Showing posts with label Black Crowes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Black Crowes. Show all posts

CD Review: Rich Robinson – Paper, Llama Blues

CD Review: Rich Robinson – Paper
Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Rating: B+

CD Review: Rich Robinson – Llama Blues
Eagle Rock Entertainment
All Access Rating: A-

Rich Robinson - Paper reissue 2016
Now that it appears the Black Crowes ' divorce is final, guitarist Rich Robinson can focus all of his attention on reviving a solo career that began in 2002, the year he started recording Paper.

Ultimately released two years later, Paper – the colorful cover art painted by Robinson himself – was an engaging, if occasionally messy, pastiche of different genres, effortlessly blending country, blues, soul, pop and psychedelia in a Southern-fried rock meal rich in diversity, skillful songwriting and tasty, tantalizing guitar licks to savor long after devouring them.

Kept in a New Jersey storage facility, along with his gear, the 2-inch master tapes for Paper were mangled by Hurricane Sandy's wrath, but there was a silver lining. With Robinson initiating a reissue campaign through Eagle Rock Entertainment for all of his solo outings – preparing the way for a new studio album due out this spring – came an opportunity to record new vocals, do some remastering and alter the sequencing for Paper. The results of those efforts, including three previously unreleased tracks from the 2004 sessions, are found on this reconfigured package due to drop Feb. 26, along with 2013's Llama Blues EP. New versions of Through a Crooked Sun and the Woodstock Sessions will see the light of day on April 15.

As for Paper, the warm sound of this expanded reissue is washed clean of impurities, allowing the full instrumentation, pristine vocals and the buffed chrome-plated sparkle of Robinson's electric guitar tone to shine through on the rollicking opener "Know Me," while giving a slightly serrated edge to the sunny, laid-back funk of "Enemy" and its strutting, tougher cousin "Stand Up." Even the Exile On Main Street murk of "Words Of The Chosen," an instrumental carried by gently rolling rhythms, has a certain clarity to it, while the crawl and stomp of "Yesterday I Saw You" and the smoldering distortion of "Places" assume pleasing and clearly defined shapes.

Falling from wistful '60s pop ("Walking By Myself") into a deep country blues hole ("Forgiven Song") as a mournful violin saws away, Paper somehow manages to avoid betraying its "south of Mason-Dixon line" heritage, that down-home twang rarely leaving Robinson's beguiling guitar work. More amorphous and less cohesive are the piano-based "Baby" and "Cause You're With Me," two drifting, worn-out tracks whose lovely parts never seem to coalesce into actual songs. The grand, Southern gothic vibe and undulating rhythms of "Answers," however, are more congruous and structured, making for a wholly realized offering that seems haunted by Townes Van Zandt.

Rich Robinson - Llama Blues
reissue 2016
Llama Blues was originally supposed to pair nicely with Through a Crooked Sun, its traditional blues feel echoing that album's "Fire Around." Limited to 1,000 CDs, Llama Blues became a cult favorite – can it really boast of being so if it's only three years old? – of Robinson's fans and it, too, is back on the market.

Robinson's distorted singing adds grit and honky-tonk attitude to an organic and thoroughly authentic – doing without any kind of slavish imitation – set of four songs that build small shrines to the ghosts of the Mississippi Delta. Wild harmonica blares through the Stones-y stutter of "By the Light of the Sunset Moon," while Robinson deftly massages subtle slide guitar into a stomping "Look Through My Window" and a slow burning, drawn-out "Broken Stick Crown." Stay for "Run Run," a brooding closer with a stripped-down aesthetic that's earthy and hard, but full of integrity.

While Paper is somewhat long and you wish it was the more charismatic Chris Robinson singing on these records rather than his somewhat subdued brother, both albums are well worth revisiting. Though not as immediately rewarding or as transcendent as the best stuff from the Crowes' catalog, their charms stick around for a while and make good company.
– Peter Lindblad

Shake your moneymaker: The death of the Black Crowes

Southern-rock champs calling it quits, what's their legacy?
By Peter Lindblad

The battling Robinson brothers are at it again, and this time, it seems their fussing and feuding has resulted in the death of The Black Crowes.

The Black Crowes have decided to
call it quits
On Friday, guitarist Rich Robinson issued a statement that reads, "I love my brother and respect his talent, but his present demand that I give up my equal share of the band and that our drummer for 28 years and original partner, Steve Gorman, relinquish 100 percent of his share, reducing him to a salaried employee, is not something I could agree to."

Ah, money, the root of all evil, and apparently, it is the cause of yet another Black Crowes breakup, although we've yet to hear Chris Robinson's side of things.

The writing was on the wall in October 2014. Back then, Gorman told Rolling Stone magazine, "I've said in the past, 'I know we'll work again' or 'there's no way we'll work again,' and I've been wrong. But right now, the likelihood of us doing anything again is as low as it's ever been. We could all see things differently in a year, but I'll be surprised if the Black Crowes do something again. Ever."

This coming from Gorman, who once quit the band near the end of 2001, only to return four years later.

Rich Robinson also said in that statement, "It is with great disappointment and regret that after having the privilege of writing and performing the music of the Black Crowes over the last 24 years, I find myself in the position of saying that the band has broken up." So, there you have it.

He also said, "I hold my time with the Black Crowes with the utmost respect and sincerest appreciation. It is a huge swath of my life's body of work. I couldn't be more proud of what we accomplished and deeply moved by the relationships people created and maintained with my music. That alone is the greatest honor of being a musician."

They certainly did nothing to stain their legacy on their final tour, at least if their show in Madison, Wis., on Sept. 22, 2013 was any indication. The Crowes were masterful that night, blazing through a well-chosen set list highlighted by a jaw-dropping supernova of a guitar duel between Rich Robinson and newcomer Jackie Green.

Is it too early to write a eulogy? Just what is the band's legacy? Are they the last great rock 'n' roll band?

There was a party going on in the '80s, as glam-metal was living fast and about to die young. The Black Crowes were formed in 1984, and they weren't invited. Not that they would have gone.

The Black Crowes - Shake Your
Moneymaker 2014
The Crowes were all about revivalism and swagger, bringing Stax-style soul, gospel, blues, classic rock and the Rolling Stones and the Faces back into fashion, and they looked the part – dark, even a little sinister, and certainly planning to do bad things to your daughters. And in 1990, they burst onto the scene with a debut album in Shake Your Moneymaker that turned music upside-down, just when grunge's crusty flannel-covered melancholy was on the verge of exploding.

An anomaly or an outlier in those early days, the Crowes' first smash hit was a rousing, raucous version of Otis Redding's "Hard to Handle." More singles followed, including the rolling boils "Jealous Again" and "Twice As Hard," and then hitting again with the soulful ballad "She Talks to Angels." They were shoving the '60s and bluesy rock 'n' roll right down the public's throat like it was castor oil or some detoxifying musical medicine that initiated a much-needed cleansing.

The Black Crowes - Southern Harmony
And Musical Companion
And just to prove they hadn't peaked too soon, the Black Crowes created a masterpiece with The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion, which shot straight up to No. 1 on its release and delved ever more deeply into their roots. The songwriting was even better, as assertive, spirited rockers "Remedy," "Sting Me" and "Hotel Illness" all paraded around like strutting peacocks and the sun-dappled "Thorn in My Pride" was mellow gold. Amorica was just as good, and for "Wiser Time" alone it should be considered a classic.

Personnel changes, sibling squabbles and some uneven, often uninspired records slowed their momentum, and even in their heyday, some critics accused them of a lack of authenticity and originality, of being a pale imitation of those that had come before them and too dogmatic. Somehow what they were doing didn't ring true. The Crowes just couldn't win. It's a Catch-22 that the Stones and The Beatles were all too familiar with. At the same time they were harangued for simply going over the same old, well-trod ground as their influences, others argued they weren't paying them the proper respect, that they could never be the genuine article and how dare they even try.

Luckily, the Crowes paid them no mind and just went about their business, writing great, memorable tracks that never really celebrated the South, but certainly captured its rebellious, quirky nature in song. More importantly, they gave new life to all those styles of music they were supposedly defiling and taught a master class on it to a new generation of rock 'n' roll fans that desperately needed the education. What they took from The Faces and The Rolling Stones was a vibe and a preternatural feel for what made that music special, and they went one step further, giving that old, decaying music a jolt of energy and passion.

Jimmy Page recognized it. So did the Grateful Dead. The Crowes opened for both, and with a charismatic rooster of a front man in Chris Robinson and players capable of soaring, transcendent performances, they were hard to top as a live entity, even if by the end they were more of a nostalgia act than anything, having last released an album in 2010. They've all got other projects now – Chris Robinson's Brotherhood, Steve Gorman's Trigger Hippy and Rich Robinson's always doing all sorts of stuff. This isn't the last you've heard from any of them, but if this is, indeed, it for the Black Crowes, it's a sad moment for rock 'n' roll.

CD Review: Tesla – Simplicity

CD Review: Tesla – Simplicity
Tesla Electric Company Recording
All Access Rating: A-

Tesla - Simplicity 2014
Don't tell Tesla that technology has made our lives better. What's so great about it anyway? It's only brought more complications and increased anxiety, not to mention inferior "MP3" digital recordings, embraced for their convenience but reviled for their sonic limitations. 

It seems Tesla, then, wasn't made for these times. Then again, their brand of honest and earthy songwriting, informed by the '70s classic rock of Montrose and Humble Pie, seemed almost completely out of touch with the glamorous, roaring '80s, and they sold records by the truckloads if memory serves.

Doggedly forging ahead in this social-media driven age, the Tesla of 2014 longs for Simplicity, which is not only the title of their latest album but also the word that best defines the straightforward, no-holds-barred sound of these scruffy, hard-rock mutts. Speaking the unvarnished truth of rock 'n' roll, with grit and big-hearted melodies, the well-crafted Simplicity is a heady distillation of all those raw elements that have made Tesla so beloved, as solid hooks and rugged grooves emerge from a rough mix of tastefully executed electric and acoustic guitar interplay to make the crunching, ballsy hard rock of "Ricochet" and "Break of Dawn." Just as spirited and even more timeless are rustic, emotionally spent power ballads, such as the soaring "So Divine ..." and the cathartic "Honestly," that, in Tesla's capable hands, manage to avoid the honey trap of being too saccharine or overly sentimental. The scratched-up, wildcat vocals of Jeff Keith make sure that never happens.

On Simplicity, though, Tesla speaks its mind in songs that have real teeth and jaws of steel. Taking on a world overrun by computer devices and their bastard offspring, "MP3" is the stomping opening track, and it's a gnarly, defiant Luddite's lament that wants its phonograph back and despite its sneering guitars, is slow to anger, pretty string arrangements lending their righteous argument heightened drama. In similar fashion, the creeping "Rise and Fall" gradually develops, its grungy churn warning of trouble ahead.

Above all, however, what really sparkles on Simplicity is "Cross My Heart," a charming, sun-dappled Southern rock ditty reminiscent of both The Faces and The Black Crowes, with golden acoustic shine and beautiful, rambling piano courtesy of a multi-instrumentalist marvel in guitarist Frank Hannon. Due out June 10, there's nothing fussy or pretentious about Simplicity. It is what the title says it is. What's in a name? When it comes to Tesla, it's everything.  
– Peter Lindblad

Vanilla Fudge in Rock Hall? Cactus, too?

Carmine Appice thinks his bands aren't getting a fair shake
By Peter Lindblad

Carmine Appice 2013
Like so many others, Carmine Appice has a bone to pick with Rock and Roll Hall of Fame voters. 

And he's not shy about doing a little politicking for his own bands.

In a recent interview, the drumming guru, who just started his own record label, Rocker Records, made the case for both Vanilla Fudge and Cactus.

"Why neither one of them are ever even mentioned in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, I’ll never know, especially Vanilla Fudge," said Appice. "We took out everybody with us. Frank Zappa opened up for us. I mean, Cactus had Bruce Springsteen open up for us. You know what I mean? It’s just crazy."

Having Zappa and Springsteen as support acts is pretty impressive all right, but does that alone qualify Vanilla Fudge and Cactus as Hall of Fame material? Appice takes another tack in his fairly good-natured, but still passionate, argument.

"And then they worry that Alice Cooper didn’t get in (that was before he actually got in, of course)," said Appice. "Okay, they’re right. Alice Cooper should be in there. Certainly the freaking rap artists shouldn’t be in there. If they throw those kinds of acts in there, they should call it the Music Hall of Fame, not the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. But then Jeff Beck is in there twice. I mean, the Yardbirds are in there. Why are the Yardbirds in there and Vanilla Fudge isn’t in there? The Yardbirds were never that big here. Is it because they spawned the three guitar players? Vanilla Fudge spawned me and Timmy (Bogert) (laughs)."

While there isn't a great push among rock fans to get Fudge or Cactus into the Rock Hall, like there is with other hard-rock heroes Deep Purple  or KISS, maybe they do merit strong consideration.

Mixing up a heavy psychedelic and soulful rock brew, Fudge re-imagined a host of popular songs in the late '60s, including The Supremes' hit "You Keep Me Hangin' On." Fudge's tripped-out version, with vocalist/keyboardist Mark Stein's baroque organ making the track a warped little aural funhouse, went all the way to No. 6 on the US Hot 100. That's also where their 1967 self-titled album landed on the US Top 200.

A weird sophomore effort, titled The Beat Goes On and filled with sound collages rather than actual songs, derailed Fudge, although the record went all the way to No. 17 on the charts. Fudge's third album, Renaissance, was more in line with their first album, and it did well, hitting No. 20. In all, the prolific Fudge, often cited as the missing link between psychedelia and heavy metal, put out five albums between 1966 and 1969, and in the process, probably helped paved the way for the stoner-metal movement.

Appice and Bogert, Fudge's bassist, left in 1970 to start Cactus, leaving Stein to forge onward with Fudge. Known as the "American Led Zeppelin," Cactus stuck around for only two years, but their brand of high-energy boogie-rock influenced a number of high-profile artists, including Van Halen, the Black Crowes, Montrose and the Black Keys. 

But it was Fudge that made Appice and Bogert, who later formed a trio with guitar god Jeff Beck called Beck, Bogert & Appice, household names. And it was Fudge that sparked a reaction by reworking Beatles' songs like "Eleanor Rigby" and "Ticket to Ride," not to mention Donovan's "Season of the Witch," with a thick, lugubrious kind of soul approach that was more glassy-eyed than blue-eyed.

They were not playing by anybody's rules.

"The Rascals were big at the time, and we sort of blew them away with what they were doing to the extreme," said Appice. "And it’s just like Led Zeppelin took everybody else who influenced them, from Hendrix to Vanilla Fudge to the Cream and everybody else, and took what they were doing – especially The Jeff Beck Group – to the extreme. And that’s why they were so big, but 'You Keep Me Hangin’ On,' it was such a shock, because nobody really did covers in those days. If they did, they were doing them the same way as the original. But the way we did it, we shocked so many people."

Count some of the biggest names in rock among those stunned by what Vanilla Fudge was doing.

"I remember reading things that Eric Clapton and George Harrison and Jimmy Page and Jeff Beck and all these people knew exactly where they were the first time they heard that, because it left such an impression on them," said Appice. "And why? Because it was a white group playing really heavy, but soulful – so heavy soul wasn’t really in yet. White, blue-eyed soul was cool. That was what The Rascals did and the Righteous Brothers did, but nobody did it heavy – with big amps and the big drums, the powerful drum sounds."

These days, both bands are back touring, and Appice's new label is just itching to put some Cactus and Vanilla Fudge product that Appice has just sitting around collecting dust. Visit www.rocker-records.com for more information.

And stay tuned for more from our interview with one of the greatest drummers in the history of rock 'n' roll.