Showing posts with label Robert Palmer's "Deep Blues". Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Palmer's "Deep Blues". Show all posts

Friday, December 4, 2009

My Deep Blues Manifesto

Attention Deep Blues bands, acts and fans. I have that bug and am loud and obnoxious enough to preach the Deep Blues gospel to any and all who will listen.


I have nothing but respect for my predecessors Robert Mugge and Robert Palmer (not that Robert Palmer) not to mention Chris Johnson, Roger Stolle, and the many other supporters who have proceeded me. I am clearly not inventing a new wheel, just trying to help keep that wheel going forward (especially in this not-so-receptive New England market).


If you are still reading, here is my ‘Deep Blues Promotion Manifesto’


Everything under the ‘Deep Blues’ genre to the BBBBBQ Blog will not receive a stellar review.

  • If I don’t like the material, I’ll tell you why
  • Sorry, instead of “keeping the blues alive mantra” I only want to keep good blues alive



I have no initial intentions of making money off of your music.


  • I do this for the passion of the music and the passion for cramming my musical opinion down the throat of some ‘Ernie and the Automatics’ fans
  • And, it is your music



Every CD issued to the Boston Blues Brews and BBQ blog will be treated with the utmost respect


  • All disks issued to the BBBBBQ will be reviewed.
  • The review will be first offered to the Boston Blues Society
  • If the BBS does not pick up the review, reviews will be published on the BBBBBQ Blog
  • All disks offered up to the BBBBQ Blog will be offered up to potential ‘Deep Blues’ fans



So if this is of interest to any fans, bands, or labels though I am a somewhat shadowy and sometimes drunken figure I am not a hard man to find.

Best,


Georgetown Fats

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Nine Shots with The Ten Foot Pole Cats

Nine Shots with the Ten Foot Pole Cats

By Georgetown Fats



Whether at a martini bar or a gutbucket saloon, the right bribes and name-drops never fail to help one gain access. That is how I wound up in the back room of this local blues joint. It shall remain nameless, but it’s the type of hangout where several different smokes fill the air, fire codes are laughed at and ambiance is provided by bare light bulbs hanging from the ceiling.


What sounded like a good idea at the time—challenging Jim Chilson of the Ten Foot Pole Cats to their version of beer pong—quickly became a regret. When I asked how they played, drummer Dave Darling offered only a maniacal laugh while filling cups with what seemed to be white lightning. Vocalist and harp player Jay Scheffler grabbed the house mic, assumed the role of color commentator and let the assembled miscreants know what was at stake. If I won the match I would be given an advance listen to the Pole Cat’s follow-up to their Sterno Soup EP, which is as-of-yet untitled and scheduled for release sometime this fall. If I lost Chilson would be claiming my soul, which on that day meant my ’59 Fender Bassman reissue.


When he opened the match by sinking his first three ping-pong balls into my cups I knew I was in a lot of trouble. There would be no joy in Georgetown. As my mouth dried out and consciousness drifted, I said my peace and wished "Blondie" the best with her new owner.


When I woke the next day, my bloodshot eyes focused on "Blondie" and a blank disk labeled "Raw Tracks - Ten Foot Pole Cats - Scheduled Release - Fall of 2009." Due to the liquor I can’t be sure if I beat the champ or not, or if the showdown even happened at all. All I’m sure of is that I have a copy of the tracks for their new release and it is good. It is damn good.


Sterno Soup garnered the Ten Foot Pole Cats bookings nationwide, opening for “Steady Rollin'” Bob Margolin and deep blues artist Scott Biram. It also helped expose them to new audiences with invitations to the Deep Blues Festival in Minneapolis and punkabilly shows in Boston and Worcester; shows where most blues bands will not ask—nor be asked—to play. From the initial listen of this new release, I expect even bigger and better things in the near future.


The album starts with a string of original tunes. On "So Good To Me, Baby," Chilson lays down a churning mid-tempo groove, Darling pounds on his traps kit and Sheffler howls out lyrics loaded with double entendres. "Tears On My Windshield” epitomizes the Pole Cats sound, where musical lines and solos are only added if they help propel the groove. On "Squeeze" the pretense of double entendres is dropped entirely, leaving just the raunchy musical fun. This music is not for the faint of heart.


"Bar Hopping" picks up the pace considerably and the topic is clearly one close to their blackened hearts. Chilson and Darling lock into an up-tempo deep blues/punk groove while Sheffler rips through a debauched tale worthy of any juke joint.


The album then shifts gears to classic covers. Paying homage to Jessie Mae Hemphill, the Pole Cats offer up "Broken Hearted." In another nod to one of the greats they cover R.L. Burnside's "See What My Buddy Done." Chilson's polyrhythmic work is reminiscent of a time when a bluesman would hop a train with acoustic in hand in search of the next gig, paycheck, woman and bottle. This cover is as appropriate for the punkabilly crowd as it would be if the trio caught a steam train headed north.


I was concerned that a recorded version of Tommy Johnson’s “Big Road” would lose the magic that whups a lifeless crowd into a sweaty dancing throng, but my concern was unfounded. Short of including a stale-beer-and-whiskey-scented Yankee candle with the track, all of the charm is on the album. On T-Model Ford's “Chickenhead” Chilson's opening guitar salvo mimics a train whistle while Darling offers subtle accents on drums. As the tempo picks up Sheffler professes his love for all parts of the chicken.


The final track is Charley Patton's "Peavine." Patton is considered by many to be the "father of delta blues" and the Pole Cats have both the musical chops and the knowledge to pull off his music. "Peavine" is an ode to longing for a lost loved one and their rendition is a fitting tribute to the man who inspired both John Lee Hooker and Howlin’ Wolf.

If these first nine tracks are any hint as to what will be available on their full-length release then the delta blues are not dead; they have just plugged in and relocated to Allston. The Ten Foot Pole Cats have ignored the general consensus on the blues scene by stripping down their sound and offering deeper blues covers. This makes them likeable to the diehard blues fans for their discerning taste and to fans of other forms of roots and punk music for their aggressive, unyielding style.


Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Quick Hits

Let’s start the Quick Hits today by revving up the self promotion machine.


  • Blues, brews and BBQ make me as happy as a pig in shit, or the late Michael Jackson at a Cub Scout Jamboree (too soon?). There is just something real good about a debauchery, especially the Thirsty Thursday before I turn 3-5.Hell, whip in some gambling and we’re talking religious experience. The Growlers - Half Loaded Duo will be the featured artists at The Farm’s Blues, Brews & BBQ session tomorrow night. We’re looking forward to the new venue, and the new crowd. If I can keep Nigel away from the ribs and smoker long enough we’re probably talking one hell of a night. There is also a good chance we will talk new Growler Dre’ Reust into coming down and laying down some of the low end acoustic work. Should be a great night in my old home town of Essex, Ma.


  • The 10 Ft Polecats are back from the Deep Blues Festival. Welcome home boys, looking forward to seeing the uncensored pictures from the Deep Blues Festival.


  • Blind Billy checked in to say a good time was had by all the new Stone Soup in Ipswich.


  • While watching “The Cleaner” on A&E, there is a story about two twin red heads who are junkies. One is a hooker on smack, another is Harvard educated chick. The Harvard Chick keeps referring to the mother character as “Her Mom-mee”. Now I have a weakness for redheads, but the whole whining thing.....oh GAWD no. This just proves, no matter how attractive a woman is there is still a guy who won’t put up with their shit.


  • Matt Stubbs is headed back out to California to do some more work with Charlie Musslewhite. Safe travels Matt, and knock ‘em dead. I’ve you’re out West, or have a chance to catch Matt & Charlie play live sell your closest relative to get to this show.


  • Having just finished reading Robert Palmer’s (not THAT Robert Palmer) “Deep Blues”, I wanted share a passage with you. As part of an interview in 1974 with Rolling Stone, Clapton told a story about getting dropping some acid before hitting the stage with The Dominoes. Every time he played a bluesy lick his guitar turned into into rubber while the crowd turned into devils. When he played a sweet lick, the audience turned into angels. It was an that point he decided to clean up his act and play pop. Now I don’t begrudge anyone their sobriety or their right to play pop crap, I’m just wondering how Clapton gets all this credit for being a blues guy when he hasn’t played blues in 36 years?