BBQ/Grill: Mixed Grill

purchase Ray Charles: Mess Around
purchase John Mayall :All Those Heroes
purchase Peter Gabriel :And Through the Wire

Andy La Ray Gun and I are neighbors. His digs are an apartment; mine a secluded house with its own garden. And a decent charcoal grill. As the designated cook of the household, I used to be considerably more dedicated to the grill method, but we’ve cut down on the meat consumption. Well, red meat, that is. The grill for us is primarily a variation for our fish, and the city where Andy and I live is famous for its seasonal fish such as the palamut and the lufer as they swim south through the Bosphorus starting in the fall. Fish season here starts after summer is over, so … it’s grill season for me.

That said, as others here have noted, I belatedly found that although I was able to research and come up with a list of hundreds of songs that include grill or BBQ in the lyrics, there is no small number of them that are actually about teeth grills – and most of them are not familiar to me. Says something about our times or my musical knowledge, I guess.

On the other hand, a little digging produces a number of classics (classics partly by dint of their age) in which the grill we originally meant to feature is a … er, feature … of the song. None of the below are songs about grilling, per se. They just happen to mention that grilling is a pleasant part of life: Take for instance the Ray Charles tune called “Mess Around”. Based on a boogie tune from the 30s/40s, Ahmet Ertegun is credited with writing the song. (Atlantic Records, and a man who would have been well versed in the art of grilling the palamut): “You can talk about the pit barbeque, the band was jumpin’ …” just watch them jump!"

Or, you might relate to John Mayall’s “All Those Heroes …”. You’ll have to listen closely or dig a bit to his tangential reference to “Barbeque Bob Blind Fuller”, but you are sure to relish the man’s ability to transition between vocals and mouth harp. At that age! I was left breathless.

One more similarly tangential reference to grilling pops up in Peter Gabriel’s “And Through the Wire,” where he sings “ barbeque parties on blood red sands…” – your interpretation ... belongs to you.

BBQ/Grill: "Texas Cookin'" and "Hot Dog"

I will admit straight off: I had to go searching for a song to fit our theme this month. Much as I love grilling, I really couldn’t think of any song in particular that dealt with tossing burgers, brats and steaks on the bbq… And, in looking around for tunes to use, and reading about grilling, I realized how much I  miss my grill. I live in the middle of mega-city, all concrete and asphalt, and I can’t really grill here without 1) causing a fire on my balcony, or, 2) smoking out my neighbors. This city of mine isn’t really good for the outdoor kind of cooking I dig. It’s much more about little hobo fires on disposable grills over charcoal on the side of the road…that’s something I suppose, but I dig a nice propane fueled, six burner Weber that I can drive like a tank commander, steaks, sausage, chops and more, all guns blazing, ice cold beer in one hand, tongs in the other. Damn…maybe I need to move to a place with a back yard…? I googled a lot of songs about meat. I also googled “grill” and came up with a lot of pics the look like this…

…uh, yeah…that’s not what I was looking for…

Funny, there are tons of websites that list songs about BBQs, but those lists are all about songs that will make for a great BBQ, aural party favors so to speak. And of course, good tunes do make the party—but, party songs, floor filling sing-alongs, are usually not about eating. Drinking? Yes. There are more rock songs about partying and boozing it up than almost any other topic, but eating seems to take a secondary as a theme to drinking in the anthology of rock n rock lyricism.

That being said, it was kind of fun to seek out food references in music. What comes immediately to mind is Howlin’ Wolf’s brag that he can “..eat more chicken than any man ever seen…” in the classic blues staple “Back Door Man.” That’s a hell of a claim. He talks about “pork ‘n beans”, too. And now I’m getting hungry… So, where else do we find food in our tunes? North Carolina's deep fried rockabilly throw back rockers Southern Culture on the Skids do food well a few times, particularly with "Fried Chicken and Gasoline", but if your drumsticks taste like gasoline, you are doing it wrong, amigo... (SCOTS is a hell of a band, deserving of their own post...next time, perhaps)

How about a song that chooses from the whole menu? Guy Clark’s “Texas Cooking.” I'm going down to save my soul/ Get that barbeque and chili…" Texas is a strange strange, with its strange ethos and self-referential tendencies and seeming dislike for the rest of the country. Politically, I can’t really take the place, but Austin has given the world a great many musical gifts, and while I’m sick of hearing how great the state is, how above the rest of the union the place is, I could very happily eat my way from the gulf to the top of the pan handle and go back for seconds. BBQ, Tex-Mex…? Almost makes you forget about the whole “Don’t mess with Texas” silliness. Clark’s tribute to Texas cooking hits on all the menu options: white gravy, big ol’ sausages, “enchiladas greasy…steaks chicken fried”. It’s pretty much a soul saving journey, with Texas food being the communion that will deliver:  “I'm going down to Austin, Texas/
The course says it all, summing up what all the good ‘ol cooking is going to do: Oh my, momma ain't that Texas cookin' something/Oh my, momma it'll stop yo' belly and backbone bumpin'/ Oh my, momma ain't that Texas cookin' good/Oh my, momma eat it everyday if I could alright 

For a guy like me who lives in a country that doesn’t believe in sausage, and has never really heard of enchiladas, let alone nachos, Clark comes across as preaching Gospel, stomach-rumbling truth…and when one hasn’t had a taco in far too long, Texas cooking just might save a soul.  Hallelujah, and pass the beans. And the rice. And whatever else you got. Guy Clark, "Texas Cookin'"  Watch, live from 1975 And because I’m getting hungry for grilled fare that is distinctly American, I’m going to throw in a bonus track from one of my old time faves, Buck Owens. Twangy rock-a-billy finger popping tunes, Owens is credited with creating the “Bakersfield” sound. And that sound was really just an electric, buzzed up country which borrowed elements from early rock and roll, especially  flashy rhythm guitars and a steady go go go backbeat. Nashville, at the time, was orchestral and overproduced, (kind of like today) and the "Bakersfield" sound, even at an early stage, was looking back to the roots of rhythm. 

Later on, Owens would be associated with the related and refined “Honky Tonk” sound which featured raw finger picking,  twanging Telecasters and pedal steel guitars, but still with that great backbeat and sense of what we would eventually call country rock. Buck is also known for and associated with the TV show “Hee Haw”, but the less said about that, the better… For obvious reasons, I’m including Owen’s 1956 rock-a-billy strutter, “Hot Dog.” (He went by Corky Jones at the time). Starting out with a stair stepping bass line and a roadhouse piano line, “Hot Dog” might not be profound in its lyricism, but it’s got that sweet tangly guitar and the thumpy backbeat that I always think must have been the greatest sound ever heard when rock music first hit the airwaves. I know I’m not talking about food anymore, but what must that have been like, to hear that thumping cadence, drums simmering, guitar and bass ready to pop, leading to a blow up like a burst of fireworks? Must have been amazingly cool to hear that sense of joyful abandon for the first time. “Hot Dog” the song is only called so for the fact that the protagonist’s girl, while totally hot and one of hippest hep cats around, happens to work at a hot dog stand.  She’s a looker, she’s a dancer, she’s an all around teenage dream. And her cumulative effect on the singer is too leave him dumbstruck and incapable of uttering anything more than, “hot dog!” every time he sees her…I can relate. What pretty girl didn’t leave me stumble-dumb and tripping over my own two feet when I was that age?  Buck Owens "Hot Dog"  

Alright, then…I wish you fond listening and hope your kitchen and your grill is hoppin’ tonight with good tunes, juicy treats and if you’re on a diet—which is so not rock ‘n roll!—I hope this post doesn’t make you as hungry reading it as it did me writing it…bon appetite! <  

BBQ/Grill: Pigmeat Is What I Crave

Bo Carter: Pigmeat Is What I Crave [purchase]

I can admit that a perfectly smoked brisket is an amazing thing, burgers from the grill can be great, and smoked chicken wings are wonderful, but at the end of the day, the best meat to barbecue is pork. Pork ribs, smoked until they almost, but not quite, fall off the bone. Pork butt slow cooked until it falls apart into shreds that melt in your mouth. Pork belly cured and magically turned by time, heat and smoke into bacon. There’s nothing better. Although I suspect my kosher grandma is spinning wildly in her grave.

The picture above is from Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint in Nolensville, Tennessee, just outside of Nashville, which is famous for their whole hog ‘cue. They only do that on the weekend, which was unfortunate, because we went there on a weekday night. When we arrived, they were almost out of food—we got the last two racks of ribs, one dry, and one wet, and most of the remaining sausage, leaving pretty much nothing for the poor guy who got on line after us. The food was great, and it was interesting comparing the dry ribs with the wet. I liked them both. A lot.

I’ve cooked a fair amount of pork this summer, mostly St. Louis style ribs and pulled pork, and considering my limitations (not buying fancy meat, using commercial rub and an electric smoker), the results have been delicious, and well received.

There’s something about the blues and barbecue that go together, probably because of their common southern based traditions. There is also a long tradition of blues songs that contain double entendres, and our featured song fits into both categories. Bo Carter, who wrote and performed the song, was really named Armenter Chatmon, and was a member of a well-known Mississippi musical family. But as Bo Carter, he was best known for songs that were meant to titillate, while ostensibly not about sex. A few of his song titles will give you an idea: “Banana In Your Fruit Basket.” “Don't Mash My Digger So Deep.” “Pin in Your Cushion.” “My Pencil Won't Write Anymore.” And "Your Biscuits Are Big Enough for Me." Beyond the sexual innuendo, his singing and guitar playing are also wonderful.

So, while there is nothing in the song that directly would get it banned from a family oriented radio station, I suspect that Bo isn’t talking about pulled pork. If you know what I mean.

BBQ/Grill: GUACHI GUARO

What's that then? Well, actually not anything until you use its alternate name of Soul Sauce, when it becomes something that would definitely liven up any ribs or burgerfest. Originally a Dizzy Gillespie tune, it was all a bit polite in his version, think paper plates and tinned hot dogs, served up at the prom, or that's how it seems all these years on. Actually a co-write with the fascinating sounding Chano Pozo who seems to have given Gillespie his post bebop Latin lilt, it wasn't until it fell into the hands of ace vibraphonist Cal Tjader that it really showed its chops. (SWIDT!)

Tjader was an interesting guy, and one I always assumed to have been Latino. He was actually of Swedish-American stock, and came from a vaudeville family, his father tap-dancing to his mother's piano accompaniment, becoming a tap-dancing prodigy himself in his teens, as well as developing proficiency in both percussion instruments and the piano. Upon demob from the army, he hooked up with Dave Brubeck and Paul Desmond, becoming drummer in their first band, teaching himself vibes and introducing them into the band. Latin influences were now gradually being introduced into the palette of jazz music, and Tjader gradually became drawn more into this sphere. Becoming Downbeat magazine's 1953 best new star on this instrument gave the confidence to start his own band, the Cal Tjader Modern Mambo Quartet. The next decade saw any number of bands and collaborations, with 1964's Soul Sauce, the album and the track, being the pinnacle of his career. Altogether a messier version than the original, this was a shirt-staining, chin-dripping gumbo of a tune, becoming both a radio hit and its parent album being in the years top 50 sellers.

Later years saw some decline, as he experimented with Asian scales and motifs, before a return to a heavier Latin sound, introducing elements of fusion, as well as contributing to the soundtrack of 1972's Fritz the Cat, the animated feature based upon the Robert Crumb cartoon, notably this, Mamblues. He died, whilst out on the road, aged just 56, but his legacy has lived on, through samples, with over 80 samples seemingly identifiable as being of his work, notably by New York hip-hoppers A Tribe Called Quest in their Midnight Marauders.

Buy Soul Sauce

BBQ/Grill: Mexican Radio

Wall of Voodoo: Mexican Radio [purchase]

I like it when a bunch of things come together to inspire a blog post. We’ve been kicking around the BBQ/Grill theme for much of the summer, but it never made the big time. Now, though, as we head into the unofficial end of the summer in the Northern Hemisphere where, I believe, all of our writers live, it was time. You’d think that there would be tons of songs about barbecuing or grilling, which are different things, and while there are a bunch, there don’t seem to be as many as I thought.

Being a stereotypical man, I enjoy cooking outside. For years, I insisted on using a charcoal grill, but a few years ago, I succumbed to the convenience of propane, and while the old charcoal grill sits next to its gas fueled cousin, I rarely have the patience to light the coals and wait for them to burn down to the appropriate ashy white. But, I do have the patience to use my smoker to slow cook ribs, pork butt and chicken (also, occasionally brisket, which is very hard to get right, leg of lamb, the rare Thanksgiving turkey, and even bacon and pastrami). Again, though, I opt for some convenience, using an electric smoker, rather than a wood, charcoal or pellet based contraption that has more street cred, but also takes more work. No one has yet complained about my food because my hickory, fruitwood, oak, mesquite or pecan chunks are burned by a big electric element. I also make a mean cole slaw and potato salad, and a much loved Memphis-style sauce, from a recipe I found years ago in the well-known barbecue bible, Newsday.

I’ve fired up the grill and the smoker a few times this summer, but starting on the Fourth of July weekend, it has been a bit crazier. That weekend, I smoked ribs and chicken wings and grilled chicken thighs for some friends. Shortly after that, we visited Tennessee and Kentucky and ate a bunch of really good ‘cue, which I didn’t have to cook. On our return, I kicked it into gear. Three weekends ago, we had a big family gathering at our house to celebrate a bunch of milestones, including our anniversary, my in-laws’ 60th anniversary, my father’s birthday and my nephew’s birthday. I did ribs and pulled pork in the smoker and chicken on the grill, although the most memorable thing about that gathering may well be the Tennessee whiskey and bourbon tasting. I didn’t even put away the smoker, because the next weekend was a party for our daughter, a combination late graduation and buen viaje celebration before she left for Barcelona on a one-way ticket. Not knowing exactly who would show up, and how much they would eat, we went overboard with ribs, wings and grilled chicken, along with a ton of sides and salads. And just today, I committed to a little Labor Day BBQ with some old friends, for which I am currently planning the menu (but pulled pork is pretty much a lock). As hard as it is to get everything just right, I enjoy it—the prep, the process, the eating, and, I admit, the praise.

But what song to write about? Nothing really grabbed me, until I remembered this sort-of hit by Wall of Voodoo, “Mexican Radio.” Like most of their songs, it is atmospheric and strange, and includes the memorable line:

I wish I was in Tijuana 
Eating barbecued iguana 

Research has indicated that barbecuing is an accepted way of cooking this large reptile, if not the most popular.

Which brings me to the second thread of this post. I first heard Wall of Voodoo while I was at WPRB—I remember hearing their very odd, ominous cover of "Ring of Fire" (which I thought, erroneously, was a Johnny Cash song). Readers of my work here, and pretty much anyone who knows me, is aware that my 3 and a half semesters working in the basement of Holder Hall has had an outsized influence on me, even if I didn’t go into broadcasting or music. I know that I am far from the only one that the station has affected, and it has been around for a long time. WPRB is currently celebrating its 75th anniversary in operation, making it one of the oldest college stations in the country, and possibly the oldest commercially licensed campus radio station in the nation. In connection with the anniversary, the station’s “educational advisor” (something that the station didn’t have back in my day. And get off my lawn), and others have worked hard to put together a comprehensive history of the station. There is a great blog, wprbhistory.org, on which yours truly is well represented (thanks), and later this month, an exhibit of WPRB history will be opening in the Seeley G. Mudd Manuscript Library on the Princeton campus, somewhere near where my thesis sits, likely unread by any scholars since its deposit there.

If those two threads weren’t enough, as I was thinking about writing this, I looked at The New York Times’ website and saw this story, about the fate of pink iguanas in the Galapagos Islands after the recent eruption of the islands’ tallest volcano. Because if one of those iguanas got too close to some lava, it might find itself like its long-ago eaten relative from “Mexican Radio.”