An Appreciation: Hugh McCracken — A Fond Remembrance

By Devon Wendell

I was saddened when I learned that Hugh McCracken passed away of leukemia yesterday – March 28^th, 2013 – in New York City.

While working at Donald Fagen’s recording studio in New York in the 90s, I was constantly surrounded by the top session musicians of the world on a constant basis, especially during a Steely Dan recording project. Some of these titans included: Bernard “Pretty” Purdie, Chuck Rainey, Paul Griffin, The Brecker Brothers, and Hugh McCracken. I was absolutely terrified and intimidated by just about all of them with the exception of McCracken. He didn’t have the ultra-cool, funky, macho boastfulness that Purdie and some of the others had that could make a wannabe, geeky musician and engineer like myself feel like the most un-hip person in the world.

Hugh McCracken

McCracken was very approachable and generous with his musical abilities. I wanted to meet him the most because I was not only a budding guitarist, but also a blues fanatic and I knew that McCracken played the original guitar rhythm track on B.B. King’s “The Thrill Is Gone,” which is one of the most original and tasteful guitar parts ever recorded.

During down time, I’d be in the live room of the studio rapping cable or taking down microphones while McCracken would be laying down some sweet bluesy licks and chords, alone on a chair in the corner. He had a relaxed, pensive look on his face.

I was very young and played in an overly, flashy manner, not trusting in the economical power of the blues. Larry Carlton had donated a Gibson semi-hollobody guitar to the studio that I used to play all the time. On a few occasions, I’d talk to McCracken and show him some fast blues runs that I had learned. He’d look at me without judgment and say, “Well, try it this way,” while cutting everything I had shown him into a half or more. It made what I was playing sound sloppy and rushed. He knew exactly how to get right to the point with a few perfectly placed notes and with the right tone.

He taught me that you couldn’t always play like Godzilla behind a good singer or in a larger orchestral sound. All I thought about before then was the guitar solo and putting my stamp on everything too loud and too fast. Can you imagine if McCracken had tried to play like Buddy Guy or Hendrix on Steely Dan’s “Hey Nineteen?”

McCracken also changed my perception of playing the guitar with other artists in the studio. He made it work throughout his entire career with everyone from The Funatics in his youth in New Jersey, to Paul McCartney, Paul Simon, James Taylor, John Lennon, The Four Seasons, Van Morrison, Dr. John, Bob Dylan, Rahsaan Roland Kirk, Aretha Franklin, and countless others as a primarily New York based player.

So many guitarists today could learn from MCracken’s example of not tossing out your entire technique within the first four bars and really complimenting a song in a extremely imaginative and funky fashion. I wouldn’t be a session player without having heard McCracken’s timeless guitar playing. He will be deeply missed.

To read more posts, reviews and columns by Devon Wendell click HERE.

A Twist of Doc: The 2013 NAMM Convention Performance Highlights

 By Devon “Doc” Wendell

The 2013 NAMM (National Association Of Music Merchants) convention took place in Anaheim California between Thursday, January 24^th and Sunday, January 27^th. Despite throngs of inebriated metal heads roaming the Anaheim streets, instrument booths in the convention hall, and thousands of music merchants packed into the Anaheim Convention center like sardines, there were several stellar musical performances by some legendary names and innovators in the music industry, especially in the jazz and blues categories.

Here are some of 2013 NAMM’s many concert highlights:

On Friday night, Hammond Organ presented its two-plus hour “Hammond Soul Summit” Concert at The Anaheim Marriot, which featured some of the instrument’s greatest and most influential practitioners.

Dr. Lonnie Smith

Kicking off the show was the legendary jazz and funk Hammond B3 pioneer, Dr. Lonnie Smith performing with the incredible Chester Thompson (Tower Of Power and Santana) and Larry Goldings (Al Jarreau, Maceo Parker, John Mayer).  The three organ titans performed a loose and funky rendition of Smith’s classic “Keep Talkin’.”  Backed by a dynamic rhythm section (Jay Didimo on drums and Jack Maher on electric guitar), Smith and Thompson began swapping bluesy organ licks, trying to upstage one another, pushing the exchanges to ecstatic heights. The energy was electric and took the predominately rock loving NAMM audience back to school. Goldings soloed on an acoustic piano preset on his electric keyboard, playing jazz-fueled gospel chops while Thompson and Smith comped rhythm changes and walking organ bass lines behind him. Unfortunately, they were only allotted time to play one number.

Marty Grebb

Up next, Marty Grebb (Bonnie Raitt, Eric Clapton, Etta James) took the stage, backed by some of the greatest session players in the world (Reggie McBride on bass and Alvino Bennett on drums) with special guest, 12 year old blues guitar virtuoso, Ray Goren.  After a Jimmy Smith-esque blues shuffle showcasing the young Goren’s fiery electric blues guitar runs and Grebb’s down-home B3 style, another guest was introduced — Marty Grebb’s old musical partner from the Buckinghams,  Dennis Tuffano, on vocals.  Together, Tuffano and Grebb sang The Buckinghams’ 1967 hit “Mercy, Mercy, Mercy.”

Though it was hard for Tuffano to come close to topping Grebb’s soulful, Ray Charles- inspired vocals, he proved to still have the fire. This was the most nostalgic and exciting moment of the convention. Goren played some tasteful B.B. King style licks with the maturity of a musician 3 times his age, proving that he’s definitely someone to watch out for.

Larry Goldings

Larry Goldings returned to the stage with his trio (Jack Maher: guitar, Jay Didimo: drums), performing a brilliantly original arrangement of the Sonny Rollins classic “Doxy.” Golding’s imagination, fluidity, and inspiring skills incorporated many of Rollins’ saxophone lines in his organ solo and made it look easy.

Although many hard-rock acts dominated the main stage throughout the convention, Nick Smith And Friends performed a set of pure jazz at 4:00pm on Saturday.  Tonight Show keyboardist Smith was joined by an all-star band consisting of Marvin “Smitty” Smith: drums, Cory Jacobs: keyboard, Trevor Ware: Upright bass, James Manning: Electric bass, Antonio Julius: trumpet, Ray Fuller: guitar, and Kamasi Washington on tenor sax.

Nick Smith

Performing a set of hard-bop originals such as “Alternative Way,” “Slow But Surely” (a masterful tribute to Thelonious Monk), and “Tony Williams” (a salute to jazz drum legend Tony Williams), Nick Smith And Friends proved to be one of the most consistently brilliant jazz bands around today.  Amazingly (believe it or not), Nick Smith played with the syncopation and humor of Monk and virtuosic energy and fluidity of McCoy Tyner in what I can already predict will be among my top ten performances of 2013. Marvin “Smitty” Smith’s bombastic drumming pushed the entire band to play beyond their comfort zone, which is what true improvised jazz is all about. And Kamasi Washington’s playing brought to mind the adventurous spirit of a young Wayne Shorter or mid-60s Joe Henderson.

Even the band’s final tune, “Yeah” (which was a slight venture into funk/fusion) felt fresh and fun without the typical clichés of those genres. Nick Smith And Friends’ too short set was filled with an understanding and love of the history of hard-bop, modal jazz, with just a hint of fusion.  Later that evening Muriel Anderson’s “All Star Guitar Night” was presented by Yamaha guitars, and a benefit and silent auction for The Music For Life Alliance took place at The Anaheim Marriot’s Platinum Ballroom.

Though the big name acts like Stanley Jordan, Robben Ford (who received The Guitar Player Certified Legend award at the event) and host and performer Muriel Anderson were the big name draws of this “exclusive” event, it was some of the lesser known names who were the most interesting of the long showcase.

Mimi Fox

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Jazz guitarist Mimi Fox performed elegant and thoughtful versions of Wes Montgomery’s “Four By Six” and Chic Corea’s “Five Hundred Miles High,” using open harmonics and sweeping arpeggios, all while playing lead and rhythm simultaneously. It was easy to see why Fox has been sought after by Stevie Wonder, Diana Krall, and Branford Marsalis, among others.

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Ian Ethan Case

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Ian Ethan Case is a young guitarist with a style that is both sonically and visually original and unorthodox in all the best ways. Case’s performance at this showcase surely had many six-stringers rethink the possibilities of the guitar. Case plays a double neck acoustic guitar in a unique and percussive manner, strumming the six string side of the guitar with one hand, while fretting chords and lead sequences on the 12 string side with the other hand, over the neck of the guitar while occasionally thumping his fists on the instrument’s body, creating polyrhythms. One must see this to believe it. His ideas were endless, playing a style that had elements of country, acoustic rock, and bluegrass, but is a completely unique sound nonetheless.

Case’s ballad “Anthony’s Lullaby”, dedicated to his infant son, had a dream-like, dissonant yet dark, melodic quality to it. It was refreshing to witness a guitarist who has created his own style and is not emulating a host of other players.

Vocalist Toots Hibbert and guitarist Carl Harvey are know for their work in the prolific reggae band Toots And The Maytals, but their acoustic, Delta Blues renditions of the Maytals’ classics “Reggae Got Soul” and “54-46 Was My Number” was a brilliant departure for these two men from the reggae world.  As both men strummed acoustic guitars, with Harvy playing an occasional piercing lead, Hibbert’s vocals sounded like a cross between the late Reverend Gary Davis and Richie Havens.  Their country blues arrangements gave the songs new fire and soul. This was pure blues without any of the affectations that many guitarists of other genres who try to conquer the blues are often guilty of falling back on.

James Hill

Ukulele master James Hill and bassist Bakithi Kumalo (bassist on Paul Simon’s Graceland album) brought some much needed humor to this event, performing a witty reading of Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean,” with Hill singing and playing the chord changes on ukulele and Kumalo playing the funky bass line on a small, short scale bass.  The sound of Hill playing those syncopated minor ninth chords on a ukulele made his performance one to remember for a long time. Although Hill is a skilled musician, it’s rare and refreshing to see an artist at an event like this who doesn’t take himself too seriously and isn’t afraid to show it.

So that’s it for my NAMM 2013 highlights. At a huge event like this, it’s quality over quantity as there were hundreds of performances during the four day convention.

Like most of the NAMM attendees, I’m exhausted yet already curious about next year’s lineup of showcases and events.

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To read more reviews and posts by Devon Wendell click HERE.

A Twist Of Doc: Devon “Doc” Wendell’s Musical Highlights of 2012

By Devon Wendell

Now I must push through those big barriers that keep a thinking/nerdy musician like myself stagnant and trapped in one or two musical eras or genres, far from today and far from this exact moment in history. I must dissolve the bitterness and the frustration, and the notion that it’s all nothing more than blurry, recycled fragments of musical shades and rudiments created so long ago. The nothing new today but newly done old music is so easy to live in, to cocoon myself in the warmth of familiarity and sentimentality.  2012 was a concrete year like all others behind us with its own unique fingerprint in time, so I look back at some of my favorite moments in the music of 2012.

 Blues

Let’s start where it all begins: the blues. This past year Shemekia Copeland released one of the most powerful and poignant blues albums I’ve ever heard. Copeland’s 33 1/3 (Telarc) not only displayed Copeland’s confident tenor blues vocals, and stellar arrangements — which combine not only blues, but also country, funk, gospel, and rock –  it also showed she is a true blues poet. The lyrics on 33 1/3 deal with such topics as poverty on the loud and angry “Lemon Pie” and domestic violence on the chilling “Ain’t Gonna Be Your Tattoo” (Which features slashing blues guitar leads by Buddy Guy.)

The blues began as a poetic art form as heard in the early country blues of Bukka White, Skip James, and Blind Willie McTell, but those elements got lost for the most part in modern blues, so it’s a refreshing sign to hear an artist as popular as Copeland help bring it all back.  33 1/3 has received a Grammy nomination for best blues album of 2012.

 Jazz

In the jazz category, innovative pianist and composer Ahmad Jamal returned to the studio with a bright new quartet (Reginald Veal: bass, Herlin Riley: drums, and 22 year old percussionist Jamal “Conguero” Manolo Badrena) on Blue Moon (Jazz Village).  The quartet on Blue Moon has that tightness, focus and groove demonstrated by Jamal’s trio (Jamal: piano, Israel Crosby: bass, and Vernell Fournier on drums) on his classic album Ahmad Jamal: But Not For Me: Live At The Pershing Lounge, 1958 (Originally issued on Argo).  Jamal’s sense of dynamics, discipline, harmony and space (which transformed jazz forever in the late to mid 50s, influencing everyone from Miles Davis and Red Garland to Bill Evans, and Herbie Hancock) is more prevalent now than ever before.

He and his quartet enhance the one-of-a-kind Jamal sound with new twists to such classics as Johnny Mercer’s “Laura,” Dizzy Gillespie’s “Woody’ N You” (which Jamal had recorded on the But Not For Me album 54 years ago), as well as some originals: “This Is The Life” and “Invitation.” Jamal’s wonderfully transformative adaptation of Rodgers and Hart’s “Blue Moon,” like a Thelonious Monk cover, shows how this jazz master can take a standard and make it his own with the use of syncopation, strong pedal points, and altered harmonies, which alone makes the album worth purchasing. The track earned Jamal a Grammy nomination for best jazz instrumental.

 Rock ‘n’ Roll

In Rock ‘n’ Roll, Bob Dylan’s Tempest (Columbia) deals with violence, rage, mortality, and lost love. Although these universal themes have been used time and time again by Dylan since the beginning of his career, he always makes his misery and anger feel fresh to the masses. This is certainly the case on Tempest. It is also important to note that his band swings hard.  From the jump blues of “Duquesne Whistle,” the Delta blues of The Mississippi Sheik’s “Narrow Way,” and the Celtic rhythms of “Tempest,” Dylan’s band (Tony Garnier: bass, Donnie Herron: steel guitar, banjo, violin, mandolin, David Hidalgo: guitar, accordion, violin, Stu Kimball: guitar, George G. Receli: drums, and Charlie Sexton: guitar) proves that they can follow the man anywhere he wanders while adding strong melodic texturing to every phrase and song.  This may not be a musical romp through the park but it’s pure Dylan, attitude and all.

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The release of Carole King’s Legendary Demos (Hear Music/Concord Music Group) was the most shocking hidden treasure to surface this past year.   This collection consists of demos recorded in New York City’s Brill building both with her ex-writing partner and ex- husband Gerry Goffin in the early to mid 60s, all the way through her infamous Tapestry sessions in 1970. King was writing hits for such artists as the Monkees, The Turtles, Aretha Franklin, Bobby Vee, the Righteous Brothers, Gene Pitney, and dozens of others.

There’s a mournful intimacy to the sound of King, both alone with her piano and with studio session players. This is especially true on the demos for Tapestry. King has every phrase and nuance figured out for the multitude of artists who will be recording her songs. But the power of King’s warm vocals and her gospel-fueled piano playing makes classics like “Pleasant Valley Sunday,” “So Goes Love,” “Take Good Care Of My Baby” and “Yours Until Tomorrow” feel as if they should only have been recorded by King, which most of us would not have expected. Before hearing the demos, it was hard for me to even imagine her singing these songs at all. There’s none of the schmaltz on King’s demos that many of the 60s pop bands would later add to her songs.  This compilation gives an insight to King’s genius as a writer, arranger, and most of all, as a brilliant musician in her own right.

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Another highlight in the category of rock is Donald Fagen’s Sunken Condos (Reprise) and I say this not because I once worked for the man, but because Fagen’s fusing of hip/sly lyrics with slick funk and jazz harmonies has an irresistible groove throughout the entire album. There’s a more dissonant sonic quality to this album than Fagen’s work with Steely Dan and this sounds nothing like Fagen’s three previous solo recordings.

Steely Dan trumpeter Michael Leonhart co-produced the album with Fagen as well as playing drums (under the alias of Earl Cook Jr.) plus adding keys and even contributing to the crisp engineering.  And Kurt Rosenwinkel’s guitar solo on “Planet D’Rhonda” sounds like Kenny Burrell on acid, which every guitar player must check out.

 Live Performance

I’ve include one exhilarating live performance on my list of highlights: Eddie Palmieri and his Salsa Orchestra At The Hollywood Bowl on August 17^th.  Although Palmieri’s set was painfully short (under 45 minutes), in order to give way for the more pop oriented Ruben Blades, this master of Latin jazz got cooking from the second he took the Bowl stage. Palmieri and his Orchestra performed such classics as “La Liberta Logica,” “Pa La Ocha Tamba,” and his biggest hit, “Azucar Pa Ti.” Palmieri was joined by the stellar jazz trumpeter Brian Lynch, whose frenetic style was the perfect counterpoint to Palmieri’s sparse, percussive, and syncopated piano playing – a style that has earned him the title; “The Latin Thelonious Monk.”

Palmieri lit a fire under the band on this hot August night. On his first solo during “La Liberta Logica,” he played very few notes but they were more brilliantly executed than a thousand notes could ever be played by anyone else. The energy from this solo spread to the percussionists (Joes Clauselle: timbales, Little Johnny Rivero: congas, Joseph Gonzalez: maracas, and Orlando Vega on bongos) who generated a tidal wave of polyrhythms and Afro-Cuban hooks that felt as if they had always been a part of my entire being.  This was a performance not only to remember in 2012, but for a lifetime.

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These are my musical highlights of 2012. I know what many of you are asking after reading this or anything else I’ve written for The International Review Of Music: “No Justin Bieber, No Chris Brown or Katie Perry?” “What’s Up Doc?!” Well, don’t hold your breath, and there’s always 2013, so stay tuned folks.

To read more posts, reviews and columns by Devon Wendell click HERE.

A Twist Of Doc: The 67th Anniversary of Charlie Parker’s “Koko” Sessions

By Devon “Doc” Wendell

Charlie Parker is known as the creator of Bebop, the man who changed jazz as drastically as Louis Armstrong and Duke Ellington. Due to a ban on recording by the American Federation Of Musicians from 1942-44, Parker’s great musical discovery would remain a mystery until the release of his take on the Ray Noble classic “Cherokee,” recorded on November 26, 1945.

CHarlie Parker

Although Parker had recorded “All The Things You Are,” “Hot House,” “Salt Peanuts” and “Groovin’ High” back in February and May of that year as a side man with Dizzy Gillespie, these sides didn’t demonstrate what Parker claims to have stumbled upon as far back as 1939 during his first visit to NYC from Kansas City. While playing over the changes of Ray Noble’s “Cherokee,” Parker realized that by abandoning the traditional melody line and improvising over the chord changes with altered harmonies he could do anything.  “I realized by using the high notes of the chords as a melody line, and by the right harmonic progression, I could play what I heard inside me. That’s when I was born.”

Although many musicians were aware of what Parker had found and was using musically while attending or witnessing jam sessions at Minton’s Playhouse in Harlem or at the clubs on 52^nd Street, the rest of the world came very close to never hearing this musical revolution on record.

There was chaos from the very start of the day for what turned into arguably the greatest jazz recording session of all time, exactly sixty-seven years ago.  On November 26^th, 1945, Charlie Parker was booked to record a standard 3 hour, 4 side session for tiny Savoy Records at WOR studios in NYC.  This was Parker’s very first session as a bandleader. The band he had booked for this date was Charlie Parker’s Reboppers: Miles Davis: trumpet, Dizzy Gillespie: trumpet and piano, Bud Powell: piano, Curly Russell: bass, and Max Roach on drums.

The complications began when session producer Teddy Reig showed up at Parker’s apartment that morning to take him to the studio. There was no Bud Powell. Parker informed Reig that Powell had gone to Philadelphia to assist his mother in house shopping. Dizzy Gillespie was present and Parker told Reig, “Here’s your piano player.”  Supposedly, Parker also contacted a pianist he had heard on some of Dexter Gordon’s Savoy sessions from September named Argonne Thornton and asked him to show up and play.

Sixty-seven years later, there’s still confusion about what Thornton did in fact play on this date, since Gillespie was known to have played a bulk of the piano accompaniment according to Reig’s session notes.

Dizzy Gillespie

At WOR studios, Reig and Savoy owner Herman Lubinsky sat in the recording booth, with Parker, Davis, Gillespie, Russell, and Roach in the studio. They were scheduled to record two of Parker’s original blues; “Billie’s Bounce” and “Now’s The Time” and two covers, one based on the George Gershwin’s “I Got Rhythm” and the other on Ray Noble’s “Cherokee.”

The band started with “Warming Up A Riff” which was based on the “Cherokee” chord changes. The original title of this tune was “Savoy Tea Party.”  The band was unaware that they were being recorded, which is evident in the existing track’s jam session feel, with Gillespie laughing loudly in the background.

The band then did several takes of Parker’s straight Kansas City blues “Billie’s Bounce.” The 5^th take was the master from the session.  Followed by four takes of another blues, “Now’s The Time.”

Three takes of the tune based on ‘I Got Rhythm” were laid down and were titled “Thriving From A Riff,” which would later be known as “Anthropology.”  Parker was not happy due to some very obvious problems he was having with his sax.   Despite his brilliant playing, you can hear the squeaky mouth piece of his instrument on the master takes of “Billie’s Bounce” and “Now’s The Time.”

Miles Davis

At one point, Parker stopped the session to go downstairs to get his saxophone fixed at a music store. When he returned with his axe repaired, a 19 year old Miles Davis had temporarily vanished. A frustrated Parker went into a beautiful and haunting ballad, then titled “Meandering,” which was based on the changes of “Embraceable You” with Dizzy playing Monk-like, syncopated piano chords.

Next, it was time to record Parker’s version of “Cherokee.”  And there are still disputes over the exact personnel. Thornton claims to have played piano while Dizzy played the intro on trumpet along with Bird’s alto sax.  But Reig states that Roach’s drum solo after this intro was created to give Dizzy enough time to put down his trumpet and run to the piano.

It was also clear from the first take that Parker hadn’t intended on recording his version of “Cherokee,” using his masterful improvisational discoveries.

During the first take of “Savoy Tea Party,” using “Cherokee” chord changes, Parker played the classic “Cherokee” melody line.  But Reig and Lubinsky stopped the tape and reminded Parker that they would have to pay royalties for the song if he played it so obviously, which neither the label nor Parker could afford.

Parker and the band stopped. To simply warm up, Parker went into “Koko,” his own melody line based on the chords of “Cherokee,” demonstrating the enthralling musical discovery he’d made back in 1939.  Lubinsky shouted out “Wait, let’s record that!”

Max Roach

With the original stated melody line gone, replaced by his “Koko” melody, Parker could fly and he did. After a complex eight measure intro by Parker and Gillespie, followed by Roach’s bombastic drum solo, Parker let loose, gliding all over the instrument in a manner never heard before. “Cherokee” and “Savoy Tea Party’ were dead, giving way for the immortal “Koko.”  And Parker owned “Koko” with fierce determination.

To younger jazz musicians and people open enough to go where Parker was taking the music, Parker had provided the key to a golden kingdom. This wasn’t an easy task and only true virtuosos could follow Parker’s example.

Many musicians and fans of the swing era, previous to this, thought that Parker (rightly nicknamed “Bird”) was just playing any old thing and they hadn’t realized the complexities of the harmonies Parker created, not to mention his unparalleled dexterity. No one had done anything like this before, and generations of musicians would copy Bird’s every note and nuance from then on.

No instrumental jazz recording had broken similar barriers since Coleman Hawkins’ rendition of “Body & Soul,” recorded with his orchestra in 1939, in which Hawkins only hinted at the song’s melody and improvised freely over the chord changes for two choruses.

Bebop had broken free from the smelly taverns on 52^nd street and smoky after-hour jams at Minton’s Playhouse in Harlem. Now everyone could hear this music and everyone did.

I first heard “Koko” and the entire “Koko” sessions on a Savoy Parker Compilation called The Charlie Parker Story when I was 13.  The music frightened me. Parker’s tone was the deepest blues I had heard since Robert Johnson. The phrasing and harmonies seemed rebellious and daring like nothing I had heard before. There was a danger involved with what Parker and his cohorts were playing, as though, if one person made a wrong turn, everyone would fall off the tightrope wire.

Parker was like a laser beam, shooting through every interval on his alto sax.  Every time I listen to “Koko,” I still envision reaching the top of a giant hill on a rollercoaster.  And just when Max Roach’s drum solo ends, it’s time to take that dive into unknown twists and turns, and marvelous leaps and spills.

All of the players were perfect on that historical day. Many critics and players put down Davis because he didn’t demonstrate the freneticism on trumpet that Gillespie was known for. This can be heard on “Now’s The Time” recorded that day. Davis played very few notes but because they were the right notes, he created a counterpoint to what Parker was playing, a brilliant contradiction that would define his own sound.  Dizzy’s style wouldn’t have been right on “Now’s The Time” — this was the Kansas City blues Bird grew up on, and Miles knew it.

“Koko” was one of the greatest revelations in American music and unfortunately one of the last. The fact that it almost didn’t happen the way Parker conceived it, makes  everything played that day all the more precious and also makes one wonder what would have happened to jazz history had it not come off.  I don’t want to know.

To read more posts by Devon Wendell click HERE

A Twist of Doc: Sex And The Blues

By Devon “Doc” Wendell

I can still see and feel it as if it were yesterday. Lost in a daydream in the final stages of some pre-pubescent heaven or hell was this long, slender goddess walking past me as I sat on a stoop on Henry Street in Brooklyn. She wore a tan short skirt and high heels. Her hips moved from left to right in a rhythmic pattern that I would be lost in for the rest of my life. And there it was, the sound that went with it. Muddy Waters belting out “Just To Be With You” that I had recorded off a radio show broadcast out of Newark, N.J. at 3:00am a month earlier.

Muddy Waters

The tempo, the bass thumping, the screaming harmonica, the languid but blistering guitar lines and Muddy’s voice all felt as if he were right there next to me, watching her every move in front of that old brown stone.  If I could only speak to her or sing like Muddy with that sense of pleading, desperation, experience, and power, she might look back and smile. Of course, there was more than a desire for just a smile, but I had to be realistic.

Before I knew it, she had turned a corner and was gone forever, the start of a frustrating pattern for me — but that music stuck around.  It stayed through all of the missed opportunities for dates due to a crippling shyness, through all of the stacks of nudie magazines and viewings of Charlie’s Angels, through my first break up to my last. The blues was there.

I knew from the affect it had on me — that this was not kiddy music.

From that time — when I was about eleven years old, gawking at that beauty of Brooklyn — to the present age of 37, the blues, for me, has always been synonymous with sex.  Rock n’ roll tried too hard. Mick Jagger prancing around onstage, trying to sound American was so forced, and that rhythm wasn’t there.  Mick acted like he knew and labored to prove to everyone that he did.

But it didn’t feel the same as it did with a true bluesman. It didn’t seem as though they had to put that much effort into it. If anything, they had to struggle to tame the flames as they rose to their heights, to control the powerful, commanding force that has taken down empires.  It’s all right there. Howlin’ Wolf’s ethereal moans on “Moanin’ At Midnight,” with its one hypnotic chord, felt sweaty, giving me a delightful anxiousness, along with flashes of the girls who attended Catholic School with me, and the parts of their bodies not hidden beneath their drab uniforms (as close as I would ever get).  It happened instantaneously when I’d hear that sound.

Ray Charles

It still does. I could just look at footage of Muddy Waters or Ray Charles, at their facial expression and body language, and I knew that they understood something so sweet that I didn’t fully at eleven.  I would get it later on in high school and when I did, it felt as if I finally got something right about the world.

During my initial carnal baptisms, I would often get hit with quick images of Ray Charles smiling and singing “My Bonnie,” which I had seen when I was seven or eight on a PBS fundraiser. That smile spoke volumes.  Even before those written clichés about the forbidden relationship between gospel, blues, and rock n’ roll, it was clear that Ray’s higher power wasn’t always God.

B.B. King painted the picture with his guitar Lucille (aptly named after a woman). His big thick bright tone, string bending (sometimes fast, sometimes slow) and his vocal-like phrasing were this wonderful assault on the libido. He knew to take his time so you’d get the full picture undistorted.  B.B.’s steady vibrato mimicked a woman’s voice crying out in sheer pleasure.

B.B. King

At the time I first discovered B.B.’s sound, the popular guitarists of the day played a million notes at once and with a thin, shrill tone.  Those heavy metal shredders played like they had never seen or touched a good (or bad) woman in their lives.  It wasn’t even “quickie” music with its fast tempos.

B.B.’s band would lock into that gutbucket slow soul and, mixed with what he was (and wasn’t) playing on Lucille, it was all over for me.  I could see Parades of Playboy bunnies dancing around my unmade bed while I sat there with a pair of earphones plugged into my cheap cassette player.

Also in my teens, I remember watching a film of the late great Freddie King in 1966 when he appeared on a television show called The Beat.  A friend inquired “Why is he sweating and why are his eyes closed so tight?” and I felt sorry for my pal. He didn’t have access to the key to that kingdom. It was so obvious that Freddie had been there and back and would die right there on stage for it while singing “I Love The Woman” with every ounce of energy, ecstasy, sorrow, and regret — and he made it all seem worth it.

I knew if I could summon that kind of power, I could enter the kingdom and be a part of this exclusive club of mighty misogynists (which only seemed cool in my twisted youth).  And that became my primary focus. Once I had my first guitar, as often as I constantly practiced along with records by Muddy, B.B., Albert King, Son House, and Lightnin’ Hopkins, I also worked on the attitude. That “Come here, baby, and sit on daddy’s knee” swagger gave me the much needed confidence that finally demolished all shyness.

John Lee Hooker

During my senior year in high school, I was lucky enough to meet the late John Lee Hooker at The Beacon Theater in NYC after his performance. He spoke freely of women and the blues. He also called me “Doc” a few times and I would rename myself that to go with this new sense of self.  Devon wasn’t really a cool blues name and everything had to fit or I might end up looking as foolish as Mick Jagger.

I was also hearing the mythical stories of Robert Johnson and how he had women all over the Mississippi Delta, cooking for him, giving him their bodies, money, places to stay, words of encouragement, and anything he desired.  I failed to look at where his confidence and behavior would ultimately lead him after he was supposedly given some poisoned whiskey by a jealous man after having a tryst with the wrong woman. Those kinds of consequences meant nothing to me as a teen, for I had no prior experiences with making such bad decisions, but they frighten me to the core today.

Today you can hear Howlin’ Wolf’s “Smokestack Lightnin’” on a commercial for Viagra. Sure, the message is less than subtle, but that image of sexual potency in the blues still lives on. I can’t help but think Viagra would not be needed if a steady dose of Muddy’s and Wolf’s music were initially part of the diet, but some of us learn later than others.  I’m glad I got a head start.