Sonny James – “Where Did My Love Go” 1969 from Only the Lonely. Remember a couple weeks back when I said Charlie Rich has been largely forgotten? Well, his status in today’s world is practically that of Willie Nelson compared to Sonny James. James was a huge country star in the late 60s and early 70s, with more than 20 number one hits in that span. But I can’t remember if I’ve ever sold a single album of his in 41 years of record store work. I happen to dig the guy myself. This song, not a single, was actually co-written by James and his frequent collaborator Carol Smith. It’s a quiet countrypolitan weeper, as he bemoans the fact that his lover has gone away with just enough trembling in his voice to make you feel his pain. This one doesn’t have strings or backing vocals, and it does have an electric piano, which makes it stand out from the pack of Nashville records at the time.
Louis Armstrong – “Big Butter and Egg Man” 1947 from Louis Armstrong at Town Hall. Armstrong had led a big band for a long time, but that was becoming less and less financially viable. In 1947, he launched his All-Stars, a band featuring players steeped in the New Orleans jazz traditions he’d come up in, yet young enough to make it swing. This is from one of their first concerts, a take on a song Armstrong had recorded with his Hot Five group back in 1927, I think. At that time, it was sung by May Alix, who had the kind of vocal style that is hard on modern ears. Much more relaxed is Armstrong’s own take here, though he has to switch the lyrics up to talk about a woman who wants a big butter and egg man, rather than being the one who desires same. The title is a slang phrase that might as well be by Chaucer it’s fallen so far from use. It refers to a big spender. Armstrong’s vocal, as great as it is, is secondary to his spectacular trumpet playing here. Excited to be revisiting old tunes, he played as securely and as hot as he had done twenty years earlier.
Black Sheep – “Gimme The Finga” 1991 from A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing. I remember when this record was new, but I don’t remember hearing it as much as records by this duo’s Native Tongues peers such as De La Soul, Jungle Brothers, or Tribe Called Quest. Dres and Mista Lawnge were every bit as clever and infectious as those other groups. This song is kind of a self-affirmation version of Ice Cube’s later “It Was a Good Day.” Over a springy blast of funk drums with some keyboard loops that sound practically out of the circus, the song tells of sleeping late, eating breakfast, getting ready to go out, having a mid-day Heineken and eating k’nish. That done, they start telling about their accountant, lawyer, engineer, manager, and honeys. “My favorite meal is anything with meat.” The last verse is all about living in the moment, living for yourself, and putting your best foot forward. “Pleeaaasseee!”
Esther Phillips – “Somebody Else Is Taking My Place” 1966 single available on Set Me Free. I understand if the backing track, a harpsichord and brass led cha cha rhythm, reminds you of the theme music to The Dating Game. And I willingly admit that there are dozens and dozens of better records in the discography of this great singer who straddled the worlds of jazz, r&b, and pop from the early 50s through the early 80s. But I just happen to really dig the way her vocals swing over this band which didn’t know yet it was corny. Everybody is just having a good time, even Phillips, who doesn’t sound unhappy she’s being replaced. “Can’t you see I’m trying to keep from crying?” she asks, but honestly, I think she’s trying to keep from jumping for joy. Insouciance never sounded so infectious.
Chris Hillman – “Love is the Sweetest Amnesty” 1976 from Slippin’ Away. My parents got to see Chris Hillman live, but I never did. I remember going to visit them one night in the late 80s and they told me they’d won tickets to a country concert that I might have liked by the Desert Rose Band. I was never so jealous of them. Hillman, for those who don’t recognize the name, was an original member of both the Byrds and the Flying Burrito Brothers as well as the Desert Rose Band later. This solo album from the mid-70s isn’t one I’ve seen very often, but man, this song is sweet. How about a band that includes Steve Cropper on guitar, Lee Sklar on bass, Russ Kunkel on drums and Al Perkins on pedal steel? Hillman is trying to convince his partner that because they love each other so much, they can talk through any problems that might come up. With this band swelling up beneath him, and some lovely harmonies by Hillman and Herb Pedersen, I don’t see how he could possibly lose this discussion.
I was very fortunate to get to see Chris Hillman at a house concert in Clayton about 10 years ago! It was an amazing evening of music and stories.