a soon-to-be-retired Patti Smith, of all people, on clarinet! I’ve read some reviews that complain that these two numbers could have (or should have) been substituted for the Paris-led ones. I admit I agree, even though I enjoyed the Paris performance. Heck, why wasn’t it all here?

After these ‘50s rock and roll throwbacks, Winter comes back to the lead with a unyielding and seamless blues medley of “Stones in My Passway” (Robert Johnson), “Leaving Blues” (Leadbelly), and “Rollin’ and Tumblin’” (Muddy Waters), which you can see he is totally enjoying as he sits on the stool and marinates in the sound, some of which is played with a slide on his pinkie.

The audience seems a bit bewildered by the blues stuff, albeit they seem to be getting pleasure from it. Paris comes over and says something to Winter, obviously to encourage / cajole him, and Winter unwillingly concedes (note: author Sean McDevitt stated that it is “best to think of this offering as a reward, not a concession”), saying “If you don’t dig quality, at least you’ll get off on volume. Here we go!”, and then breaks into the last song, the Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” which the audience eats up. I started to feel a bit uncomfortable actually, even though he played the shit out of it. The reason? Winter starts rocking – nay, mocking – the whole rock star on-stage image with the grimaces and false bravado he obviously isn’t feeling. In fact, at one point he changes the line from “Jumpin’ Jack Flash / It’s a gas” to “Jumpin’ Jack Flash / It’s a fuckin’ drag.” I do have to comment that he shows why he was considered such a strong rocker as he wails away at the guitar.

Considering when it took place, this concert was most likely taped in European PAL format, and then transferred and adapted to the North American NTSC system. The image is not bad, considering its age and the technology at the time, though when in the right light, there are thin horizontal lines that appear from time to time, but I didn’t find it much distracting. Perhaps I’m old enough to remember just how crappy some video was back then. The sound, however, is pretty crisp and in full stereo, making it enjoyable to give a listen. If the visual are off-putting to the viewer, this is also available in CD. For me, no matter how this is played, hearing Johnny sing and growl is a joy. His lateral “S” lisp works well with the style.

Johnny Winter is a delight to listen to, and for me, also to watch, as he wrings the neck of the guitar, twisting out sounds and bending the notes. The camera wisely focuses on him and often on his playing in long enough shots to actually see what he is doing (as opposed to much modern concert footage where, in MTV mode, the editing doesn’t allow the eye to rest on the fingerwork).

The blues is what Winter needed to be playing that night after a grueling period of his life, and while he had the opportunity to express it, it truly is a celebration of his talent and love of the blues.

Track Listing:
Hideaway
Messin’ With the Kid
Walking By Myself
Mississippi Blues
Divin’ Duck
Suzie Q
I’m Ready
Rockabilly Boogie
Medley
Jumpin’ Jack Flash

DVD Review: “Johnny Winter: Live Through the ‘80s”

Text © Robert Barry Francos/FFanzeen, 2010
Images from the Internet

Johnny Winter: Live Through the ‘80s
2010
114 minutes, USD $19.95
Johnnywinter.net
MVDvisual.com

When one thinks of effective white blues guitarists, mostly Brits seem to come to mind, like Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck. But Americans have their own share, such as the late Stevie Ray Vaughn, Mike Bloomfield, and Johnny Winter.

Johnny Winter is iconic. Texas bred, his long, straight white hair from albinism, tattoos from before they were passé, tall and lanky frame, and his headstockless Lazer guitar (which shows up early on in this collection), are all part and parcel of this artiste.

While he dabbled some in rock and roll, and even occasionally displays a tinge of country, such as on “Please Come Home for Christmas,” Winter is a blues man. He plays electric so he is often lumped into the Chicago school, but he actually plays both Northern and Delta picking style.

There are some quick interview bits here and there on this DVD, where he blithely discusses his love of the blues, but the core here is the music. Taken from a number of different sources from the five years 1983-1988, the songs are complete, even the longer ones where he gets into the groove and just gets his mojo working.

As the DVD starts, it’s Johnny and his ace bassist/harp player, Jon Paris - complete with ‘80s killer sideburns and ‘fro - who play off each other magnificently through all the songs (they played together from 1979 to 1989). In a few solos, Paris shows that his bass playing is strong, as is his harmonica, so he makes a fine foil for Winter.

In the first grouping of four songs from Massey Hall in Toronto (or Trono, as they pronounce it there), Bobby Torello plays drums. While he is an exceptional drummer, he is a bit out of place as he obviously is playing rock style, stepping all over the groove. After this show, Tom Compton joins the trio in his place. He is definitely better suited, and gets to show off some of his chops towards the end of the DVD.

The Massey Hall show is kind of visually fuzzy (from a videotape, as there are occasional short interviews edited in between a few songs), but the sound is sharp. As usual, most of the material is covers of older tunes, but he ends with a bluesy Bobby Womack song, “It’s All Over Now,” which the Rolling Stones also covered in ’64.

This brings us to the second set, which was filmed at the Roskide Festival in Denmark in front of a huge audience (reminiscent of all the “Aid” shows from the period). It opens with another Stones’ related song, “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” There is also adapted versions of Dylan’s “Highway 61” and Chuck Berry’s “Johnny B. Goode.” It’s here the Lazer shows up, as Winter spins and twirls. He’s shirtless after the second song, as he often is, showing off his skinny, pale, and hawk-like frame – and yet his Stetson never is removed, as will remain true through the shows. Interestingly, being Denmark, there are plenty of people in the audience that are as blond(e) as him, and with some exceptions, these shots show many people not really paying attention to the music at hand. The evidence of this is the end of the set, where something is seen hitting Winter on the chest. He unstraps his guitar, says bitingly into the mic, “I bring you music and you throw things. Great.” Then he storms off the stage. As Paris leaves, he says (and apparently sincerely), “Good night! Thank you!” I could just imagine the conversation between the two backstage: “Why would you say thank you?!?!” I found the whole walking out thing very amusing, in hindsight.

The next set is from a British telly show with a remote in-studio introduction by the great Dave Edmunds, but the music plays out at the Capitol Theater in Passaic, NJ. The two cuts are typical of his style, from the solid “Mad Dog” and then shifting to the slow burner, “When You’ve Got a Good Friend.”

The video production from the Casbah in Nashua, NH, looks like it was probably in-house: it shakes and zooms about too earnestly to be professional, but the sound remains clear. “Lights Out” is a raver, reminiscent of “Black Sox” in classic I-IV-V style. As I mentioned above, Charles Brown’s “Please Come Home for Christmas” is a blues number, but Winter does it Texas-style, with a country flavor.

In 1984, Winter signed to Alligator Records, a great blues label, and they released a music video for “Don’t Take Advantage of Me.” The song is wonderful in a Bonnie Raitt sort of production of the period, but the video is, well, just terrible. It’s sexist against both genders: it shows women being abused (including Nora Dunn, just before she was on SNL!), and men being mean, stupid and macho (there’s a redundancy for ya); and it ends with Winter “tattooing” women with identical Texas Rose tattoos that he has on his arm, in a symbol of ownership. Yuck. This is quickly followed with a brief EPK (electronic press kit) video of him sitting in a directors-style chair and talking about the blues, tattoos and drugs.

Then, back to the music. In a television studio setting in Bromma, Sweden, is an incredibly well mixed two-song set of “Sound the Bell” and “Mojo Boogie.” All the instruments are clear, and it’s one of my favorite moments on the entire DVD, as Winter prowls the stage, hovering over his Lazer like a predator bird.

The last two songs, shot on the Piazza Duomo in Pistoia, Italy, has the murkiest visual here (my guess is probably due to a transfer from PAL rather than too many generations), but probably shows off the trio at their finest, with two looooooong pieces, a version of “Early in the Morning” and the guitar grinding “Serious As a Heart Attack.” “Early” features major solos for both Paris and Compton, but the fretwork of Winter stands out the most.

Winter knows his stuff. He is precise, with fast hands, and keeps a melody and rhythm going without giving up any quality or direction. Usually long guitar solos bore the crap out of me (one of the many reasons I fell in love with the Ramones), but even in the extended songs, I never felt the desire to skip ahead.

There is a Johnny Winter: Live Through the ‘70s, which I have not seen, but it was the 1980s when Johnny Winter was at his prime, and this DVD is a great collection of those moments when he was simply on fire.

Oh, and just for the hell of it: Edgar.

From Massey Hall with the wrong drummer: