Showing posts with label British Blues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label British Blues. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Cross the Water Blues

Cross the Water Blues: African America Music in Europe
Edited by Neil A. Wynn
University of Mississippi Press

From the late Nineteenth Century European tours of the Fisk Jubilee Singers to the 1960’s British Blues Revival tours, African American musicians have often found receptive audiences across the Atlantic. In response to the centennial celebration of W.C. Handy’s first blues publication, particularly Mike Figgis’s examination of the British Blues tradition for Martin Scorsese’s PBS special, an academic conference examining the phenomenon of African American music in Europe was organized by the University of Gloucestershire and the European Blues Association. Many of the resulting papers have now been revised, collected, and published in Cross the Water Blues.

As is to be expected in anthologies, not every contribution offers the same level of insight. However, there are several valuable papers which challenge the notion of an entirely enlightened European embrace of the music. Both Iris Schmeisser writing on Josephine Baker in France and Catherine Parsonage discussing jazz in England identify a similar dichotomy. The French and English were attracted to this music both as an expression of urban modernism and to satisfy an exotic fetish for the music’s perceived primitive African roots. Parsonage writes: “Jazz encapsulates musically the metaphor of the ‘urban jungle,’ as its modernity was expressed through its perceived ‘primitive’ rhythmic qualities.” (p. 92)

One of the more valuable pieces comes from Rainer E. Lotz, whose “Black Music Prior to the First World War,” performs some impressive musical archeology, tracking down details on now obscure musicians who were able to carve out impressive careers on the Continent. Citing many archaic cylinder recordings, Lotz concludes: “African American musicians were among the pioneers of recorded music not only in the United States, but also in Europe.” (p. 81)

Probably the weakest selection was Sean Creighton’s hero-worshipping love letter to Paul Robeson. Glossing Robeson’s loyalty to a Stalinist Soviet Union, Creighton is frankly deceptive when he describes Robeson’s ideology as: “a non-violent crusade for freedom.” (p. 139) As the Hoover Institution's Arnold Beichman catalogues in the Washington Times (article reprinted within comment 47), Robeson sided with the Soviet invaders over the Hungarian people in 1956, defended the Hitler-Stalin Pact, and endorsed the show trials of the Great Terror. Regardless of what you think of Robeson’s ideology, non-violent hardly seems an apt description.

Excepting Creighton’s dubious contribution, Cross the Water is a largely informative volume. As well-mined as the British blues-rock movement might be, Rupert Till finds fresh insight, particularly in his examination of the blues roots of (and litigation against) Led Zeppelin. Many contributors, like Lotz display a laudable enthusiasm for their subjects, while remaining instructive in their papers. Although it is all too easy to believe some of the collected pieces began life at an academic conference, there is much here for music scholars to absorb and debate.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

It Ain't Easy

It Ain’t Easy: Long John Baldry and the Birth of British Blues
By Paul Myers
Greystone Books


Probably the most common complaint in show business history is of victimization by bad management. Unfortunately, some clichés are often solidly grounded in fact, as in the case of Long John Baldry, the acknowledged pioneer of British Blues, who temporarily veered into lounge crooning just as the British blues explosion was about to hit. The often frustrating story of the long, tall British Bluesman unfolds nicely in Paul Myers’ new biography, It Ain’t Easy (which takes its name from one of Baldry’s better received albums).

In the history of British blues, Baldry got in on the ground floor. Strongly (one might say fatally) influenced by Lead Belly and Big Bill Broonzy, Baldry impressed many with his authentic Delta Blues singing style, belying his elegant British demeanor. His early bands backed up touring American Blues legends like Buddy Guy and Howlin’ Wolf. Sometimes these gigs led to interesting situations. Myers quotes one such recollection from Baldry’s early protégé Rod Stewart of an encounter with Little Walter:

“He’d just done his set, and he knew I was scoring big time with some of the girls. He just said, ‘Can you go and get me a girl?’ I took no notice of him, and then he suddenly drew out a knife. He didn’t point it at me, just showed it to me. I said ‘Yeah, yeah. I’ll be right back with a couple!” (p. 73-74)

Baldry was indeed a shrewd talent scout. In addition to being the first to hire the Rod Stewart, he also hired the Elton John early in his career. Formerly Reg Dwight, Elton John eventually adopted his new name from those of John Baldry and his Baldry bandmate Elton Dean. Due to many career missteps, Baldry is best remembered by many for these mentor-student associations.

Music business shenanigans even sabotaged his late-career run in the original Peter Pan production starring Cathy Rigby, for which according to Myers, Pat Waldron, the original producer, blamed Rigby’s manager-husband. Waldron describes for Myers a tantalizing stage follow-up for Baldry that sadly was never financed:

“It’s this one guitar, a metaphor for the evolution of music. Every person had a different approach to playing this guitar . . . They went to New Orleans, to Chicago, to the 20’s, over to Britain, the first rock ‘n’ roll stuff, and then to New York. It was an interesting script, and it promised to be a fascinating project, but we never had the money.” (p. 226)

Easy is a highly readable account of Baldry’s life and his involvement in the British Blues boom that would culminate in the English rock ‘n’ roll invasion of the 1960’s. Myers’ prose is brisk, and at times witty, but never at the expense of his narrative. He deftly handles issues of Baldry’s sexuality and self-destructive tendencies with honesty, without descending into lurid excess. Easy also benefits from Myers’ original interviews with an impressive list of Baldry’s associates and contemporaries, including: Stewart, John, Eric Clapton, John Mayall, Mick Fleetwood, and Brian Auger. It should have a wide rock ‘n’ roll audience, but as was the case with Baldry, it is more likely that the really informed blues people will be the ones seeking it out.