Bentley’s Bandstand: September 2024
By Bill Bentley
Milo Binder, The Unspeakable. Milo Binder, surely a spin-off of Joseph Heller’s CATCH-22 character Milo Minderbinder, is one of the great American solo artists of the past half-century. Binder’s most recent album was 33 years ago, and this follow-up is more than worth the wait. It is such a microscopic beauty of how life and music and all the other oddities of being on this planet spin into a mixed-up wonder of the heart beating at its best. These are songs that make all the sense in the world as long as they aren’t inspected too closely. Instead, the lyrics and music should be enjoyed with a scope of joy, and that joy being the fact that being alive is the gift all humankind enjoys as one. From opener “I Should Be Your Man” until the closing track “You Must Break the Heart” this is a kind of stroll through why there is no reason to try and figure out what is really going on in life. Instead, it should be a 24-hour daily journey through a rough-shod heaven that adds up to exactly what it’s supposed to be: The Big Wow. Milo Binder, Todd Lawrence in his early life, has scoped out the Big Picture in a way that we all can celebrate. Taking 33 years between albums can do that to you: give an infinite palette to do exactly what you want when it’s time to press “record” on the machine. No doubt there should be a college philosophy course with THE UNSPEAKABLE as the teaching tool. Just past the middle of the album is a song titled “I Asked the World.” As our planet behavior becomes less and less understandable, this is the answer that should be sought. Mr. Binder has come across a secret that all can hopefully grok. THE UNSPEAKABLE has come to the rescue. And with producer-arranger Willie Aron’s astute ability to put the songs and sounds together into a beautiful piece, there is an unending incredulity to it all that gives a true feeling the code has been cracked. We’re here to live. Until we’re not. Have no fear.
Jim Brunberg, Crooning Through the Apocalypse. There are moments in popular music where the road never traveled seems like the perfect way to move forward. Jim Brunberg struck out on that road years ago, and from being dug in now in Portland, Oregon his life and music feel and sound like they’ve found home. Brunberg’s music is all his own. On CROONING THROUGH THE APOCALYPSE it is no accident that some of the nation’s most favored standards are taken out for a new spin: “”Nature Boy,” “A Cottage for Sale,” “That Lucky Old Sun” and others are on that list, but like almost all of what Brunberg touches they become all his own. Whether he’s helping to invent the future in the most unlikely places or twisting around these musical nuggets isn’t the headline. What really matters is that this man doesn’t play by the rules. In fact, it’s likely Brunberg doesn’t even know the rules. His music accomplishments stand free-form and fantastic, and have since his very start. He wandered off into the woods and found he liked it there enough to stay. Listening to this new album feels like he’s really figured out how to make it all work for him and all those who see and hear his accomplishments. And then there’s the three original songs (okay: one’s a co-write with Maurice Tani (“Bourbon Therapy” just to show the safety to not write songs about alcohol alone)). But in finding the permanence of musical classics is to discover the future in a turned-around way, which seems to be one of the foundations of Brunberg’s endeavors. So when it comes time to check in with those who have taken themselves off the grid to an extent and aren’t afraid to find their own highway to the stars, find Jim Brunberg’s music and the read of his originations. There aren’t many like him, and for right now in 2024 America, that’s a very good thing. Now’s the time.
The Flying Salvias, Amerikinda. There is no way to sound so completely formed unless you’ve played music for at least half a century, as the Flying Salvias have, and paid attention to which words and music really come together like they are meant to. There can be no mistakes in songs that sound prophetic like this duo’s do. Kathleen and Henry Salvia are the kind of duo that make music that feels like it could not sound any other way. Their absolute bond assures that everything they do comes out in total togetherness. With their handful of absolutely astute supporting players, songs like “This Time,” “Invisible,” “All I Can Do” and all the others breathe together in a way that only artists like this can create. Add on the wondrous openness of Northern California atmospherics and what occurs is the freedom of the Bay Area mindset. It’s a true fact that the area there breeds a sense of psychic joy, no matter the underlying subject of the song. Kathleen Salvia’s powerful voice never goes over the line, and whether Henry Salvia is playing organ, piano or accordion he always tunes right into what is needed to make the music soar. The way the pair mix and match a dozen other musicians into various parts of the mixture is like a bit of magic itself. Northern California is known for its ability to cast a spell on players which lets them open all the doors to offer the freedom needed to open up. It’s just a known fact that goes all the way back to the 1950s folk scene, into the psychedelic ’60s and all the way to today. AMERIKINDA and The Flying Salvias take full advantage of this history and push it to the limit. There is no reason to try and define how it happens. The fact that it does is the gift itself. Do not miss.
Amy Helm, Silver City. Sometimes an album sneaks up on the world, and slowly but surely works its way into the atmosphere. Amy Helm has been singing a long time, and no doubt heard a whole universe of music growing up with parents Levon Helm and Libby Titus in Woodstock. From her time in the band Ollabelle and then on her own, an endless amount of music was made. On SILVER CITY, though, in some ways it feels like Amy Helm has found a new place to call her own. There is such an infinite feeling of creation on songs like “If I Was King,” “Hwy 81,” “Dear Louisiana, “Alameda” and others that it’s almost like the woman has been born anew. Gospel overtones find their way naturally into almost all the songs in such a totally uplifting way that a renewal of spirit is unavoidable. Helm found a voice that comes from the upper ether, and is writing songs, both with others and on her own with a surety of spirit that can be heard from miles away. Artists sometimes cross a line into a brand new strength, one that feels like they have come onto the promised land and will not be going back. That is what SILVER CITY delivers. There can be no doubt that Amy Helm has been gifted with an ability now to take her voice and vision into new land. This is someone who has heard a calling that won’t ever be forgotten or lost. Sometimes it feels like a light of truth takes over a person, one that won’t ever leave them. Amy Helm has hit that place and it is wrapped in a simmering of eternity. And it is on Sun Records, just like it should be. Onward and upward.
Nick Lowe, Indoor Safari. Since just about everyone hitting the monkey nerve in 2024 has already been doing so for 50 years, history is now part of all the stories. But when it comes to Nick Lowe, it’s always seemed there is something super special about this musician. For starters, he knows what the real deal is. The Englishman has never made a record that didn’t either hit or come mighty close to the bullseye. Mr. Lowe knows exactly where his sweet spot is, and has perfect aim in how to hit it. He righteously adds inflections of blues, rockabilly, soul, country and a few other delectable influences into his gonzo sound, but he never trips up trying on things that have no business in his sonic worldview. And on INDOOR SAFARI, all Lowe’s primo elements come together to carve a groove bigger than Borneo. He even has a band that wears masks to no doubt conceal their criminal backgrounds. No matter, because they’ve outlived the statute of limitations anyway. Which on INDOOR SAFARI leaves a runway more than long enough to allow total takeoff. Because nobody knows like Nick Lowe knows that in the end it’s really all about the songs. And this is a Brit that feels songs from the first downbeat to the last fading ghost note. And INDOOR SAFARI is a dozen delights, with no doubt allowed. Even the special-treat outside cover “Raincoat in the River” comes courtesy of Rick Nelson’s catalogue in 1965, but sounds as new as, well, a Tesla armored-car. This is rock & roll that doesn’t miss, delivered by someone who can swing from heartache to ecstasy, from blue to red, from upbeat to molasses, in a single lyric line. It’s all here.
Michael McDermott, Lighthouse on Shore. It’s not everyday that two distinct albums are separately but together by the same artist. That’s exactly what Michael McDermott has done: the acoustic-styled LIGHTHOUSE ON THE SHORE and the more electric-oriented EAST JESUS packaged as one. It hits a double wallop, but for now LIGHTHOUSE ON THE SHORE gets the nod for review. Maybe that’s because McDermott is one of the more powerful singer-songwriters alive, especially when it comes to baring down and sharing his soul. There is such a depth of pain in his songs that it can almost be overwhelming. Almost, but not too much to be mesmerized by the music McDermott is sharing. It is so full of feeling and even pain that the heart goes right up to breaking. This is someone who has seen what, as William Burroughs’ once quoted in NAKED LUNCH, “is on the end of every fork.” Many of the songs on LIGHTHOUSE ON THE SHORE are overwhelming, plain and simple. What the man has gone through almost has a wrist-cutting end, with no promise the songwriter is going to get out alive. His voice fits the lyrics perfectly, like the finale is not only in sight, but can be smelled. Definitely not for dances or dinner parties, but like most things in life there’s a time and a place for it. So when the day’s headlines become too much for meditation, these are ten songs that bring into focus how much a human can withstand, and hopefully lend a hand to make it so another breath gets delivered. There is no singer-songwriter alive today who can go farther into the darkness and still find a way out. In some ways it feels like Michael McDermott is a miracle worker, someone who’s been all the way down but found a way back up. The lighthouse shines.
Various Artists, We Are All Drifters: A Tribute to the Continental Drifters. There are American bands that come together out of thin air. It’s not like you can plot something like that out, even if it looks that way. Usually a willing soul or two will have an idea in the middle of a dark night or blazing day, and from that a musical tsunami is formulated. Members of swinging aggregations like The Bangles, The Dream Syndicate, The dB’s, and, yes, The Cowsills received the calling to come together and start, well, rocking. They brought their friends and cohorts close, and before anyone could say “let’s put a band together,” a band was together. It came out of the air, because it was clearly meant to be. Of course, there had to be a tribute album as a traveling companion, complete with a book to boot. Writer/producer Sean Kelly and co-producer David Jenkins joined their push-and-pull together to benefit the ever-worthy Wild Honey Foundation and now, righteously, the 2CD/24-song tribute album WE ARE ALL DRIFTERS lives. It’s all meant to be, clearly. The range of artists on the album starts with alternative maestro Don Dixon, and then bumps, boogies and bashes through the briars and the brambles until the closing song, John Cowsill’s “Watermark.” There is so much stone-cold groovin’ music on WE ARE ALL DRIFTERS, that the only initial reaction can be speechlessness, if that is even a known word. There is something so seriously complete about this collection that there is nothing left to say. It is only possible to listen, and then feel the scope of pure friendship for all those who have touched the hem of the Continental Drifters at some point in their human trajectory. Every song is worthy, and no song goes wanting. This is music created 100% from the heart, and at the end of the transcontinental musical journey, there can be no doubt that children will someday answer the age-old question when asked: “I want to be a Drifter when I grow up.” Ain’t America grand?
Various Artists, I Believe I’ll Run On: A Tribute to Wilson Pickett. There are very few soul singers who had the innate power of Wilson Pickett. He could look at a lyric and instantly know how to charge it with dynamite so when it got heard there was nothing to do but dig the explosion. And when the man walked onstage, even the walls started quivering. During the mid-1960s there were a handful of soul men who had this ability, and none had it in more prodigious amounts than Pickett. It’s just the way the world was, and for those who were soulful enough to find it life would never be the same. While “Wicked” Pickett is now gone on to the other side, funkafied tribute albums like this glorious affair are a timeless reminder what the music was all about. Executive Producer Scott Ward had the perfect feel to make sure these dozen songs came out with the groove and greatness they needed, and in finding the musicians he did to bring it all home deserves bigtime appreciation, not to mention a Grammy or two. Of course, in covering Wilson Pickett the vocals need to be there full-tilt, and that’s exactly what happened here. With vocalists like Jimmy Hall, T. Graham Brown, Mark “Muleman” Massey, Damon Johnson, Paul Thorn, John Jorgensen, Christine Ohlman and others, the soul sound is solid on every track. And while Wilson Pickett himself can never be bested, the total feeling of what makes soul music seem like a saving grace of American music is all over these. Surely Wilson Pickett feels all the deep soul that is being sent his way, and listeners everywhere will be reminded what the man from Prattville, Alabama brought to America’s spirit. Mountains of soul.
Phoebe White, Cowgirl’s Delight. When it’s time for a singer who identifies closely with the Wild West, isn’t afraid to break out in a yodel dressed in pure white outfits with a cowgirl hat on top of her head, is barely a teenager, and has been on this route since she was eight years old, there is only one choice: Phoebe White. With songs like “Ride Along with Me,” “I’d Rather Be a Cowgirl,” “Color of Me” and “Cowgirl’s Delight,” there is no room for equivocation. This young woman is going to the Western side of music and does not pull any punches. Certain combinations might seem like a fluke, but not with Phoebe White. She knew instantly when she started singing at that young age this was her trail. With a voice that can hit notes in the top range, and follow them with a yodel that sounds right off America’s most desolate prairie, there is no way to go any other way. And with special guests like Suzy Bogguss, Riders in the Sky and others there is no doubt the singer has found home, which is topped off by her recording of Janis Ian’s “Color of Me” that was written for White. Very few young artists get the lift-off like this, but Ms. White lives up to her album title without a doubt. The Phoebe Yodel.
Steve Wynn, Make it Right. Even when greatness is a known commodity in certain circles, sometimes a stunning surprise appears to bump up the level even higher, and then the only action is to be able to stand back, smile, shake the head and know that real accomplishment has entered the room on a brand new level. That is precisely the feeling on Steve Wynn’s masterful and moving new release MAKE IT RIGHT. The young man who was part of putting The Dream Syndicate together in the early 1980s, and then went on to watch that group succeed but also participate in all kinds of sonic offspring and collaborations which made perfect sense–and music. It used to be said of this Los Angeleno back then: what a Wynner. Now, 40 years and millions of touring miles and recording hours later, it just might be that Steve Wynn has made the album of his life. It’s one of those breathtakers that feels so natural and flat-out strong that it can’t really be explained. It just happens from the natural depth that is created inside the human heart and soul with a completely natural ease. Maybe part of that is because there is no Grand Plan to the songs on MAKE IT RIGHT. They’re just, well, right. And it feels like Wynn knows that. Whether it’s something that came over him naturally, or a plan that built itself into an album isn’t really important. What works so well is how stone-cold naturally everything fits together. The band itself feels like a group of friends who have been playing together almost their whole life, which is somewhat true, but finds lots of camaraderie in all the parts that makes the sound fit together like family. And whether Wynn is singing with a sound of clouds around him, or bearing down on the lyrics between the strong beats of the snare drum is totally natural. This is an accomplishment that not many groups can hit so effortlessly today. Most bands with this feel have already broken up and moved on to the solo circuit searching for satisfaction. Somehow Steve Wynn has captured greatness naturally, and opens his world to all those who want to join in. Making it right.
Reissue of the Month
Phil Alvin
County Fair 2000
Without a doubt, Downey, California’s Phil Alvin is a musical hero. The Blasters’ front man had the instigation to travel deep into an American landscape like few others, and find a sound that not only changed his life, but also helped change the whole spirit of the land. Between early blues, country, jazz and finally rock & roll, the sounds that had been born in the good ol’ U.S.A., as Alvin used to sing, burst forth in a way that affected everyone, and are still swirling to this day. He had tapped into all the rootsy reverberations of righteousness, and turned it up to 10. For Phil Alvin’s second solo album he blasted down the doors and went on a ride of adventure rarely taken. Combining a few deep roots songs with a trayful of Phil Alvin originals brought a glittering vibration of what American music could accomplish, and Alvin’s rock-solid voice never failed to move the molecules in the air in ways that are rarely heard. This is music for all occasions, with songs guaranteed to bring a whirling gyration to what modernity can do. There really is no one quite like Phil Alvin, and COUNTY FAIR 2000 is a righteous demonstration of how for those with the vision and the bravery can take the sounds anywhere. And with special guests Los Lobos’ Cesar Rosas, New Orleans’ Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Chicago’s Billy Boy Arnold, the Rhythm Pigs’ frontman Top Jimmy and Los Angeles street musician Jerome Bowman, COUNTY FAIR 2000 feels like a musical walk on the wild side, which it surely is, with a groovin’ guide for liner notes written by Chris Morris–of course. Do not miss an historical hallelujah for swinging sides right when the 1900s were being put to rest, all delivered in the unbeatable voice and hands of the one and only Mister Phil. The mighty man.
Song of the Month
Jesse DeNatale
“Out in the Mission”
When a song comes out that is so quietly overwhelming that it makes breathing hard, it’s obvious greatness has entered the environment. Northern Californian Jesse DeNatale has recorded many great songs. He goes about his life with quiet strength, asking no favors other than to be heard. Many times he seems like a permanent American hero, someone who will lend a hand when help is needed, and then turn around and sing a song of such overpowering emotion that it can make the sun shine a little brighter and a stranger feel like a friend. There is no way to explain this strength. It’s just that the man and his powerful music came together and now exist as a gift to the world. “Out in the Mission” is a love song to that San Francisco neighborhood. It is a maze of streets overrun with soul and strength, and a true tonic to why certain places can be lifesavers without even asking. DeNatale’s song has such a sweet undercurrent of steel guitar and vivacious vocals that it really feels like nothing can stop it. One listen brings about a belief in the humanity of everyone, and an unending righteousness of the friendship of strangers in a time when it’s obvious that this is the only real way to find lasting salvation. Six blissful minutes.
Book of the Month
David Browne
Talkin’ Greenwich Village
What a concept: living in New York where you are part of a burgeoning beatnik scene, then the oncoming counterculture and, who knows, maybe living next door to Bob Dylan for a bit. Greenwich Village has always seemed like the perfect solution to having to worry about a roof, a lawn, a car and other pesky problems with suburbia. Freedom lives in only a door key. A whole majestic city of inspiration lives right outside the front door in Greenwich Village. David Browne’s totally intriguing book about the wonderment of a neighborhood whose culture helped change the country is one of never-ending intrigue. The way those that were drawn to Greenwich Village for all those years is almost like magic. Anyone who had the desire to participate in reshaping the culture of the country had a home within those teeming streets of lower Manhattan, and for a few decades could actually afford to live there. As the folk music movement found its early legs in the Village, so did social movements that helped change the country, along with singers and thinkers and painters who gave life and color to those who grokked what was going on there. Browne’s extensive research brings it all to life, and the way the man tells the tale is an ever expanding walk not just on the wild side, but also is an explanation of how it reconfigured America in so many ways. Without Greenwich Village and those years in the mid-1960s there is no telling what we’d be listening to and watching today. The best news of all is that it did all happen, and now Browne opens a door to let us read about it. And even if the money machine eventually invaded Greenwich Village to change the aura of the era, it’s now possible to know what happened on those streets of beauty, and understand where such a large part of the country’s freedom steps were born. What a place.
Bentley’s Bandstand: September 2024
Enjoy previous columns here: Bentley’s Bandstand: August 2024