LUCK: OF THE DRAW

 

I’m a big fan of Bonnie Raitt. Always have been, from long before her eventual break through, the one heralded, I guess by the song that entitles this piece. Before then she was a doe-eyed vixen who confused the biz as where best to place. Sure, the blues was her bag, but, in the 1970s blues was not deemed the domain for wee slip of a girls from Burbank, California. Yes, she was admired for her bluesy based formula, drawing in roots from folk, country and rock music, but nobody much bought her records. Being also, in her earlier years, a bit of a booze hound led, sometimes, to an inconstancy of performance that perhaps baffled and beguiled those responsible for her career, with any number of producers throwing different prisms her way, through which her light might get seen to shine.

Making her live debut on stage at the 1970 Philly Folk Festival with Mississippi Fred McDowell perhaps 

accentuated the quandary, the contrast between the grizzled old bluesman and the fresh faced girl somewhat remarkable. Her first solo release followed a year later, critics recognising her star, her bottleneck guitar play already to the fore, together with her distinctly yearning vocal timbre. Success, however took a while, it taking seven years, six albums and five producers before anything like a hit. And, when it came, a cover of Del Shannon's 'Runaway', it wasn't even all that typical, a, frankly, boogie by numbers chug, a very good boogie by numbers chug, mind, but it got her her hit single 

 

Now signed to a major deal, this should have been plain sailing, but their expectations were higher than her sales, resulting in a brutal dump, shortly after the completion of what would have been her 9th album, were it not shelved. Without a label, and despite her affinity for substance abuse getting increasingly in on the act, her profile was kept high by touring and activism: if there was an 'Aid' between 85 and 88, the chances are she was involved, so Sun City, Amnesty International, Farm Aid. But her luck outed, or maybe her determination, as, by 1987, she was clean and open again for record deals. Capitol signed her and 1989 saw 'Nick of Time', a presciently entitled LP if ever was, sweep her to overnight superstar. I guess the time was right for efficiently smooth grown up music, with enough experiential heft to be valid to a market then beginning to open the boundaries of what might be considered marketable. Her 10th record, not only did it dent the charts, it hit the top, becoming, in time, 230/500 in the Rolling Stone list of all time. With the title track her own, along with two others, the rest was a shrewd mix of songs by other artists of more pedigree than presence; John Hiatt and Jerry Lynn Williams for two. And what a stellar cast of musicians: Crosby and Nash, Don Was and the Was Not Was singers, Herbie Hancock. And the first appearance of her later near constant rhythm section, Hutch Hutcherson on bass and the ex-Beach Boy, Ricky Fataar, on drums. A great album. And let's not forget her duet, 'I'm in the Mood', with John Lee Hooker, for which they gained a Grammy, for his late life smash, 'The Healer'.

But, astonishingly, not as great as the next, the one that inspired this piece. I'm biassed, of course, but not alone, as it did even better, sales wise, than its predecessor. Why my greater love? Down, actually to the choice of songs. Again, a mix of hers and those by celebrated writers in their own right. So, with four of hers, there are another John Hiatt, a Womack and Womack, a Chip Taylor and two by fricking Paul Brady, including the title track. I should add I was on a big Brady binge at this sort of time, so for her to be playing his songs was enough to guarantee my attention. It also included the song, which has become most associated with her, much re-covered subsequently, if never quite so well, the sublime 'I Can't Make You Love Me'. She also provided a cover of Richard Thompson's 'Dimming of the Day' round about this time, for the tribute album, 'Beat the Retreat', which I habitually include as part of LotD, when I play it on my laptop. Paul Brady and John Hiatt were among guest musicians this time, as was Thompson, so getting on for being a dream team. I remember buying this disc in 1991, and it still holds up a a personal favourite. I'll bet it also Brady's, he continuing as a presence throughout the rest of his career, adding songs, having his own profile (and income) boosted as a result.

Seven albums have followed, allowing her to crest the wave of acclaim she had found. If never quite as successful as the double whammy of 'Nick' and 'Luck', she has maintained an elegant presence, a stateswoman for the blues and the older woman in rock music. I saw her live, for the first time, some time before the pandemic, 2016, actually, I discover with a shudder, and she was terrific. As was her Fataar and Hutchinson inclusive band, with the great George Marinelli her now regular guitar sidekick. Realising it was so long ago alerts me to the fact she tours the UK again next year. I should go. Before she does, to capture that skill, her effortless guitar, a slide to die for, and that voice, the elixir of smoke and honey.

Let's finish with Bonnie and Richard, hoping their day never dims.....

I can't make you love her, but....

Bonnie.

(BABY COME) BACK

 "Phew, what a scorcher" is the traditional newspaper headline whenever the UK "swelters" in balmy tropical temperatures of 30 degrees. That's 86 in the transatlantic money, and today, now yesterday, it is supposed to hit that. Already a bit warm and muggy, praise be I am not at work, and can so wallow in it. Part of the process is always to find some applicable and appropriate music to soundtrack the experience. I had even forgot I had this, so it was a delight to rediscover. 

It actually hit 32, so try it for size:

Kidjo has become quite the doyenne of so called World music, using her Beninese roots as a template to merge and meld into a melting pot of other styles. Had the political situation in her homeland not been so fractured, who knows whether she would have made her name outside the diaspora of her home, so it is, for us, a blessing she relocated, in 1983, to Paris, the de facto capital of African music worldwide. A bevy of releases have emerged in her name since 1983, ever drawing in bigger names in production and collaboration. Perhaps unfairly, even if I contribute to that, she is better known for her cover versions rather than her own material, or, even, the material of Africa, even if she imbues suchh covers with as authentic a pan-African sheen as can be contrived. Recent years have seen, successively, tributes to the Talking Heads'  Remain In Light and to the grande-dame of salsa, Celia Cruz. But her most recent release was a return more to where she started, 2021's Mother Nature, wherein she shares the spotlight with a slew of young African music makers, as well as a few older peers. (O, and Sting?!)

Voodoo Chile (Live)

Omon Oba

But what of the song that defines this piece? Remember it? I certainly do, being especially taken with it, as a small boy devouring the charts on Top of the Pops.

The Equals were an unusual feature back in the mid to late 60s, being multi-racial, part white british and part african-caribbean. Schoolfriends from a North London housing estate, they had a run of singles, none proving quite as successful as this one. Initially released in 1966, as a B side, it became a hit in continental Europe before being flipped in the UK, becoming a 1968 chart topper. Across the atlantic it fared less well, if still a credible 32 on the Billboard chart. The writer and the main focus of the group was one Eddy Grant, who had a later resurgence of fame in the late 1970s and into the 80's as a solo act and a run of successful singles. Only the churlish would point out they all, to some extent, had broadly the same tune.

I Don't Wanna Dance

There have been a fair few cover versions over the years, most of whom offer little than some 'updating' with rap or grime filters, each dating far more swiftly than the simple exuberance of the original. I did, however, dig out a copy that is a little unexpected and, thus, worth the play. I give you, from 1982, Ms. Bonnie Raitt:

(Well, I didn't say it was any good!!)

The first and the best.

UPDATE: It is raining today and temperatures have plummeted, if not quite to "Brrr, Britain Freezes" levels.

Only: Not The Only One

 

purchase [ Luck of the Draw  ]

Bonnie Raitt ranks very high among my favorite musicians, slide players and vocalists, but I have said that again and again here.

50 years since her first album, this past April she released her latest album <Just Like That> which her website says is her 21st, and is back on the road - in TN and NC the week of this posting. Again, from bonnieraitt.com, it appears that the new album and "Made Up Mind" are finally bringing her the kind of recognition she desereves beyond people like ourselves who already know how good she is. There is an interview with her in April's Variety where she notes that some of the intention behind the album was to share music of/by/with musicians who may not be around all that much longer. (see Living For the Ones)

When we decided this theme, I had not cheked to see if in fact the songs of choice had aready been covered here. At the time my thoughts were more back with Dave Mason's Only You Know and I Know, which kind of acts as a bridge to the theme. Oh, and also a question in the back of my mind:

why do we pronounce one as wən but only as ˈōn-lē. And why do we combine them in the saying "one and only"? If, like myself, words interest you as much as music, have a quick look at some etymology here.

But this is off the track we should be on: the song Not the Only One, one of a couple of songs from 1991's Luck of the Draw by Paul Brady. And Paul Brady is a musician whose history is worth a trip down this link to learn more: 

Brady appears to have released the song back in 1983.

Here it is with Brady together with Raitt

pretty much not on topic but - hey it's got the one and only bonnie, it's live and it's a great collaboration with the one and only Keb Mo'

JAZZ COVER: BILL FRISELL

The suggestion offered from above was to look at covers of jazz standards, you know the sort of thing, bluegrass Brubeck, country Coltrane and math-rock Miles. (OK, I may have struggled with the last, but you catch my drift.) Me, I immediately thought of the current glut of polyglot artists, nominally 'file under jazz', but equally at home cross piste. I'm thinking the likes of Brad Mehldau, Herbie Hancock and, most of all, the extraordinary guitar of Bill Frisell.

Tired of Waiting For You/Guitar in the Space Age: Bill Frisell (2014)

Frisell is an unlikely looking axe-hero, but axe-hero he is, and, whilst always thought primarily a jazzman, you may be surprised how far he crosses over and how many records by artists in the fields he has appeared on. Far more, say, than Pat Metheny, who is a name often dropped into great guitarist lists, yet seldom strays from his niche, give or take a sole dalliance with Queen and being the subject, loosely, of a Richard Thompson song. Yet, ironically, it is to Metheny he owes his place, depping for Metheny when Metheny unavailable for a session, he suggesting the bright eyed novice with tousled hair to take his place.  This was for the icy wastes of ECM, the sometimes seemingly dour Nordic label that is the go-to for glacial instrumental jazz, instantly identifiable by their 'postcards of the tundra' album covers. A number of albums with them, ahead of hooking up with John Zorn on the New York scene, all avant garde and spiky composition. But being an in-demand musician for other muses and producing like-minded material wasn't enough. So, on a move to Seattle, Frisell started cooking up something new, investigating, variously, other native musical forms: americana, rock, pop even.

This century he has spent flitting relentlessly between projects: a torrent of his own composition, further expeditions into idiosyncratically exploring and totally revising the music of others and, most delightfully, beginning to pop up in the mainstream, alongside artists such as Elvis Costello and Norah Jones. At the time of writing he has 39 recordings in his own name or as an integral part of the billing, 22 since the year 2000. Add in a series of live recordings and it another 22, plus a truly ridiculous number of collaborations, guest appearances and cameos. Check out his web page. (Bet you wouldn't expect him to have ever worked with Richard Hell and the Voidoids!)

For want of any other methodology, here are a few of his covers, whether coming from his own records, from collaborations or any other source, all displaying his maverick control of the fretboard, approaching melody always from its polar opposite, yet always finding it, often unexpectedly. A beautiful tone, this is sweet music: no atonal skronking here to frighten those with terror of the J word.

You Only Live Twice/When You Wish Upon a Star: Bill Frisell (2016)

Across the Universe/All We Are Saying: Bill Frisell (2011)

Cold Cold Heart/The Willies: Bill Frisell (2002)

I Heard It Through the Grapevine/East,West: Bill Frisell (2005)

Magnolia/Down Where the Spirit Meets the Bone: w. Lucinda Williams (2014)

Standing in the Doorway/Slipstream: w. Bonnie Raitt (2012)

As Tears Go By/Slipstream: w. Marianne Faithfull (1987)

And spot the great man, playing, in the video above.

More, here....

Hidden Places: End of the Innocence

 

purchase [ Henley;s album of the same name]

Sometimes what is not stated is as clear as what is. Sometimes a place not mentioned is as obvious as one clearly labelled.

There are songs that list all sorts of cities that are not in the title: my first thought was "Yeah. >Willin'< - the classic Lowell George/Little Feat piece' ". The song IDs cities all over the US West, not a single one of them in the title.  And the song has been covered by any number of musicians. But ... it has also been covered here (tho our 2009  post from "Susan" did not include Gregg Allman's 360 studio session video that is fun to check out: good music and the panoramic presentation is kind of cool.)

But.. that song has been covered here. So ... something that appears not to have been brought up here before. That said, Don Henley and Bruce Hornsby have appeared @ SMM previously, but not for  this one.

<End of the Innocence> references an un-named "small town" with tall grass untouched by man beneath a deep blue spacious sky. Clearly in the USA (O' beautiful for spacious skies), not in a city, but rather somewhere in the heart of America. It is also a cry for a time lost.

Various music critics note Henley's disallusionment with the state of affairs at the end of the 1980s - the end of the 1960s/70s movements to fight for a better world having fizzled. The song revolves around these sentiments: plowshares into swords ... repeated references to lawyers ... tired old kings ... armchair warriors. A pretty bleak picture.

But - there's a place we can go. It's hidden. It must remain hidden to keep it free of cares, untouched by man and not poisoned by fairy tales.

The clip below has a whole bunch of my guitar heroes, BTW, and tears come to my eyes every time I listen.

SPIRIT: SPIRIT WORLD/STEPHEN BRUTON

The name of Stephen Bruton may be known to fewer than those who have heard his songs, and, if and when then, possibly when sung by others rather than by him. I was sort of amazed he hasn't previously had a shout here, given the love of roots oriented musics: blues, folk, country, in the many and various scribes who have written for the site over the past decade and more. If you like a bit of Willie or Kris Kristofferson, the chances are that you are familiar with his work. With a style that effortlessly bridges the oeuvres above, it is when he plays his own that the class really outs, aided and abetted by his lifetime perfecting his precision on guitar. Perhaps it was the experiences of working as Kristofferson's right hand man for nigh on twenty years, ahead of a similar role with Bonnie Raitt, that imbued him with such apparent ease with a song. And I can't help but feel, had he not died from the throat cancer that beset his last few years, that he would have become better known. But he did, in 2009, aged 60.

Spirit World is both the name of the featured track, and of the record it comes from, his fourth solo release, in 2002, on the prestigious New West record label, always a reliable home for quality americana and roots. Especially if you happen, like Bruton, you come from Texas. If you like a loping swagger down dusty byways, perhaps stopping to slake your thirst in a beat-up roadhouse, this is probably music you will like, and his other records have more of the same. Live? Well, his would be the sort of band booked to actually play that roadhouse. Here's the same song in a live setting.

Something I didn't know about him was his involvement with the soundtrack of Crazy Heart, the award winning film about a down and not quite out country singer, wedded to the bottle, ahead of being rescued by the love of a good woman. So far, so cliche, except it wasn't quite that simple, the good woman being a music journalist and happy ever after remaining, arguably, elusive. But, with Jeff Bridges, who blagged a deserved oscar for his portrayal, and Maggie Gyllenhaal, any tawdry sentiment is transcended. Based on a book, itself based loosely on singer Hank Thompson, many of the set pieces in the film are embellished with the real life experiences, on the road, of Bruton, himself a recovering alcoholic. (And, even if this weren't true, the character Deacon Clayborn, in the TV series Nashville, actually was certainly based upon him.) The job of the soundtrack was given to T.Bone Burnett, his first call being then to enrol his life-long buddy Bruton to the task, despite already his cancer biting hard. The bulk of new material for the movie was written by the pair of them, although Bruton was not to see the official release. He died at Burnett's home, so closely were they working, even right up to the end, this being six months ahead of the opening.( Here is one hell of an article, telling his tale so much better than can I. And please note the comments around his becoming, on attaining sobriety, a tireless rescuer of livers, rather than any lasting pitiful drunk.)

Somebody Else/Jeff Bridges (Crazy Heart soundtrack)

Somebody Else(instrumental)/Stephen Bruton (Crazy Heart soundtrack)

There are a host of similar artists I love, dependable names in, usually, second billing, or third, to more lauded souls, yet providing the ballast that boilers the bigger name. Sometimes the accolades come, often they don't. I am thinking of Sonny Landreth and the late Neal Casal, journeymen players and singers, often overlooked in the chase for a bigger story. Do yourself a favour. Look 'em out.

Get Spirit here.
And Heart there.

Un-Sainted Nicks: Bonnie Raitt's Nick of Time

purchase [Nick of Time]

Well ... here's a new word for you that you probably won't ever need, but if you were to remember to pull it out at the right time, it might impress someone.
hypocorism: a nickname that shows affection that can include both major alterations to the original (calling your sweetie "possum") or abbreviating Nicholas to "Nick". Ever wonder if they called Khrushchev "Niki"?

A search of the Intertubes will provide the dedicated researcher with lists of musicians with the first name Nick, and a deeper search can call up others that have some form of Nick somewhere in their full names, and that's all well and good. And then there are songs or albums that incorporate those four letters in that order somewhere within, as in <Nick of Time>.

If you have followed my posts over the years, you already know my lasting affinity for Ms Bonnie Raitt. About Raitt, I've posted, Seuras has posted, Darius has posted ...

Nick of Time was her 10th album and it includes a number of collaborators you'd be likely to recognize in their various roles. Among the better known:
Herbie Hancock
Michael Landau
Don Was (who also produced)
David Crosby
Graham Nash
It's a pretty long list of credits, and you might well know more of them than those I chose to list from my own limited experience.

The album got a ton of awards: Grammy's Album of the Year, inclusion in Rolling Stone's 500 greatest, but for some reason, never in my list of favorite Raitt works (I think that'd be <Give It Up>).

Although John Hiatt doesn't play on the album, one of his songs is included, and I choose that, in part because I included a Hiatt song back in out Spring <Steps & Stairs> theme

So ... this, partly for the purpose of comparisons of sorts: Hiatt in different hands sounds like this ...?

Trick/Treat: Bonnie Raitt-No Way To Treat a Lady

purchase [Nine Lives]


In the end, not one trick or one treat, but two treats. Oh well...

Halloween is well behind us as this SMM theme wraps up, but as we prepare to move on the the next "holiday" theme, another treat:

The dark side of Halloween is that if you don't get your candy, you treat the hosting party with a trick - toilet paper decorations or worse. There's no rule that you have to treat the host so bad, but ... it's part of the Halloween deal: a treat or a trick.

Since I live fairly deeply within a Muslim culture which seems particularly attuned to the notions/traditions wherein you/your family are expected to reciprocate/give tit-for-tat or live under the cloud of social debt, I [think] I am attuned to these social balances.

Related to Halloween trick or treating: you don't send your kids out if you aren't prepared to give to those who show up at your door - not so different from the Moslem culture of pay-back, is it?

I was brought up under the [rather Christian/missionary] mantra of <Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.>, but in fact, it's not so Christian as I first assumed: most religions espouse some version of the same pay-back message: you reap what you sow: your next life depends on what you have done in this...  I think that's what the Beatles "discovered" in their trip to India/Nepal/Buddhism.

Bonnie Raitt's <No Way to Treat a Lady> says a lot in its title. Consider the role Bonnie Raitt has played though-out her career, and you might imagine the stages/situations she's been through: likely no less than a few #MeToo moments to get to where she is.

Songwriting credits for the song, according to the liner notes, go to Byran Adams [who? No, not who: Summer of '69]

The Nine Lives album is not/was not one of Raitt's best, and there are a lot of reasons for this - but the extensive lineup of musicians who contributed attests to her stature: Tower of Power, Bill Payne, Russ Kunkel, Michael Landau, Dean Parks, Leland Sklar, Christine McVie of Fleetwood Mac and about another 20 who contributed to the album. That said, it's perfectly decent musical treat that I think you might enjoy.

TRICK/TREAT: MAMA, HE TREATS YOUR DAUGHTER MEAN

Change of heart here, I was originally going to do a treat track, something looked forward to, held with relish. Then I heard this, by chance, on i-pod shuffle, by Ruth Brown, remembering what an unsung talent she was, a holding post between the raw blues of Bessie and the smoother soul of Aretha, in the relative early 50s graveyard of popular music, missing most of the peak genres littered before and after. Uncertain where to place her, jump jive or straight forward big band r'n'b, with the emphasis on b, I think she needs more listens.

This song, a traditional good girl done bad belter, was based upon a song heard by the song's authors and which included the title, so the standard semi-plagiarism that has bedevilled any blues based music to this day. Ruth Brown, already successful, requested it sped up a bit, whereupon she took it to a 1952 no.1 on the r'n'b Billboard chart. (Re-recorded a decade later, she took it to 99 in the full chart.) Personally, I can do without the yelps in the original, but I prefer the full big band arrangement to the later more standard happy-clappy version.

So what of Ruth Brown? Born in 1928, she was an early recipient of the Queen of r'n'b crown, following a string of singles during the early 50s, themselves helping define Atlantic records as a label of discernment in such areas. However her star faded as the 60s beckoned, spending her time quietly in suburbia. The mid 70s saw a resurgence in her career, predominantly as an actress in films such as the iconic 'Hairspray', playing Motormouth Maybelle Stubbs, a character prominent in black (music) rights. This was then something she addressed in real life, being responsible for the idea of the Rhythm and Blues Foundation, which still fights for the royalties and rights of african-american musicians in the field of r'nb. On the back of this she revived her own musical career, touring more or less until she couldn't, dying in 2006 at the age of 78. You can see her supporting Bonnie Raitt on Raitt's 1995 DVD, 'Road Tested', along with, no relation, similar legend, Charles Brown. Listen to the plaudits offered in the voice-over.

The song hasn't exactly faded from sight, being a staple still in blues (and rhythm) circles. Here is a version from 2 decades after the original: Koko Taylor,

and another 2 decades after that: Susan Tedeschi,

Ain't they all a treat?
Indulge.

POSTSCRIPT: I discover Darius of this parish featured this self-same song a mere 9 years ago. Sorry, Bro', but if it's good enough for you.....

Speak/Talk: Let's Give Them Something to Talk About

purchase the whole album! [Luck of the Draw]

There are few living that can play a slide guitar the way Bonnie Raitt does. She's played with them all: Clapton, Duane Allman, Ry Cooder, Lowell George and a number of others. But it isn't just her slide guitar - there's <something to talk about> in her vocals.


Without getting too deep into the #MeToo issue, you can assume that Bonnie Raitt has seen it all. She seems to have weathered it fairly well - I don't see her personal remarks about her man-handling over the years. Yes, she's been the subject of various public broadcasts, but mostly stayed (rightly) UN-affected. Let's Give Them Something to Talk About has gained some notoriety:

I have to note that the song was written by Shirley Eikhard, who you might want to explore, since she's written songs picked up by the likes of Anne Murray and Cher (in addition to Raitt).


Jennifer Love Hewitt

Rae Solomon

Brittney Spears

Cher

KT Tunstall & Daryl Hall

The End: End of the Innocence

purchase [End ]

I've seen cover after amazing cover of this song.
It's a pretty solid song: the lyrics can take you to all sorts of places:

it speaks to the future
it speaks to the end
it speaks to hope

At this time in history - because once it will be history - it's tough not not to get political. I got [too] political in my last post at considerable risk to being shut down (yes, that what happens in some parts of the world when you speak your voice)

What better chance to once again bring the issues to light:
In many ways, the days we are living through ARE in fact the end of our innocence.
Fake News - and worse - is all pushed aside to make room for ... less or worse ... Sudan's drought, N. Korea's nukes.. or things as mundane(!) as the UK's Brexit .. today's news ... WTF have we come to?!?!


How on Earth did Leno manage to bring this group together? It's like my dream team of music:
Jackson, Shawn, Bonnie, Bruce & David - The End Of The Innocence - TV Show

Listen: Hear Me Lord

purchase [Silver Linings]

Time's just about up for the <listen> theme and I confess I haven't found the time to go as deep as I had hoped for this one and I still have to put up the next theme. I could have left it for our traditional <leftovers> theme after Thanksgiving, but .. no. So, I'll take a page from the early days of SMM when many posts weren't much more than: "Here's one for you."

There are famous quotes that say "you hear but you do not listen."
There are others that say "You listen but you do not hear."
Is this any different from the dichotomy between seeing and looking?

I guess it is fair to include a song that includes "hear" but not the listen of the current theme.
Heck ... any song that includes Bonnie Raitt is OK any time.

This one sounds a bit like Paul Simon from Graceland.
Hear Me Lord from Raitt's 2002 album Silver Linings was written by Oliver Mtukudzi of Zimbabwe and you could do worse than to head off down that path for a listen or two.

Incompetent/ Can’t: Can’t Find My Way Home

Blind Faith: Can’t Find My Way Home

[purchase]

I have not been the moderator here for quite some time now. Usually, that doesn’t make much difference, but it does with regards to our new theme. I have some ideas about how to treat the “Incompetent” part, and I will be presenting at least one of those as we move on. But I am not sure what was intended. Perhaps it is better not to know, but rather to put forward one’s own interpretation, which should make this a fascinating theme. But the “Can’t” part is easy enough. Can’t Find My Way Home immediately came to mind, and no wonder. The song is almost fifty years old now, and it continues to be covered in new and interesting ways. That is a fine definition of a classic.

You could say that the song deserves to be obscure. The lyric is barely there, consisting of only one verse and a chorus. The words express a sense of helplessness, and there is no resolution to this, no solace offered. But that is, in a way, the point. For all the idealism of the hippies who embraced the song and made it a hit, there was always a sense that they were fighting something they could not stop, something that was just too big for them. Of course, it did not hurt that the song was by a new supergroup. Blind Faith featured Steve Winwood from Traffic and Eric Clapton and Ginger Baker from Cream, and both of those groups had just broken up. Only bass player Rick Grech, then with the group Family, was relatively unknown. But Blind Faith was not popular just because of their lineup, nor was it simply the fact that they were one of the first supergroups. The talent that came together for this project delivered the goods, and it is ultimately the performance of Can’t Find My Way Home that makes it work, and has made the song an inspiration to musicians ever since. The song has brought together unlikely groupings of musicians for some great performances, so I wanted to include some of those.

Bonnie Raitt with Lowell George: Can’t Find My Way Home

[purchase]

In 1972, Bonnie Raitt was making wonderful blues-based music, but she was far from well known. Lowell George and his band Little Feet were just getting started themselves. Raitt would record her own solo version of Can’t Find My Way Home, although I couldn’t find it on any of her albums. But this version comes from a radio broadcast in New York City. Either Raitt or George could be playing the acoustic guitar or the slide guitar on this one, and there is also an acoustic bass part played by Freebo. This spare treatment really brings out the emotion of the piece.

Allison Krauss and Union Station: Can’t Find My Way Home

[purchase]

Allison Krauss and Union Station are known as a bluegrass group, but that label does not fully describe their artistry. This version of Can’t Find My Way Home honors the song’s roots in blues rock, while also updating the sound in brilliant ways. The recording was done for the TV show Crossing Jordan.

Sheryl Crow with Warren Haynes and Trombone Shorty: Can’t Find My Way Home

[Not Available for Purchase]

As seen here, Sheryl Crow and her band are a part of the jam band scene. She invites Warren Haynes and Trombone Shorty to join them on stage for this one, and Crow’s band supports them ably, with very satisfying results. Crow and her band do not show the elasticity that allowed the Grateful Dead to, for example, segue from Scarlet Begonias to Fire on the Montain, but this is still a strong performance. It makes me wonder why Sheryl Crow has not so far put Can’t Find My Way Home on any of her albums.

MIDDLE: LOVE IN THE MIDDLE/RUTHIE FOSTER

I don't think Ruthie has had a mention in these pages before. She is part of a select coven of female guitar slingers of a distinctive bluesy feel that I adore. Oddly for this genre, and I mean in the "modern" day, so as to avoid upsetting the myriad fans of icons like Sister Rosetta Tharp, she is black. (A quiet pause as I quickly check I am allowed to say that.) But, yes, it is odd, with all the Bonnies and Susans that seem now to epitomise the style, even my old home-town girl prodigy, Joanne. I make this point on neither any grounds of race/ethnicity, nor of blue men (women) sing the whites authenticity, merely an observation.

With a textbook background in a gospel choir dynasty, she took the unusual career choice of a would-be musician and joined the U.S. Navy, honing her chops in forces recruitment band 'Pride'. On de-mob she headed for the big Apple, being wooed, I guess, as a latterday Tracy Chapman, before returning to her roots, both musically and geographically, Texas.

Her first album, 'Full Circle', was self-released, cutting sufficient headwind to be picked up by local label, the combination aptly/ironically titled Blue Corn, for whom she has continued to work, another 6 studio and 2 live sets appearing over the next few years. Awards were also piling up, a Best Contemporary Blues Album Grammy in 2009 being followed by a Best Blues (now not just contemporary) Album in 2012.  Accolades elsewhere are aplenty, continuing right up to the present, earning her a second  Koko Taylor Award for Best Traditional Female Blue artist, in 2016. So, from contemporary to traditional in just 7 years!

Stylistically I think she reminds me most of Robert Cray, although this may more be more how, like him, she has engineered a wonderful earthy soul, R'n'B meets gospel, into the sometime rigidity of the blues. I guess these were always assumptions and understatements within the idiom, the various all arising from the same source(s), but reintroduced and reiterated so as to remind that the child is ever the father to the man. (Have I lost you?)

Recent years seem to see her pushed more as a vocalist than a guitarist. Maybe not as stellar on the instrument, maybe, as her above-mentioned peers, she is no slouch, and I for one prefer the idea and image of her, plugged in and playing. To my eyes there is little less pleasure than the sight of a woman toting an electric, slung low, but that may be too much information.

So have you heard of her? If not, I hope this taster gives you appetite and that, in the middle (SWIDT!) of all these posts you can find space for her Love in the Middle. The song itself comes from 2009's 'The Truth According to Ruthie Foster'.

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Cold: Cold, Cold, Cold

Little Feat: Cold, Cold, Cold

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What this blog needs is more Little Feat. And luckily, they've got just the tune for our frigid theme.

Published on the cusp of the Zeppelin seventies, this Sailin' Shoes deep cut starts with cold tapping iron and then crashes into a stark drumbeat and a sax-and-guitarfuzz riff that totally overwhelm the lyrics. Thanks to a jagged rhythmic offset between one and the other, and some carefully balanced production dynamics, the instrumentation comes off as less a full wall of sound than a set of frozen, disparate, distant elements, even when the chorus kicks in.

The resulting song is an epic representation of the heartbeat of the lonely and abandoned...or the deserted, penniless junkie in desperate need of a fix, if you choose to interpret the "woman" of the song as something bit more metaphoric.

Bonnie Raitt's late-nineties "cover", off an otherwise-solid Lowell George tribute, warms the song up unnecessarily, cranking the dial up past sentimental. But it's still worth inclusion, if only for contrast.

Bonnie Raitt w/ Little Feat: Cold, Cold, Cold

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Early: Finest Lovin' Man

Bonnie Raitt: Finest Lovin' Man

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I'm embarrassed to admit that for most of my adult life, I had no idea that Bonnie Raitt started her career with such a sweet, clear, authentic voice. At least I'm in good company: as Wikipedia confirms, though critics loved her work from the moment her first album hit the scene in '71, it wasn't until her sixth release that she finally began to hit the singles charts.

By then, of course, though she was still only 27, the years of heavy boozing had long taken their toll, leaving her vocals breathy by comparison, and her preference in production had turned much father towards pop-lite. The critics would never sound so strongly in her favor, but the public had spoken, and - given her string of hits ever since - we can only assume she prefers the limelight to the bottleneck blues.

Bonnie has built her career on the lyrics and melodies of others, so it's worth noting that Finest Lovin' Man is one of only two of Raitt's own compositions on her self-titled debut. But the album, which features straight-up blues renditions of well-selected tunes from Stephen Stills, Robert Johnson, Spider John Koerner and others, is redemptive, an effective antidote to all those years of cheesy late-night ballads.

Postage Paid: Love Letter

Bonnie Raitt: Love Letter

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Bonnie Hayes, like so many others, started life as a musician. In the early 1980s, she fronted a pop-punk band called Wild Combo. But, by 1989, Hayes was looking for other ways to pay the bills. She became a studio musician and songwriter for hire.

In 1989, Bonnie Raitt was a blues musician who had enjoyed a minor hit with a cover of Runaway. Active since the early seventies, Raitt had built a devoted following, but never put up the kind of numbers that major labels like to see.

In 1989, the two Bonnies came together. Hayes was hired to write two songs for the album that would be called Nick of Time. One was Have a Heart. And the other was Love Letter. I find it ironic that the bluesiest song on the album that would finally take Bonnie Raitt up the charts was written by someone whose background was in punk and new wave. But there it is. Love Letter is a smoldering blues love song, and a great showcase for Raitt’s slide guitar playing.

In 1996, Bonnie Hayes went back to Love Letter and recorded her own version. I don’t have it, and I have no idea how good it may be, but if anyone else has it, please feel free to post it in the comments.

Cry Cry Cry: Cry on my Shoulder

Bonnie Raitt: Cry on My Shoulder

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Some musical pairings seem obvious in retrospect, but make no apparent sense at the time. In 1988, executive producer Hal Willner was working on Stay Awake, his album of unusual takes on songs from Disney movies. Here were Sun Ra doing Pink Elephants on Parade, Tom Waits voicing the seven dwarves, and Sinead O’Connor on the title track. And Willner had the crazy idea of pairing Bonnie Raitt, known at the time mainly as a blues artist, with Don Was, from one of the strangest groups of the 80s, Was (Not Was). And remember that, to be one of the strangest groups of the 80s, you had to be really strange.

The song was Baby Mine, (heard here during the week of the same name), and the pairing worked amazingly well. So well, in fact, that Raitt tagged Was as her producer for her next album. This was Nick of Time, and the album proved to be Raitt’s commercial breakthrough, after almost twenty years in the music business.

Of course, Cry on My Shoulder comes from Nick of Time. The song was written by Michael Ruff. Ruff is one of those people who is regarded as a “songwriter’s songwriter”. You’ve probably heard his songs without knowing they were his. Besides Raitt, artists who have recorded his songs include Natalie Cole, India Arie, Kenny Loggins, Huey Lewis and the News, and The Doobie Brothers. Ruff doesn’t really tour, never venturing much beyond his native Hawaii. And he is primarily a Christian artist, doubly insuring his distance from the mainstream.

1989: Love Letter

Bonnie Raitt: Love Letter

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From Wikipedia:

Nick of Time [was] released on March 21, 1989.

Nick of Time topped the Billboard 200 chart, selling five million copies, and won three Grammy Awards, including Album Of The Year. In 2003, the album was ranked number 229 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.

Before work began on Nick of Time, Raitt had been courted by several major labels. It was during this time that Raitt met producer Don Was through Hal Wilner, who was putting together Stay Awake, a tribute album to Disney music for A&M. Was and Wilner both wanted Raitt to sing lead on an adult-contemporary arrangement of "Baby Mine" (the lullaby from Dumbo) created by Was. Raitt was very pleased with the sessions, and she asked Was to produce her next album.

Bonnie: "I wanted to make a record that was more like Give It Up. It's a return to roots, as it were. It's been really refreshing for me to play a lot of guitar and just go back to stripped down production... In many ways this is like a first album. It's for a new label and getting all of this attention and critical acclaim. And it's my first sober album. My first single and sober album, being this age and being straight..."

My family had recently moved back to Atlanta from Puerto Rico (see my Love Shack post) and a friend had an extra ticket for Bonnie Raitt at the Fox Theater, with Lyle Lovett and His Large Band opening - he didn't have to ask me twice!

I vividly recall the spirit of the evening, as Bonnie was turning 40 the following day (which means our show was November 7, 1989) - the evening was a celebration of her birthday, her sobriety and this amazing kick-*ss album which finally gained her the commercial success she deserved as well as the personal happiness that had eluded her up to that point.

The album was equal parts growl and girl, empowering yet fragile - the popular video with Dennis Quaid (which seems to have been pulled from YouTube) of John Hiatt's Thing Called Love was a call to action for women to take charge of their own romantic/sexual destiny.

And Love Letter? (more about writer Bonnie Hayes here) - there's a line between hopeful and stalking... and Ms. Raitt's pleading guitar and insistent voice walk it finely (in all definitions of the word)...

Duets: Kisses Sweeter Than Wine

Jackson Browne and Bonnie Raitt: Kisses Sweeter Than Wine

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Kisses Sweeter Than Wine was written by Pete Seeger for his group at the time, the Weavers; (I posted the original version on Oliver di Place a while ago, and the link is still active if you’d like to hear it.) Here, I have chosen a cover version over the original. On the Weaver’s version, Pete Seeger and Ronnie Gilbert sing alternating verses, but all four of the Weavers sing the choruses. But Jackson Browne and Bonnie Raitt perform the song as a true duet, again alternating on the verses, but with just their two voices on the choruses.

Like so many male/female duets, Kisses Sweeter Than Wine is a love song. But Seeger was not simply writing about that first rush of falling in love. The song starts there, but each verse goes another step onward. This is the only song I know of that traces how love grows and changes over a lifetime. .