That's all right, Big Boy!

Because of the mention in Nat Hentoff's "American Music Is," I thought I'd post my entry on Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup from "MusicHound Blues: The Essential Album Guide." It was a work-for-hire, so the copyright belongs to Visible Ink Press, which has gone out of business. I'm not sure if its parent company, Gale, which publishes many reference works, kept the rights to MusicHound or sold it off elsewhere. Near as I can tell, a revised version of "MusicHound Blues" was published in 2002 by G. Schirmer Books, and that company's reference book division has been sold to Gale.

The MusicHound entries had a set format, starting with a bio, moving into "must buys" (What to Buy), the next most desirable (What to Buy Next), the clunkers (What to Avoid), the rest of the artist's works (The Rest), rarities worth seeking out (Worth Searching For), and influences. The item on the artist's influences was called Rewind and the one about who the artist influenced was, what else?, Fast Forward. Ratings were given as number of bones, with 5 bones being the best.

This item has not been updated since it was published in 1998, so the recommendations are likely not current.

ARTHUR "BIG BOY" CRUDUP

Born: Aug. 24, 1905 in Forest, Miss. Died: March 28, 1974 in Nassawadox, Va.

Arthur Crudup was a 30-year-old farmworker in rural Mississippi when he learned to play guitar in an effort to pick up some extra money playing house parties. In near poverty, the guitar he was forced to learn on had a broken neck bound together with wire. As a result, he learned only a few basic chords and riffs. By 1940, Crudup had headed north, spurred by the stories of good jobs in the big cities. Instead, life was hand-to-mouth. However, the move to Chicago wasn't wasted, because soon afterward Crudup signed to Bluebird Records. Although this didn't bail Crudup out of a life of hardship -- he was slickered into selling most of the rights to his music. He made a modest living, but should have been entitled to more. Eventually, he moved back to the South, returning North only for an annual recording session that produced a half-dozen or so songs. This went on until 1954, when a discouraged Crudup gave up in despair of ever making a good income. (He had recorded under pseudonyms for Chess and Trumpet records.) In 1960, he was coaxed back into recording for Fire Records, and in the late '60s until his death, he recorded for Delmark. Although Crudup seemed hampered by stage fright during the first phase of his career, the Delmark years found him an enthusiastic performer. None of it would have mattered, if he hadn't written such evocative images and if his high, clean voice didn't sound so forlorn in songs of lost love. Crudup also indirectly changed the course of pop music, having been a major influence on Elvis Presley. Presley's hopped-up version of "That's All Right, Mama" was his first regional hit on Sun Records, and the catalyst of the rock and roll explosion of the '50s.

What to Buy: That's All Right Mama (Bluebird, 1992, 4.5 bones) is the definitive collection of Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup's music, hitting the major highlights from his Bluebird years (1941-'54), starting with the rural Delta sound of "If I Get Lucky" and ending with the proto-rock and roll of "She's Got No Hair." Listen to him croon "She cries, 'Ooo-wee, I believe I'll change my mind" on "So Glad You're Mine" or hear the smile in his voice in "Shout, Sister, Shout" and you'll have had a heaping serving of Crudup's charms. Even so, there's plenty more here. Another That's All Right Mama (Relic, 1992, 4 bones) documents Crudup's return from retirement for the Fire label in the early '60s. His remakes of many of his classic tunes have much of the power of the originals, and there are a few new tunes as well. The collection supplants Mean Ol' Frisco (Collectables, 1988, 3.5 bones), which contains fewer songs from the same sessions.

What to Buy Next: Meets the Master Blues Bassists (Delmark, 1994, 4 bones) is the only reissue on compact disc from Crudup's late '60s Delmark years. He records with long-time bass collaborator Ransom Knowling, and with Willie Dixon. Crudup seemed virtually unchanged nearly 30 years after starting his career.

What to Avoid: It's not hard to avoid some bad Crudup releases since they haven't made it to CD yet, but leave Roebuck Man (Liberty, 1974, 2 bones) and Star Bootlegger (Krazy Kat, 1983, 2 bones) alone if they ever come out in a jewel box. They're not all right, mama!

The Rest: Complete Recorded Works, Vols. 1-4 (Document, 1994, 3.5 bones) collects all of Crudup's Bluebird sides. In chronological order, the collection waters down the impact of Crudup's best sides. Still, it is complete and therefore offers many good numbers not found in other collections of this often-anthologized performer.

Worth Searching For: Crudup's Mood (Delmark, 1969, 3.5 bones) and Look on Yonder's Wall (Delmark, 1969, 3.5 bones) might still be around on crackling vinyl. Crudup proved he was a sturdy soul in these late '60s recordings.

Rewind: Robert Johnson, Big Bill Broonzy

Fast Forward: Elvis Presley, Bob Dylan

By Salvatore Caputo

My own horn

Pardon me if I sound breathless. One of my writing heroes forever and ever is
Nat Hentoff. An editor at Downbeat in the late 1950s and for many, many years a
columnist for the Village Voice, he wrote many volumes on jazz, music in general
and on diverse subjects such as religion and First Amendment rights.

Yesterday, I found out via a Google search that he quoted me in his 2004 book
"American Music is." It's just a few words, but it's incredible to me that Nat
Hentoff read something I wrote and that it stuck with him enough to have it be
the keystone for a point he made in one of his books. I always
figure I just churn it out and hope that somebody will notice. Well, I guess
somebody really did.

The quote comes from my article on Arthur "Big Boy" Crudup in the long
out-of-print "MusicHound Blues: The Essential Album Guide"(Visible Ink Press,
1998).

To see Hentoff's big quote, click here.

Copyright © 2009, Salvatore Caputo

Buckley paid price for rare gem

Lately I've been thinking about (and listening to) Tim Buckley's "Starsailor."

After 39 years, it still seems as fresh and contemporary as the day I excitedly ripped off the shrink wrap and laid the vinyl LP on my turntable to ride the stellar sound waves.

It's a short album, barely 45 minutes, but its scope belies its brevity.

Released in 1970 on Frank Zappa and Herb Cohen's Straight Records label, this was the record where Buckley went for broke -- and pretty much ended up out of the record business for a couple of years.

Buckley had matinee-idol looks and a choir-boy tenor. Because he played an acoustic 12-string guitar, he was lumped into the folk-rock category. However, his music was never as simple musically as the term "folk-rock" -- with its three- and four-chord progressions -- implies. Exotic sounds, harmonically challenging accompaniments and Buckley's prodigious multi-octave range were there from the start, but for the record business what mattered was a singer-songwriter who looked good and had a sweet voice.

On "Starsailor," his sixth album, Buckley reached the outer limits of his evolving fusion of folk, rock, jazz, Latin, world, avant-garde and electronic music. The title track featured Buckley singing a string of impressionistic lyrics, but through recording-studio technology, his voice became its own accompaniment and created a soundscape that did indeed seem to sail the stars.

Needless to say, the sounds and time signatures that were exotic to Western ears in 1970 (today, the widespread availability of music from distant shores has shown how commonplace such "complicated" rhythms are in other parts of the globe) made "Starsailor" a commercial loser.

Buckley was the producer of this album, which meant that he had full control of the artistic presentation and choice of material. For that, according to Lee Underwood, who played guitar with Buckley for many years, the record label would not release another album till Buckley ceded artistic control.

That's all well and good, but copies of "Starsailor" are still sought out by a growing number of aficionados as we approach the album's 40th anniversary in 2010.

Its impact has outlasted the Straight label, which pretty much closed for business by 1973. The label did resurface in the late 1980s, when through a licensing deal with Enigma Records, many Straight releases were reissued on CD.

By then, Buckley was long dead (gone tragically in 1975 of a drug overdose), but the label that punished him for "Starsailor's" lack of commercial success did not leave "Starsailor" in the vault. Perhaps Herb Cohen (Zappa was no longer involved after they parted ways acrimoniously in 1976) thought CD sales would help recoup any lingering losses from the original project, but more than likely those losses had long been written off and proceeds from the reissue would be a little bit of gravy.

However, Buckley did get a measure of respect from Enigma in the CD reissue. Not only did it include printed lyrics and production notes that weren't part of the original vinyl release, the cardboard outer packaging (which was used in those days to prevent CD theft from stores) lavished praise on him:

"If you have a five-and-a-half octave vocal range, it's a shame to limit it to your average everyday pop. And this record is a living testament to the fact that Tim Buckley, at least, was smart enough to recognize that simple fact. But he wasn't able to act upon it without paying a price. ... Conundrum or no, Buckley bravely pushed on into the largely uncharted territories where he found himself more in the company of the likes of John Cage, Cathy Berberian and Rahsaan Roland Kirk than his pop contemporaries. The album that exhibited his stunning musical growth (and which Buckley regarded as his magnum opus) was 'Starsailor.' "

In short, no guts, no glory. Buckley risked a great deal to put out his magnum opus, but if he hadn't taken the risk, he never would have painted his masterpiece.

Copyright © 2009, Salvatore Caputo

PS: Enigma was acquired by Capitol Records soon after the Straight reissues and disappeared as a separate label in the very early 1990s.

PPS: Buckley was the last performer seen on the original run of "The Monkees" in 1968. He sang "Song to the Siren," a slightly revamped version of which appeared on "Starsailor" two years later. Below is the one from 1968, with the voice of Micky Dolenz introducing him.

Pragmatism, who wins?

Like Bob Dylan's description of "John Wesley Harding," President Obama is never known to make a foolish move. Of course, if you're a critic of Obama, you'll be howling about that statement because you think every move he makes is foolish, but I don't want to talk about the differing views on his strategy, goals or results. Here I'm using "foolish" to mean "rash."

It seems to me that every move this president makes -- whether I agree or disagree with it -- has been "well thought out" or possibly even "carefully planned." But this careful consideration is damping down the boldness of hope that supporters saw in him during the campaign. (Governing is different from campaigning, but that's a truism I think the president probably can't afford to heed.)

Obama didn't start campaigning on "it's the economy, stupid," as Bill Clinton did in the 1992 campaign. Obama began making noises about running for president as an opponent of the war in Iraq -- which to some degree influenced the way the economy went, but that's a story for another time. However, he had to change his tune along the campaign trail because the spectacular collapse of the American economy ultimately was the only issue that mattered at the end of 2008.

From that point on, Obama has been greatly compromised. To counter accusations that he was simply "too green" (and I don't mean "environmentalist") to handle the presidency, he has courted -- particularly on his economic team -- people who have credentials. As the Washington Post pointed out in a September 2008 article, Timothy Geithner was a partner with then-Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson and Federal Reserve Chairman Ben Bernanke in engineering the Bush administration's response to the collapse of the financial industry. With Geithner now subbing for Paulson in the Obama administration, we still have two-thirds of that power trio playing the same tune, when it comes to bailing out the economy. (There's a conspiracy debate on whether Goldman Sachs, from whose loins Paulson sprung, is the puppeteer behind every bubble and bust of recent memory. See Matt Taibbi's article "The Great American Bubble Machine," from the July 9 issue of Rolling Stone and Matthew Malone's article in Conde Nast Portfolio.)

You could almost hear the president's pragmatic, political, community-organizing wheels turning. Let's see, the economic crisis opens doorways to revisiting a host of ills with price tags on them: the cost of defense, the cost of health care, the security costs of dependence on international oil markets to supply energy to fuel the economy, the costs of global warming, etc.

His argument? Now is the time to address these issues with new thinking instead of politics as usual, to clear away programs from the past that no longer work, and to make way for programs that create a more secure and prosperous future.

For instance, there's stimulus money to help alternative energy projects, which the administration hopes will create tons of jobs domestically in the near and long terms. It's a very pragmatic response that makes sense within the terms of its own argument, but the devil (and all the arguments) are with the details of what will be favored and funded.

Similarly pragmatic is the administration's global warming response. Rather than tax companies to limit carbon emissions -- because "tax" is such an unpalatable word -- the White House preferred to push "cap and trade." Cap and trade offers a "free market" solution, with all the potential for graft, corruption, market manipulation, influence peddling and economic roller-coaster rides fueled by speculative markets. A carbon tax's effect on the economy and on carbon emissions would be more clearly measurable and controllable, but it's pragmatically (politically) unpalatable. (Look at these analyses from very different POVs by Robert J. Samuelson, a Washington Post columnist, and Paul Krugman, a New York Times columnist.) Will cap and trade with all its potential pitfalls produce the desired results? Maybe, but cap and trade looks more like the administration trying to have it both ways -- to look tough on the environment while giving opponents great power to shape the solution. The need for solutions is urgent, but all that they're able to push through because of the slow-grinding gears of politics is Band-Aids.

I think the health insurance debate is the biggest sign yet that the administration is eventually going to rue its pragmatism as it tries to get something, anything done. President Obama wants to create a "public option" of health insurance that would compete with the private sector. Some of the critics, economic conservatives who routinely argue that the government is fundamentally incapable of being well-run, suddenly argue that the private sector would be unable to compete with the badly run government when it comes to providing health insurance. What does that say about how well-run the current free-market health-insurance system is?

Those who argue that administrative costs that drive up the price of health insurance would be drastically reduced in a single payer system -- a system that conservatives and libertarians (they're not the same thing although their thinking may at times align) tend to decry as "socialist" -- are disappointed in Obama, seeing the public option as a timid attempt to mollify free market capitalists. (See what Obama's former doctor has to say about the public option in this article from Forbes.)

Blue Dog Democrats, fatigued with the rising costs of government that have their constituents rightly worried, have been notable opponents in forestalling action on health insurance.

So compromise and pragmatism are leading to inaction and inertia. Remember when the economic firestorm began in earnest in the fourth quarter of 2008? A vast array of free market capitalists (Bernanke and Paulson come to mind as two, Geithner has been a public-sector guy his whole career) suddenly became believers in Keynesian economics (I know the Libertarian Party didn't; they have a strong faith), which essentially says that when economic chaos erupts, the government needs to take action to restore order. (Actually, it would be a more correct summary -- but less "guy I'd like to have a beer with" talk -- to say that Keynesian economics suggest that the government needs to manage markets to keep free market entropy from becoming macroeconomic chaos. Free market capitalists tend to believe that the markets are self-correcting and that you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet every now and then, so we're better off with the occasional chaos, no matter how deep the collapse, than with having the government regulate the economy.)

Every action, including maintaining the status quo, has its downside, but what's the upside of the status quo? Everybody complains about health insurance, but nobody does anything about it.

That may be the most foolish move of all.

Copyright © 2009, Salvatore Caputo