ESTHER PHILLIPS - HOME IS WHERE THE HATRED IS

When Gil Scott-Heron passed away on Friday, May 27, 2011, I swear the first thing I thought was, "I wonder what he and Esther Phillips will have to say to each other." While Gil could write about the seamy side of life like no one else (eat your heart out, Lou Reed), Esther Phillips lived out the horrid facts of life often detailed in Scott-Heron's songs.

She was born Esther Mae Jones in Galveston, Texas on December 23, 1935. Esther and her family moved to Los Angeles when she was five, and she spent a lot of her time singing in church choirs and talent shows. One such talent show was held at The Barrelhouse Club, which was owned by L.A. R&B pioneer Johnny Otis. Esther won first prize, and Johnny offered the then 13-year-old Esther a spot in his traveling R&B show. She was usually paired with Bobby Nunn of The Robins (later of the Coasters) in duet spots, though she would have the occasional solo spot, billed as "Little Esther". To avoid trouble with the truant officer, Otis would either lie about her age or use the excuse that she was the sister of one of the band members. Either way, this was not the greatest environment for a young teenage girl to grow up in.

In late 1949, Esther was teamed with The Robins (who, along with Johnny Otis, were recording for the Savoy label out of Newark, NJ) at a recording session which produced "Double Crossing Blues". The record became a sensation, and by February, 1950, Little Esther found herself with a #1 R&B hit - she had just turned 14. To this day, she still holds the record for the youngest female to have a #1 R&B hit single (the similarly ill-fated Aaliyah came close in 1994 with her #1 R&B hit "Back & Forth", but she was fifteen at the time). Little Esther was now officially an R&B superstar. "Double Crossing Blues" stayed at #1 for 9 weeks, and her next two singles, "Mistrustin' Blues" and "Cupid's Boogie" (both duets with Mel Walker of the Johnny Otis band) also hit #1 on the R&B charts, and by the end of 1950, Little Esther had seven Top Ten hits on the R&B charts.

Unfortunately, with great success comes great pressures. Little Esther and the Johnny Otis band were in demand EVERYWHERE, and from 1950 to 1953 she toured constantly. Life on the road was rough, to say the least. Traveling between dates was done by bus, not by plane, and the better hotels in any city were not exactly hospitable to black performers, so they had to make do with second-rate accommodations, or, worse yet, had to find their own housing with loyal fans or in rooming houses. Glamorous, eh? The rigors of the road caused performers to find solace anywhere possible; sex, booze and drugs were the name of the game, and Little Esther soon became familiar with all three - and she wasn't quite 16 yet. Esther Mae Jones was a long way from home, and was growing up fast - too fast. "Little Esther" would not do as a stage name, and one night, when the bus was fueling up at a Phillips 66 gas station, she looked at the sign and decided that "Phillips" would be her new last name. It was just as good as any other name she could have picked - at that point Esther Mae Jones, the little girl from L.A. who sang in the choir was long gone, replaced by a performer with no real home, no stability, and no one in her life to guide her down the right path; she might as well have been born in that lonely gas station on the road.

By 1952, 16-year-old Esther was a veteran of the road, had switched labels from Savoy to Syd Nathan's Federal label (mainly because Savoy's owner, the notoriously tight-fisted Herman Lubinsky, didn't believe in paying ANY royalties to performers OR writers), and had become a full-fledged heroin addict. She started a pattern of not showing up for concerts and recording sessions, and though she continued to record, her sides for Federal were just not selling like her earlier 1950 peak. So strung out she could barely stand most of the time, Esther decided to get well. She quit the tour in 1953, made a few singles for Decca, and announced her retirement the next year. She moved back to her home state of Texas, settling in Houston, and from 1954 to 1962 little was heard from Esther Phillips, though she did record a couple of singles for Savoy in 1956 and both the Federal and Savoy labels continued to release records by her up until 1959.

In early 1962, Esther Phillips became acquainted with up-and-coming record producer Lelan Rogers, aka "The Silver Fox". Lelan not only was the brother of future country superstar Kenny Rogers, but would later go on to produce The 13th Floor Elevators, The Emperors (whose "I Want My Woman" is one of the most primitive garage 45s ever released), and would later form the Silver Fox label, under whose imprint he produced Betty LaVette, George Perkins, Eddy "G" Giles and a number of other great soul artists. Lelan had just formed a brand new label with his partner Bob Gans, Lenox Records, and Esther was the first artist signed to the label. Taking a cue from Ray Charles and his very succesful "R&B meets C&W" fusion, Lelan paired Esther with a tune that was originally a C&W hit for Jimmy Heap and Perk Williams in 1954 called "Release Me". Release it they did, as the first-ever 45 on the Lenox label, and not only did it become her fourth #1 R&B hit, but it hit Top Ten on the pop charts, something Esther had never done before. She continued to record for Lenox until the label went belly-up in 1964, then signed with Atlantic, where she had a few more soul hits. She also traveled to England, and appeared on an episode of "Ready, Steady, Go!" with the Beatles, who told Esther that her remake of "And I Love Her" (done, of course, as "And I Love Him") was, in their opinion, the only tolerable outside version of a Beatles' song they ever heard (they were probably just being nice - her version isn't anything special, though it did hit #11 on the R&B charts in 1965).

Unfortunately, the new round of whirlwind success brought back old habits, and by late 1966 Esther again sought help for her heroin addiction, this time at Syanon Treatment Center in Santa Monica, CA. Upon her release in 1969, she made records for Roulette (where she had another hit with a country remake - "Too Late To Worry, Too Blue To Cry") and Epic, and appeared at several jazz festivals.

She was signed by Creed Taylor's Kudu label in 1971, and her first LP for the label, "From A Whisper To A Scream", contained the selection above, which was released as a single in early 1972. It wasn't her biggest hit, but was definitely her most transcendent performance. Gil Scott-Heron's song about a lonely, anguished junkie who is not welcome at his own home (and thus, feels homeless) because of his addiction took on a new poignancy when Esther Phillips sang it. Plus, let's face it, all of the "junkie" songs up to that point were sung by men (including Gil's original version of "Home Is Where The Hatred Is"), so a WOMAN singing about walking the streets, addicted, unwelcome anywhere was even more chilling to listen to.

Esther Phillips had a few more hits (including a disco remake of "What A Difference A Day Makes") and continued to make good records for Kudu, Mercury and Winning Records (no Charlie Sheen jokes, please) into the 1980s. Unfortunately, she also battled her heroin addiction all through the 1970s, and on August 7, 1984, her kidneys and liver finally gave out. Esther Phillips was only 48 years old. I can only hope that she and Gil Scott-Heron are sitting back, wherever they are, sharing their experiences on Earth. Perhaps they're collaborating on a song.......

Esther Phillips - Home Is Where The Hatred Is (Kudu 904) - 1972

THE FLOCK - CAN'T YOU SEE (That I Really Love Her)

Before they became a "heavy" (read: boring) rock band featuring the electric violin (!), The Flock were actually one of Chicago's better garage rock groups. Unfortunately, whenever The Flock are mentioned in any history of rock music, their early singles are cruelly ignored, while their later LPs are written about at great length.

The group started out in 1965, out of Sullivan High School in Chicago. They were a typical cover band of the day, playing everybody's hits in small clubs all over Chicago. One of the things that made the Flock stand out from other groups was that they would cover all kinds of material - they were just as comfortable doing Otis Redding and Wilson Pickett tunes as they were playing "Louie Louie". Plus, they were one of the first white groups in Chicago to incorporate a horn section in their live appearances! For a great interview with Fred Glickstein of The Flock, talking about the early days, click here.

One of the many great things about Chicago in the mid-60s was radio station WLS. Started in 1923 by the Sears-Roebuck Co., the call letters stood for "World's Largest Store". Chicago's Sears Tower is also the world's tallest building (I think; I haven't thumbed through the Guinness Book of World Records lately). WLS (890 AM on your dial) was the station that most of Chicago listened to. But unlike most large stations with tight playlists (WABC New York, anyone?), WLS gave a lot of airplay to local Chicago acts like The New Colony Six, The Buckinghams, The Cryan' Shames, and the Young Chicagoans.

Soon The Flock was signed to the local Destination label, and they debuted with the above 45 in November, 1966. It soon hit the WLS charts, peaking at #23. Unfortunately, outside of Chicago, the record was a stiff. But this is a moody garage masterpiece (and the flip, "Hold On To My Mind", is a good rocker) that should have been a bigger hit than it was.

After two more 45s for Destination (and one for Destination's parent company, USA Records), The Flock were snapped up by Columbia Records in late 1968. By this time the group had added violinist Jerry Goodman to the line-up. They released two LPs on Columbia - The Flock, produced by Brit bluesman John Mayall (yawn), and Dinosaur Swamps. They even had a semi-hit single on Columbia, a remake of the Kinks' "Tired Of Waiting For You", though, interestingly enough, the group credited THEMSELVES for writing the song instead of Ray Davies!! But in 1970, Columbia's Clive Davis decided that The Flock didn't need their lead violinist and convinced Jerry Goodman to leave the group to join with John McLaughlin in the Mahavishnu Orchestra (double yawn). After this trenchant move by Clive Davis (one of the biggest schlock-meisters the music world has ever known), the group, having already recorded tracks for their third LP (which never got released), lost focus and broke up.

The way most folks tell the story, The Flock were a "serious" jazz-rock group who made two brilliant LPs for Columbia in 1969-1970, and oh yes, they had a few early singles in the Chicago area. But in MY little corner of the world, The Flock were a brilliant garage band who later morphed into something weird and freaky, and not in a good way. THIS is the best record they ever made, and I don't give a hoot about what any rock critics say (not that I do, anyway).....

The Flock - Can't You See (That I Really Love Her) - Destination 628 - 1966

GARY U. S. BONDS - THE STAR

Here's a slab of KILLER soul wax!



Gary (U. S.) Bonds (b. Gary Anderson, June 6, 1939) is best known for a handful of great 45s on Frank Guida's Legrand label in the early 60s, like "New Orleans", "School Is Out", "Dear Lady Twist", "Twist Twist Senora" and the bona fide #1 hit "Quarter To Three". But after 1962, he seemed to "go away" until 1981, when he had a bit of a comeback under the tutelage of one Bruce Springsteen. Of course, the story's not quite that simple.....



When Gary Anderson hooked up with Frank Guida in Norfolk, VA in 1959, he was already a veteran of a couple of gospel groups and sang with an amateur group called The Turks. Guida had just started a new label called Legrand (pronounced "le grand") that already had one hit under its belt - the original VA version of "High School U. S. A." by Tommy Facenda (when the record got picked up by Atlantic, poor Tommy had to record twenty-seven more versions of the song to be sold in various areas of the US, since the lyrics name-checked high schools in said areas). Guida also had some brand-new recording equipment, which he wasn't exactly proficient in the use of (at least that's what Gary U. S. Bonds told me when I interviewed him a few years ago), thereby coming up with the ultimate in lo-fi sound! Today he'd be laughed out of the industry by snobby head-up-their-ass recording engineers. Gary Anderson recorded "New Orleans" and "Please Forgive Me" for Legrand in the early summer of 1960, and the record was released in late August. But to Gary's surprise, instead of saying "Gary Anderson" on the label, the song was credited to "By - U. S. Bonds". When Gary went back to Guida to ask, "what the hell?", Guida said that the name was a marketing ploy so that folks would remember to "buy U. S. Bonds" records. Despite this hair-brained scheme, the record became a huge Top Ten national hit, so big that Legrand had to hook up with Laurie Records in NY to take advantage of their distribution system.



But another problem arose; after three hit records ("New Orleans", "Not Me", "Quarter To Three"), the public and the DJs all thought that "U. S. Bonds" was a GROUP, since the records all had a group sound (courtesy of the incredible backing band of Gene "Daddy G" Barge, whose "A Night With Daddy G" 45 - also on Legrand - was the basis for "Quarter To Three"). This didn't sit too well with Gary, so on subsequent releases, the labels read "Gary (U. S.) Bonds".



We all know what happened next - hit after hit followed (many written by Gary), but by 1963 Bonds' records were no longer selling, and he faded from view. However, he did continue to have local hits in the Norfolk, VA area, and worked steadily, doing one-nighters all over the place. He also continued to record for Legrand and write for many of their artists until the label ceased day-to-day operations in 1967 (though Frank Guida continued to release records on his Norfolk International and S.P.Q.R. labels through the 70s and 80s, and even brought back Legrand for a reissue series in the early 80s). It was about this time that Gary (U. S.) Bonds hooked up with the Swamp Dogg.



Jerry "Swamp Dogg" Williams (b. July 12, 1942), also from Virginia, had been making records since 1954 for labels like Mechanic, Loma and Calla as "Little Jerry Williams". He and Gary had been on the same tour circuit several times, and began a writing partnership. Eventually they would write the Grammy-winning song "She's All I Got" for Freddie North (and, one year later, Johnny Paycheck would have one of his biggest country hits with the same song), and soul hits for Dee Dee Warwick ("She Kept On Talking"), Doris Duke ("To The Other Woman, I'm The Other Woman"), The Precisions ("You're The Best That Ever Did It") and Swamp Dogg himself ("Mama's Baby - Daddy's Maybe"). They also did a couple of one-off productions for Gary on labels like Botanic ("I'm Glad You're Back" b/w "Funky Lies") and this Joe Tex-styled stormer, released in 1969. It's a surprise to me that this 45 doesn't go with the "Northern Soul" crowd (probably because it's not "rare" enough for those dummies) - it's one of the best uptempo soul records I've ever heard. But what do I know?



Gary continued to play one-night stands all through the 1970s, until the night in Asbury Park when some scruffy weirdo named Bruce stormed the stage when Gary was on and asked if he could play with him. The best part was that Gary HAD NO IDEA who Bruce Springsteen was! Bruce and his buddy Little Steven produced a pair of hit singles for Gary ("This Little Girl", "Out Of Work"), which allowed Gary to raise his performance fees for a few years. Lately, when Gary's not touring, he does a lot of charity work, bringing food and supplies to people in need all over the world. When I spoke with him several years ago, he could not have been a nicer person, laughing at all the crazy things that has happened to him during his career. So let's all raise a glass to one of rock's true good guys, who keeps on rockin' to this day - check out his website here.



Gary U. S. Bonds - The Star (Atco 6689) - 1969

THE CRAZY GIRLS and THE JAVELINS - JOE, THE GUITAR MAN

Call me jingoistic, but I just can't bring myself to collect foreign-pressed 45s. No matter how much I like the record, I'll never own an original 45 of The Fairies' "Get Yourself Home", because it never came out in the US. Original British pressings of anything do not impress me. If someone offered me all the Beatles original 45s on Parlophone, I'd probably buy 'em and resell them the same day (call me a weirdo, but those Brit pressings are too clean for my ears - I actually like the swampy, noisy American masters of Beatles 45s). Part of it may have to do with the fact that foreign 45s, for the most part, have a small LP-sized hole instead of the big hole that American singles have; I can't hook my thumb through about 20 or 30 of them and carry them around (probably the same reason I despise picture sleeves).

However, I am a SUCKER for foreign rock and roll records released on American labels. You wanna sell me records? Pull out some obscure Brit beat group that got a US release on some weird label like Coral or Smash or Lawn or Interphon and the money will fly out of my hand.

Today's featured 45 is one of my all-time favorites - "Joe, The Guitar Man" by The Crazy Girls and The Javelins, recorded and originally released in Germany. But on September 30, 1963, Capitol Records in the US decided to release the record here.

Like a lot of foreign records released in the US, this one doesn't have the correct title. Capitol was a particularly frequent offender; earlier in 1963, a Japanese singer named Kyu Sakamoto started to get airplay on some US radio stations with his song "Ue O Muite Aruko" (roughly translated: "I Look Up When I Walk") from an imported copy on Toshiba Records. Capitol picked up the track (which was sung entirely in Japanese) but felt that "Ue O Muite Aruko" wasn't exactly a "hit" title. Meanwhile, before Capitol released the song in the US, British trad jazz group Kenny Ball and his Jazzmen covered the song in an instrumental version for the British market, and called it "Sukiyaki", because it was probably the most popular food to come out of Japan at the time, and perhaps the public could relate to "Sukiyaki" a lot better than "Ue O Muite Aruko". Capitol in the US decided to append the British title to the original Japanese recording for the American release. Well, they did it again with the Crazy Girls record! The song is actually a remake of Duane Eddy's hit, "Dance With The Guitar Man", but the girls on the record sang it as "Joe die guitarren mann", literally translating to "Joe The Guitar Man". No matter. This track absolutely COOKS, and whoever the guitarist is in the Javelins, he out-Duane Eddys Duane Eddy himself, with enough reverb to shake concrete walls loose and make Dick Dale run for cover! Unfortunately, by late 1963, hot guitar instrumentals had gone the way of the dinosaur (at least on the US singles charts) and the record - of course - flopped (have I ever featured a record that was a big chart hit? No? There's a lesson in there somewhere).

Listen to the record and enjoy. You may like it enough that you might want to track down an original German 45 (unfortunately, it would be tough to track down, because I suspect that the German name of the group had nothing to do with "Crazy Girls" or "Javelins"). Me? I'll stick with my US copy, thank you very much, and thank my lucky stars that it came out here at all.

The Crazy Girls and The Javelins - Joe, The Guitar Man (Capitol 5050) - 1963

DON DURANT - SEAL ROCK

I haven't posted anything goofy in a while (heck, I haven't posted in a while), so here's one of my favorite slabs of weirdo wax - "Seal Rock" by Don Durant.

I first discovered this tune from an old aircheck of Mad Daddy on WJW Cleveland in 1958. If you're not familiar with the Mad Daddy story, he was an absolutely BRILLIANT disc jockey (yeah I know....that's a contradiction in terms) who basically took over the Cleveland/Akron area when Alan Freed left to go to New York. Mad Daddy's real name was Pete Myers, and he was a wild man on the air, talking a mile a minute and (at the same time, mind you) rhyming EVERYTHING he said. He also put his voice through an eerie echo, courtesy of tape delay. He broke many important artists in the Cleveland area, and was the first to champion Andre Williams and the Fortune label outside of Detroit (Andre's "The Greasy Chicken" was a fave of Mad Daddy's). After a year at WJW, Mad Daddy broke his contract and switched to Cleveland's most powerful station, WHK, where he had the station's highest-rated show, playing his special brand of rock and roll that he sometimes called "wavy gravy".

After a year at WHK, Mad Daddy was ready for the big time, and asked to be transferred to WHK's sister station in New York, WNEW-AM, following Alan Freed's example (Freed started in Akron, at WAKR, moved to WJW, where he became immensely popular, and then to WINS and WABC in New York). It was about this time that Freed started having trouble with the payola scandals, and so Mad Daddy felt the time was right to make the jump to New York. He arrived there in July, 1959, to do his first Mad Daddy show on WNEW.

Unfortunately, Myers/Mad Daddy gravely miscalculated NY radio audiences. In Cleveland, he could jump to any station he wanted to and the kids would follow him, no matter what the station played the other times of the day. But in New York, there was a more standard line of demarcation. People tuned to certain stations to hear certain types of music, and that was that. If you wanted to listen to rock and roll in New York, you tuned to WINS, WMCA, or WABC (and WNJR if you were on the Jersey side). WNEW was a "beautiful music" station, which played the "pop" hits of the day by folks like Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Johnny Mathis, etc. The hoi polloi of New York society made WNEW their choice of stations. Imagine their surprise when they tuned in on July 4, 1959, and heard this maniac ranting and raving, playing crazy records that even Alan Freed wouldn't touch, and screaming lines into the microphone like, "my show is never dull, as long as the winky light burns in my SKULL!" The phones lit up at the station, but not in a good way - complaints came in by the hundreds, asking who this crazy person was and why was he allowed on the air? After that show, management had a talk with Mad Daddy. He was no longer allowed to broadcast under that persona, and would strictly adhere to WNEW's regular playlist, under his real name, Pete Myers.

Since WNEW had an iron-clad contract, Myers shut up and did what he was told. But when the chance came in 1962 to resurrect his Mad Daddy persona on WINS, he jumped. So, for 2 glorious years, Mad Daddy was on the air in New York. Unfortunately, by then the music had changed, and so did radio. Myers couldn't program the wild, weird records he found, because radio had tightened up in the wake of payola. He still did amazing radio, but without the craziness of the music, the Mad Daddy show wasn't quite the same as it had been in Cleveland. He was still an innovator, though - he was one of the first DJs to discover The Beatles (along with Murray The K and B. Mitchel Reed), and traveled to England to meet the group.

Unfortunately, Mad Daddy's days on radio were numbered. Westinghouse/Group W Broadcasting, who owned WINS, decided in late 1964 to switch the station to all-news (as it remains to this day), starting in April, 1965. It must have been the world's worst-kept secret, because both Murray The K and Mad Daddy resigned toward the end of 1964. Mad Daddy/Pete Myers got his old job back, at WNEW, but he was very unhappy with 'NEW's playlist, still stuck on the same Sinatra/Bennett/Mathis format. There were a few small stations that still craved the Mad Daddy, and he would tape Mad Daddy shows for them, but the magic was gone. Rock and roll had become less guttural and more ornate, and "wavy gravy" became a clown. Literally. Myers continued at WNEW for a couple more years, but when his ratings began to slide, and he was moved to an early evening shift, he knew the end was near. On October 4, 1968, on the first night of his new airshift, Myers got up and dressed for work. He never made it. As he strolled into the bathroom of his apartment to freshen up one final time before work, he took a shotgun with him. His wife heard a blast, and rushed into the bathroom to see Myers on the floor with a gigantic hole in his chest. By the time the ambulance arrived, Mad Daddy was dead.

Going back to that 1958 aircheck, the songs played by Mad Daddy were, to say the least, off the beaten track. He spun obscurities like "The Springer" by The Dells, "Juke Box" by The Coeds, and "Teen Age Machine Age" by The Travelers. Many of the songs were B-sides that Myers liked better than the more "normal" A-sides, and this Don Durant record was one of them.

Don Durant wasn't just some obscure singer, though. He was actually quite the Renaissance man. Born in Long Beach, California in 1932, Durant learned to shoot and ride horses at an early age, and soon heard the call of Hollywood. He worked as a singer and bit part actor, but also worked at RCA as a technician. He was also on the team at Warner Brothers that developed their first kinescope recorder and stereophonic sound recorder. In his spare time he taught actors how to ride horses and shoot pistols. Shortly after he recorded "Love Me Baby"/"Seal Rock" for Fabor Records (then picked up nationally by Challenge Records, the Gene Autry-owned label), he was cast in the title role of the CBS western "Johnny Ringo", which was one of the most popular shows of the 1959-1960 TV season, but, strangely, was cancelled after only one season because there were too many western TV shows on the air at that time (like, 30). Durant never had another high-profile role again, but took the money he did make and invested wisely, becoming a real estate magnate and a multi-millionaire. He passed away in 2005.

The above record is obscure, to say the least. It took me years to track down the record (because, unfortunately, Mad Daddy was ahead of his time in the sense that, like today's DJs, he rarely announced the title or artists of the records he played), and once I found out it was Don Durant, I was surprised that NONE of the online pages about him even mentioned the record (though IMDB.com has updated their Don Durant bio to include it). It's so goofy, I'm surprised it DIDN'T become a hit.

If you ever want to hear Mad Daddy in full rotatin' motatin' zoomeratin' roar, go to the great aircheck site www.reelradio.com. You'll have to pay a nominal member fee, but it's SO worth it if you're a classic radio junkie like me.

Don Durant - Seal Rock (Challenge 59003) - 1958

JIMMIE DRIFTWOOD - THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS

"In 1814 we took a little trip/Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip...."

Pretty much everyone knows that couplet as the opening line to "The Battle Of New Orleans", a #1 pop and country hit for Johnny Horton in 1959. My fifth grade teacher used to play it when teaching us about early American history. It still gets airplay on certain radio stations. Basically, it's a country/folk classic.

However, while everyone knows at least part of the tune, and a number of people know that Johnny Horton had the big hit with it, only a few folks know that Johnny didn't have the original version; even fewer folks have actually heard the original version (though, hopefully, many will come to my blog to finally experience it).

"The Battle Of New Orleans" was written and first recorded by a folksinger known as Jimmie Driftwood. Jimmie Driftwood was born James Corbett Morris on June 20, 1907, in West Richwoods, Arkansas. The name "Driftwood" came from a joke that Jimmie's grandfather played on his grandmother: when they went to see their newborn grandson, Jimmie's grandpa got there a few minutes before his wife, and wrapped a bunch of old sticks in a blanket. When Jimmie's grandmother got there a few minutes later, grandpa handed her the bundle and said, "why, it ain't nothing but driftwood!" (guess you had to be there). Thus the name Jimmie Driftwood. Not only did Jimmie's grandfather give him his professional name, but also gave him the instrument he played throughout his life - a guitar made from a piece of a rail fence. Google almost any picture of Jimmie Driftwood and he'll be seen with this guitar.

Jimmie came from a musical family, and was soon exposed to the music of the Ozark Mountains through his father and other local musicians. Jimmie also started a second career in education, obtaining a teaching license at the age of 16 (though, strangely enough, at that point he had never attended high school), and spent the next few years teaching in one-room schools in Arkansas, while going to school at night to receive his high school diploma. He also attended John Brown College and Arkansas State Teachers' College (finally receiving his degree in 1949), traveled across America, and settled down for a couple of years in Phoenix, Arizona.

It was while teaching school in Arizona that Jimmie began using the novel method of writing songs about historical events to teach his students. In 1936, Jimmie wrote "The Battle Of New Orleans" because his students were having difficulty differentiating between the Revolutionary War and The War of 1812. Basically, Jimmie was the original version of "Schoolhouse Rock".

In the early 1950s, after moving back to Arkansas, Jimmie decided to go for it - he submitted some of his songs to a few record compaines, with no success. But then fate - and Porter Wagoner - stepped in.

Porter Wagoner liked to make money, and was a pretty shrewd businessman. He decided he wasn't making enough money on performances and his records, so Porter looked into the world of music publishing. He formed his publishing company with the steel player in his band, Don Warden. Warden and Driftwood had a mutual friend, Hugh Ashley, who told Warden about this teacher who wrote fantastic songs and was an undiscovered treasure. Driftwood went up to Nashville in 1957 and auditioned for Don Warden, who signed him to a publishing contract and got him a recording contract with Porter Wagoner's label, RCA Victor.

Driftwood's first recording session for RCA was held on October 27, 1957. The first song recorded that day? "The Battle Of New Orleans". The record had only three musicians on it - Jimmie Driftwood, guitar, Chet Atkins, guitar, and Bob Moore, bass. There were 10 other tunes recorded that day - in a three hour session!! Nowadays, producers spend three DAYS just MIXING a record. Those 11 songs made up Jimmie's first LP - "Jimmie Driftwood Sings Newly Discovered American Folk Songs", released early in 1958.

The LP sold in respectable numbers, despite the fact that it received very little airplay. Part of the problem was the fact that "The Battle Of New Orleans", the most "commercial" song on the LP, contained the words "hell" and "damn". No one was going to run afoul of the FCC in 1958 by playing the record, although WSM in Nashville (home of the Grand Ole Opry) decided to give it limited play, but only at very late night hours.

The airplay at odd hours may have been the reason that Johnny Horton heard the song. As the legend goes, at about 2am sometime in late 1958, Johnny was driving home from a show he had just done in the Nashville area, and decided to tune in WSM on his car radio. They were playing Jimmie's "The Battle Of New Orleans". Horton heard the tune and decided right then that he was going to record it. He called his record company, Columbia, and told them his plans. Horton edited out some of the more "offensive" verses, took the final verse and made that the chorus, and generally changed the song around. Columbia scheduled a session on January 27, 1959, Johnny recorded his version, and the rest is history.

The other story, which seems a little more plausible, is that Don Warden, noting the lack of airplay for the Jimmie Driftwood record, decided to up the ante and push "Battle" to more popular artists who could make the song a hit. Warden contacted Tillman Franks, Johnny Horton's manager, and played the record for him. Tillman took it to Johnny, who loved it immediately, and recorded it.

Either way, Horton's record screamed up the lists, hitting #1 on the country charts for 10 weeks, and, to everyone's surprise, hit #1 on the pop charts. Meanwhile, RCA Victor had just released Jimmie Driftwood's second LP, titled "The Wilderness Road", which included the original version of another country hit - "Tennessee Stud", which Eddy Arnold would take into the country Top Ten a couple of months later. "The Wilderness Road" began selling very well, and RCA decided to pick up a few extra sales by issuing a 45 of "The Battle Of New Orleans" backed with a cut from the new LP, "Damyankee Lad", despite the "hells" and "damns" on both sides of the record (isn't it amazing how morality flies out the window when there's a few bucks to be made?) and despite the fact that "Battle" was an almost two-year-old record. Unfortunately for Jimmie, nothing was going to stop Johnny Horton's rise to #1, so the 45 failed to sell. However, the money Driftwood made from "Battle" and "Tennessee Stud" (not to mention Homer and Jethro's parody "The Battle Of Kookamonga") allowed him to live comfortably on his 150-acre ranch in Arkansas for the rest of his days.

Driftwood recorded a few more LPs for RCA until 1961 (among the other tunes he cut was an answer record to "Battle Of New Orleans", titled "The Answer To The Battle Of New Orleans", imaginatively enough), and then became heavily involved in the local Arkansas folk scene and became one of the organizers of the Arkansas Folk Festival, which attracted hundreds of thousands of people to see local musicians play. He also became very involved in environmental issues. Jimmie and his wife Cleda could often be found serenading visitors at their home, where Jimmie lived until his death in 1998.

The music industry will never see his like again.

Jimmie Driftwood - The Battle Of New Orleans (RCA Victor 47-7534) - 1959

SLIM HARPO - I'M GONNA KEEP WHAT I'VE GOT

Ahmet Ertegun, head of Atlantic Records, was asked in 1971 what it felt like to have The Rolling Stones recording for his company (Atlantic distributed the Rolling Stones Records label all through the 1970s). He said, "I think Mick Jagger would rather be recording for Excello, but we were the only company that recorded R&B in the 1950s that could give him a million dollars."

This record makes me think of that quote every time I give it a spin. I'm not gonna tell you anything about Slim Harpo (born James Moore on January 11, 1924, passed away from a sudden heart attack on January 31, 1970), there's a lot of info out there on the internet, plus you can read everything you need to know on The Hound's excellent blog. Here's his post about Slim Harpo.

I AM gonna tell you that Slim Harpo should have been pretty P.O.'d at ole big lips Jagger for basically ripping off his whole vocal style, though, to their credit, the Stones made no bones about where their sound came from - Jagger's muse was Slim, Keith Richards' was Chuck Berry and/or whoever the guy was that played guitar for Nolan Strong and The Diablos, and Brian Jones was infatuated with Sonny Boy Williamson (Rice Miller, not to be confused with the original Sonny Boy Williamson, who died in 1948). As for Charlie Watts and Bill Wyman, who knows? The Stones recorded several Harpo tunes, ("I'm A King Bee", "Shake Your Hips") and even named their first "live" LP in homage to the B-side of Harpo's first single.

The 45 I've posted here, released in 1967, almost never gets mentioned as one of Harpo's great records. I don't know why. All of Slim Harpo's great records have things a million other blues records have - harmonica, guitar, drums that sound like they're in another building - but what made Slim's records different was his dedication to groove. Listen to Slim's records like "Shake Your Hips" or "Baby Scratch My Back" or any of the others (which can be heard on the sadly out-of-print but still available "Hip Shakin'" 2-CD set on Excello/AVI) and you'll hear what I mean - these records go nowhere musically but the groove is so irresistable that you don't care. This one has a groove SO deep you'll never get out of it, provided mainly by whoever played bass on this record, though that "slap-whacka-slap" guitar part can't be denied. It's a very Stonesy groove, but MUCH better. I have a feeling Slim finally got sick of everyone saying, "hey man, you know what those limeys been doin' to you?" and decided to show Mick and Keith how it was REALLY supposed to be done. You don't mess with Slim Harpo.

My favorite story about him can be found in the liner notes by Tim Warren on one of his "Back From The Grave" garage comp LPs - a teenage garage group called The Mustangs decided to cut Harpo's "I'm A King Bee" (they probably only knew the Stones' version), but the owner of their label got uptight about the lyrics, so said owner wrote to Slim asking him to "clean up" the lyrics so the group could record a new version and put it out. Slim responded by sending back new lyrics that were INCREDIBLY filthy! Needless to say, the Mustangs' version of "King Bee" never saw the light of day.....

Slim Harpo - I'm Gonna Keep What I've Got (Excello 2289) - 1967