5 Songs Friday, Apr. 25, 2025

These are some fine recordings

The Clash – “London’s Burning” 1977 from The Clash. Almost three years before London came Calling, it was Burning in the purview of the Clash. It’s funny how sometimes the early punk rock records could sound so revolutionarily furious but turn out to be about nothing more than driving aimlessly throughout the city looking for anything to relieve the dullness of existence. Boredom was the enemy – this was a few months after Buzzcocks sang of “Boredom,” and on the same album as this song, the Clash told us “I’m So Bored With the U.S.A.” I read a lot about the Clash and this album before I ever heard it. I actually bought Give ‘Em Enough Rope before I was able to snag the English debut record – for me, that’s the way this album is supposed to be sequenced and mixed – from a friend in a trade. (I actually think I gave him the first Crosby, Stills & Nash album for it.) “London’s Burning” stands out as a powerhouse statement of aggression and frustration. If it’s enemies are the other drivers and the confusion of which tube to take to get to the right flat rather than the political system that was keeping the proles down, this record still feels like it’s ready to burn everything down and start again.

Joe Louis Walker & Otis Grand – “Better Off Alone” 2002 from Guitar Brothers. Joe Louis Walker is one of the finest blues singers and guitarists still roaming the stages of the world. Otis Grand was a fine player as well, though I’m not as familiar with him – Walker produced and played on quite a few records with him. This album featured both of them, and I don’t see any reason either would be better off alone in this case. This song, written by Sebastian Molijn and Eelke Kalberg, neither of whom I know at all, is a minor key bluesy number sung by a guy whose partner doesn’t give anything back to him at all. “I put my arms around you / It’s like I’ve been hanging on thin air.” That’s a pretty devastating indictment. As always, Walker sings with conviction, and then lets his guitar tell the real story of pain and sorrow starting about three minutes in. Grand takes over seamlessly after a couple choruses with a sterner, less emotional solo that plays off Walker quite well. Somehow I missed this album back when it was new, but it’s another excellent recording from Mr. Walker.

King Curtis & the Kingpins – “Whole Lotta Love” 1970 single available on The Complete Atco Singles. It’s just your basic Led Zeppelin song played on tenor saxophone with a powerful brass arrangement on the back end taking the place of the breakdown where Robert Plant sighed and moaned in the original. A year after recording this highly pleasurable single, Curtis would be stabbed to death during a senseless fight. But in the dozen or so years before recording this song, Curtis appeared on all sorts of great records, mostly for the Atlantic group of labels, including classics by the Coasters and Aretha Franklin. I’m not sure who the musicians are on this record, but they do a great job of opening up the groove built by the original. The guitar has an effects pedal making it sound different, then the trumpets blare the “Whole lotta love” part, and the full brass section opens up on the breakdown before taking things in a 70s big band direction near the end. The guitar player has a little fun at the fade out, too. It’s pure joy.

Duke Ellington, Charles Mingus, and Max Roach – “Solitude” 1963 from Money Jungle. I’ve always loved this album though I recognize there are people who don’t think Mingus and Roach were compatible with their elder Ellington. I find the occasional tension between their disparate styles to be invigorating, and I also think there are many places where the three are quite simpatico. For example, this lovely rendition of the then 29-year-old classic ballad. For the first two minutes, Ellington plays the tune himself, adding luscious filigrees and tender touches to the ridiculously beautiful melody so ingrained in jazz history. For the next minute, Mingus tentatively accompanies him, playing mostly root notes behind the chords until just past the three minute mark, Roach comes in. He and Mingus support Ellington with lightly walking bass and brushed drums. There are touches of stride in Ellington’s left hand, but he never sounds old-fashioned. It’s all gorgeous and elegant, as so much of his music was.

Fela Kuti – “Go Slow” 1972 from Roforofo Fight. It starts out slow and simmering, with a gentle saxophone riff over light percussion but soon enough, the electric piano and the drum kit (played by the magnificent Tony Allen) bring up the power levels, and then the horn section explodes, and we are in classic Afrobeat style. I’m pretty sure that’s Fela playing the first alto solo, and I think he plays a tenor solo later, and is presumably the electric piano soloist even later, but everybody gets a chance to show off their skills as the tight but loose feel of this band keeps the groove going for over seventeen minutes. Eventually, almost nine minutes in, Fela starts to sing “Go slow” over and over again with responses from male and female voices. The song seems to be about the rights of workers to own their land, and the ways they are exploited, and the ways they join in exploitation by joining the rat race. There is a remarkable bit of triple time syncopated sounds unlikely to be words even in an African language coming out of Fela’s mouth at one point that makes it feel out of control before he starts singing about the repercussions of exploitation. The variety of ways Fela sings the words “Go slow” shows off skills it’s easy to forget he had, as there are so many things happening on his records. But he was a great lyricist, great singer, great bandleader, and one of the most compelling musicians of the 20^th Century.