Bobby Previte: Airstrip One and Memory Hole
From: The Coalition of the Willing [Ropeadope 2006)

I regret that it was only until recently that I familiarized myself with New York composer and percussionist Bobby Previte, who has got to be one of the most exciting musicians working today. First a brief introduction: Previte grew up in upstate New York, where his first drum kit was fashioned out of metal garbage cans, aluminum pie plates, and wire coat hangers. His formal studies took place at the University of Buffalo, where he studied with John Cage and Morton Feldman before he permanently settled in NYC and became a fixture of the growing “downtown” experimental jazz scene of the 1980s. For the past 25 years he has cut his teeth on records from the likes of John Zorn and Tom Waits.

Among the half-dozen of Previte’s current projects is a collective called the Coalition of the Willing, a sort of warped bar band devoted to his eclectic instrumental compositions. For their self-titled release on Ropeadope Records last year, Previte recruited guitarist Charlie Hunter (who eschews his usual 8-stringed bass/guitar hybrid for a Telecaster), keyboardist Jamie Saft, and Seattle’s Skerik on saxophones. One could be forgiven to expect a whirlwind of electric improvisation with a group like this, yet instead the focus is on Previte’s uniquely skewed compositions; the album contains elements of ’70s fusion, classic hard rock, reggae, new wave, Hawaiian surf, psychedelia, spy music, avant-garde jazz, and pretty much every other genre of music under the sun. What looks like a contrived, stylistic disaster on paper actually translates quite well to the record, mostly due to the caliber of the musicians here and Previte’s remarkable skills as a composer.

“Airstrip One” opens with a rolling drum pattern that features the assistance of Stanton Moore on second kit, and alternates between a long siren-like wailing from the guitar and a series of exploratory bass solos, both from the versatile Hunter. Then midway through, Hunter rips off a blues lick to kick off a groove that sounds like an outtake from Miles‘ A Tribute to Jack Johnson (1970). “Memory Hole” is more subtle, a tone-poem of colors that advances cautiously, buoyed by Saft’s shimmering electric piano and a soft pulse from Previte – that strange harmonica-like sound is Steve Bernstein’s “slide trumpet.” Unexpectedly, Previte shifts to a 6/8 swing, the bass begins to walk, and Hunter takes the opportunity to display his blues chops again before returning to the opening theme.

Although the record doesn’t necessarily push the envelope in terms of jazz composition or arranging, it’s still an exciting hybrid of rock and jazz that comes highly recommended for those looking for something a little different. The live band is supposed to be a monster on stage, which I imagine would be a much better interaction with the music if Previte gets the group together to tour again.

Shuggie Otis: Oxford Gray and Jennie Lee
From: Here Comes Shuggie Otis [Epic, 1970]

Anyone who’s been following my meandering posts for a while will know of my utter worship of Shuggie Otis’s Inspiration Information album. One of my personal favourite albums of all time, I’m also a big fan of his earlier Freedom Flight album which got an awareness boost when it was featured on the rerelease of Inspiration Information a couple of years ago.

However, what seems more slept on or dismissed as a straight blues album is Shuggie’s second (his first was the very bluesy Al Kooper Introduces Shuggie Otis, in 1969) solo release Here Comes Shuggie Otis. Let me warn you now, people who ignore this album are doing themselves a big disfavour.

While less experimental and psychedelic than Freedom Flight and Inspiration Information the album does start to display the individual route that Shuggie would take with his future releases featuring some great funk and moments of genuine beauty, particularly in the first half before Shuggie settles into a more blues orientated structure. The album is also helped by having reliably great production from Shuggie’s dad Johnny Otis Jr., highlighting the delicacy of Shuggie’s melodies and playing.

Shuggie kicks off the album in fine style with the extended instrumental funk of Oxford Gray, playing with the listener’s expectations as the music increases and decreases in tempo, meaty percussion making way for calming strings before the track kicks off once again.

Jennie Lee is a personal favourite of mine, a love song which shares similar qualities of genuine tenderness and beauty with Otis’ greatest tracks from his following two albums and once again underlines the amazing talent that he brought to the table. Listen to this and try and remember that the man was only 17 at the time of recording. Amazing.

From: Mingering Mike: The Amazing Career of an Imaginary Soul Superstar

Something slightly different today readers, a departure from music into the world of literature. However this isn’t any old book. On a semi hiatus again from the Fuzz, as work has become an overwhelming factor in my day to day life and some truly bizarre illnesses have crossed my doorstep, one thing has been keeping me sane. That thing is the newly released book on Mingering Mike.

Mike’s work first came to the attention of the digging world when Dori Hadar, a long time contributor to the Soulstrut forum, posted up a collection of hand drawn album covers he’d discovered at a boot sale. Not only did the covers show an amazing amount of detail right down to credits, lyrics, and bar codes but they also included cardboard records with grooves drawn into them. This whole find featured one connection, they were either written by, performed by, or produced by a man calling himself Mingering Mike.

Understandably all good diggers were more than a little intrigued by this and Dori spent the following months tracking down the man behind this collection and the story behind it. When he eventually found him the true story was possibly even more amazing than the album covers suggested.

I won’t spoil any more of the tale but hopefully this whets your appetite for the newly published book on Mike’s collection that features interviews with the man himself and full colour prints of his work. It’s a book that anyone who’s ever spent an afternoon picking through grime covered crates can relate to whole heartedly, the attention to detail and love that has gone into every part of the work (my jpegs above really don’t do it justice) is a sight to behold as is the ever developing career of Mike as he racks up the platinum album sales.

You can find out more about the book at the official website. The guys are also going on a tour displaying the original work which, being the wrong side of the Atlantic, I am unlikely to see in person but word is it’s even more amazing up close.

I can only urge people to check this book out, it’s not only an amazing and life affirming insight into an ordinary man’s alternate reality but also a stunning collection of art that is truly one of a kind.

DWYCK (Paul Nice Remix) – Gang Starr f/ Nice & Smooth
The Bizness (Paul Nice Remix) – De La Soul f/ Common
from the mix cd Lost Product, Vol. 1 (2007).

Paul Nice has been around for a long time digging deep into crates, putting together amazing mixes, and producing tracks that capture the sound of the first golden era of hip hop whether he made it in 1989 or 2006. He was just out here in San Francisco last week and that’s reason enough to highlight a couple of tracks off of one of his more recent mixes (this cat is magnificently prolific). Lost Product is a mix of original Nice remixes of various tracks (mostly hip hop but some soul).

First up is a remix of the Gang Starr and Nice & Smooth team up “DWYCK.” There must dozens (hundreds?) of DWYCK so another one has to be dynamite to get noticed, and Paul Nice provides. Also it is fun, working the bassline and a vocal snippet from the theme song for Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids. Paul Nice really has a great feel for basslines which is also clear on his remix of “The Bizness” from De La Soul w/ Common. Very jazzy and less bouncey than many of Paul Nice’s tracks, but still a great fit for the well-known lyrics.

Note, this mix is called Lost Product, Vol. 1, which I really hope means that Paul’s got stacks of these redo’s cluttering his hard-drive and we’ll be graced with them soon.

Bob & Gene: I Can Be Cool and Gotta Find A Way
From: If This World Were Mine [Daptone, 2007]

One thing I never get tired of in the world of digging is the reissue of gems thought lost to history. Not only does the music often dazzle and surprise, you can bet that the backstory will also offer up an intriguing mix of fate, devotion and, finally, crushed dreams.

The Daptones have uncovered a gem of this type with their release of Bob & Gene’s If This World Were Mine. I won’t go into the backstory here but it’s definitely worth checking out featuring all the required elements that make a digger’s heart swell.

There’s always a danger with this type of project that the music itself is over glorified merely due to its unexpected unearthing but Bob & Gene’s output would stand up if it had been a staple of compilations for the last forty years.

I Can Be Cool exhibits such a raw charm that it won my heart as soon as it hit the deck. I’ve never been able to say no to songs about unrequited love and Bob & Gene’s attempts at wooing are played out over a lo fi sound that complements their unpolished vocals brilliantly. I love the way the shuffling drums pick up in the final third to a kind of Soulful Strut melody performed on what to my untrained ear sounds like a couple of recorders.

Bob & Gene were all about sweet soul and I Gotta Find A Way is so on the money it hurts. Once again exploring the world of that ever elusive girl’s love the duo’s voices play of each other to great effect. Maybe I’m just a sucker but I have my suspicions that this song would have half the power without the raw production. The two young guys singing their hearts out over the melody make this a special treat indeed.

Black Heat: You Should’ve Listened and Super Cool
From: No Time To Burn [Atlantic, 1974]

So, first off, apologies for the break in posting, what can I say? Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that so hopefully you’ll welcome me back with open ears to the lip smacking funk of Black Heat.

Rudely ignored for most of the past 25 years, the band are probably most famous these days for their sample friendly self titled debut. However I’ve always had a very large soft spot for the band’s second release, No Time To Burn, which seems to be the moment where the band truly found a balance between the vocals and the grooves. It’s one of those special records that appeared in that period where funk and disco were positive influences on each other and before the scene collapsed under the weight of its need to boogie.

You Should’ve Listened is everything that was right about dancefloor funk in the early seventies channelled into five and a half minutes. Starting with a brilliant horn led riff the track builds on it’s bass and harmonies into the kind of song that sends the right dancefloor into spasms. Love the wilding out guitar in the last section too.

I’ve said it before but it bears repeating, you’re always on highly dangerous ground when you record a song with cool in the title but, with Super Cool, I think Black Heat pull it off. More downtempo than much of the album, the band take a sweet groove and just run with it to it’s natural conclusion. I can never say no to this kind of organ work either. Splendid stuff.

Good news for once as well, both this and the band’s debut are available as a double reissue and I can whole heartedly recommend picking them up. So go on then.