Friday, April 22, 2011

Holy Ghost Pt.2: The Louvin Brothers

 Charlie and Ira Louvin

Where oh where would country music and especially that special sub-genre, country-gospel, be without Ira and Charlie Louvin? Where would country music have come up with those angelic close tenor harmonies? Where would backsliding believers get their dose of hellfire and brimstone finger-pointing? Where would have some of the most covered and classic country songs come from, if not for the troubled, troubling Louvin Brothers?

If you know Sister Rosetta’s story and how she was just as righteous on Saturday night as she was on Sunday morning, and if you love Johnny Cash and know how he struggled with the dark beast that lurks within every human breast, you won’t be surprised to learn that Ira Louvin was one major sinner. Nix that.  He was a walking, breathing human disaster zone.

A drunkard and violent man he epitomised the very sinner he and his brother warned against in their beautiful voices and pithy slices of down home musical wisdom. He crashed cars while driving under the influence. He beat his wife. His wife (number 4) shot him several times in the chest in self defence. He smashed his mandolin on stage whenever he got pissed or pissed off. He was a roiling, short circuiting ball of dysfunction. But man, could the boy sing.

With his brother Charlie, Ira’s desperate battle with his demons, pushed him to make the most impassioned gospel music ever to come out of Nashville. As he sings The Kneeling Drunkard’s Plea, you know he’s singing about and to and for himself.

Lord have mercy on me
Was the kneeling drunkard's plea
And as he knelt there on the ground
I know that God from heaven looked down

The Washerman’s Dog is not unacquainted of such a condition. And indeed, if we are honest, who has not felt such desperate and yearning and craving for salvation? It is this bold, bolshy fallen humanity that makes the Louvin Brothers such musical geniuses.

AMG has this to say about the brothers and their impact.

Whatever type of songs they recorded -- gospel, folk, hillbilly, or '50s pop -- those songs became the Louvins'. Add to the list the many Louvin compositions (for example, "If I Could Only Win Your Love," Emmylou Harris' first hit), and you have an act that is outstanding in country music history.

Their career took awhile to get going, partly because of interruptions from WWII and the Korean War. In the early '50s, after making a reputation for unexcelled gospel singing, the Louvins broadened their repertoire, recording "The Get Acquainted Waltz" (with Chet Atkins adding another guitar to Charlie's and to Ira's mandolin), a fair hit that showed success was reachable with non-religious music. The electric guitar, with the duo's unique harmony and Ira's exceptional tenor, created a sound that fans asked for in increasing numbers. In 1955, after ten unsuccessful auditions, they finally joined the Opry, where they performed to great acclaim until 1963, when they broke up. They had a number of hits, including the much-covered "When I Stop Dreaming" and "Cash on the Barrel Head." Following the duo's breakup, Ira and Charlie both pursued solo careers. 



Born and raised in the Appalachian mountains in Alabama, both Charlie (born Charlie Elzer Loudermilk, July 7, 1927; died January 26, 2011) and Ira (born Lonnie Ira Loudermilk, April 21, 1924; died June 20, 1965) were attracted to the close-harmony country brother duets of the Blue Sky Boys, the Delmore Brothers, the Callahan Brothers, and the Monroe Brothers when they reached their adolescence. Previously, they had sung gospel songs in church, and their parents encouraged them to play music, despite the family's poverty. Ira began playing mandolin while Charlie picked up the guitar, and the two began harmonizing. After a while, they began performing at a small, local radio station in Chattanooga, where they frequently played on an early-morning show. 



The Brothers' career was interrupted in the early '40s when Charlie joined the Army for a short while. While his brother was in the service, Ira played with Charlie Monroe. Once Charlie returned from the Army, the duo moved to Knoxville, TN, where they received a regular spot on a WROL radio show; they later moved to WNOX. Around this time, they decided to abandon their given name for Louvin, which appeared to be a better stage name. (Their cousin John D. Loudermilk retained the family name.) Following their stint in Knoxville, they moved to Memphis, where they broadcast on WMPS and cut one single for Apollo Records. After their brief stay in Memphis, they returned to Knoxville. 



In 1949, the Louvin Brothers recorded a single for Decca Records which failed to make much of an impact. Two years later, they signed with MGM Records and over the next year recorded 12 songs. Shortly after their MGM sessions were finished, Charlie and Ira moved back to Memphis, where they worked as postal clerks while playing concerts and radio shows at night. Eventually, they earned the attention of Acuff-Rose, who signed the duo to a publishing contract. Fred Rose, the owner of the publishing house, helped the duo sign a contract with Capitol Records. The Louvins' debut single for the label, "The Family Who Prays," was a moderate success (it would later become a gospel standard), yet they were unable to capitalize on its success because Charlie was recalled by the Army to serve in the Korean War.

Upon Charlie's discharge from the Army, the Louvins relocated to Birmingham, where they planned to restart their career through appearances on the radio station WOVK. However, a duo called Rebe & Rabe had already carved out a close-harmony niche in the area, using several of the Louvins' own songs. When Charlie and Ira were reaching a point of desperation, Capitol's Ken Nelson was able to convince the Grand Ole Opry to hire the duo. Prior to joining the Opry, the duo had been marketed as a gospel artist, but they began singing secular material as soon as they landed a slot on the show, primarily because a tobacco company sponsoring its broadcast told the Opry and the Louvins "you can't sell tobacco with gospel music." While they didn't abandon gospel, the Brothers began writing and performing secular material again, starting with "When I Stop Dreaming." The single became a Top Ten hit upon its release in the fall of 1955 and would eventually become a country standard. It was followed shortly afterward by "I Don't Believe You've Met My Baby," which spent two weeks at number one early in 1956. No less than three of the duo's other singles -- "Hoping That You're Hoping," "You're Running Wild," "Cash on the Barrel Head" -- reached the Top Ten that year, and they also released the albums Tragic Songs of Life and Nearer My God to Thee. The Louvins' success in 1956 was particularly impressive when considering that rock & roll was breaking big that year, sapping the sales of many established country artists. 



However, the Louvins weren't able to escape being hurt by rock & roll. They had two relatively big hits in 1957 ("Don't Laugh" and "Plenty of Everything but You"), "My Baby's Gone" reached the Top Ten in late 1958, and their classic version of the traditional ballad "Knoxville Girl" was a moderate hit in early 1959, but those four hit singles arrived in the space of three years; they charted four songs in 1956 alone. Soon, the Louvins were receiving pressure from Capitol to update their sound. They tried to cut a couple of rockabilly numbers, but they were quite unsuccessful. Eventually, Ken Nelson suggested that the duo abandon the mandolin in order to appeal to the same audience as the Everly Brothers. The Louvins didn't accept his advice, but the remark did considerable damage to Ira's ego and he began to sink into alcoholism. 



The Louvin Brothers continued to record during the early '60s, turning out a number of theme albums -- including tributes to the Delmore Brothers and Roy Acuff, as well as gospel records like Satan Is Real -- as well as singles. "I Love You Best of All" and "How's the World Treating You" reached numbers 12 and 26 respectively in 1961, the first year they had two hit singles since 1957. However, the duo began fighting frequently, and Ira's alcoholism worsened. Following one last hit single, "Must You Throw Dirt in My Face," in the fall of 1962, the duo decided to disband in the summer of 1963.

For today’s post the Washerman’s Dog has chosen the iconic (content and cover) Satan is Real. Believer, backslider, sceptic, atheist or other, the music herein will be hard not to love.

            Track Listing:
1.     Satan is Real
2.     There’s a Higher Power
3.     The Christian Life
4.     The River of Jordan
5.     The Kneeling Drunkard’s Plea
6.     Are You Afraid to Die
7.     He Can Be Found
8.     Dying From Home and Lost
9.     The Drunkard’s Doom
10. Satan’s Jewelled Crown
11. The Angel’s Rejoiced Last Night
12. I’m Ready to Go Home
Listen here

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Holy Ghost: An Interview with Sister Rosetta Tharpe

Sister Rosetta Tharpe


Sister Rosetta Tharpe has been described variously as: an outright musical genius; the Original Soul Sister: Grandmother of Rock ‘n Roll; sanctified sinner and (by the man himself) Johnny Cash’s ‘all time favourite singer’.

With a jaunt of the sort that has inspired the Washerman’s Dog , a gait that moves so frequently and so energetically across ‘dividing lines’ that borders are obliterated, Sister Rosetta Tharpe stands at the highest pinnacle of modern American music. She was a gospel singer who played secular blues in the church and a rocking guitarist who always claimed to be serving the Lord. Never mind the mink stoles, pink lipstick and blonde wigs.  She broke every mold, pushed every envelope and horrified church goers and delighted  blues hounds all across the US of A and Europe.

On a recent visit Down Under the Washerman’s Dog caught up with the Sister for a chat.  Resplendent in her king-size suite at the Hyatt 7th Heaven garbed up in a sparkly sequined green night frock,  ghoulish red lipstick and a matching flaming wig, Rosetta seemed relaxed and eager to spill the beans about her life and times.

Washerman’s Dog: Let’s start at the beginning. Where and when were you born?
Sister Rosetta: In a town no bigger than a baby bo weevil, honey.  Cotton Plant, Arkansas.  You can take a guess at what that place was about! I was born in 1915.
WD: So your family were share croppers and worked the cotton fields.
SR: Um hum. That’s about it. Nothing much else us black folks were doin’ besides that. In those days. But my mother worked in the Lord’s field. She was known as a missionary and travelled all through towns in Arkansas and the South.  Shouting for Jesus! Yo hoo! Hallelujah!  I learned to pick the gitar from tagging along with her to tent meetings and church halls. We was sanctified,  and on the road!
WB: So you always wanted to play and sing on the stage?
SR: Honey, I had no idea of stages. It was altars and praising the Lord. But I did like the attention I got when I plucked those strings and sang. And that’s what I did for some years. I got better and better and more Spirit filled over the years and that’s when my mind turned you know to moving beyond the little churches.
WD: When did you start making records for a living, then?
SR: Cain’t rightly remember now, but probably in the late 1930s. I was just about a twenty year old lady. Ooh  I was hungry and someone saw that. I hooked up with all sorts of players. Cab Calloway, Benny Goodman. I signed up a contract with Decca Records and they did well by me. Making my music known to the radio DJs and public.
WD: You were doing secular music with Benny Goodman? In the 1930s?
SR: You know it was all music to me. It all came from the Lord. Singing about my baby is the same as singing about my saviour to me. Love is the key. So yeah I was doing it all. But mainly singing hymns and popular gospel music. You see not many of those white folks who went to the clubs in New York City and Washington DC on Saturday nights had any idea of what us black ones were singing about next door on Sunday morning. I read somewhere that it was me that brought the Negro Sunday morning to the White Saturday night! Ha ha! I suppose that’s the case alright. I came up with Mahalia , and Lordy, she beat the shit out of me with her voice and power.  But I suppose I had her beat to hell on the rocking and rolling!!
WD: She didn’t approve of you?
SR: Oh dear man, that ain’t it. She was a purist you see. Wanted to keep it all serious and a bit solemn. For the church.  And hell, that’s what ‘gospel’ music’s about aint it? Jesus, sinning, forgiveness and heading to heaven! She didn’t disapprove, just didn’t dig my scene. We was good friends and of course by the time the 1950s ran dry, I was no one. She was filling stadiums with Billy Graham and having her picture all over the place.
WD: Well you had your share of those things. Didn’t you get married in…
SR: Ha ha ha! (she holds her sides). Lordy, you do know your stuff! Yes, you see I got married to a bad man, even though he was a preacher man. And so I left him. Shit. Did that cause a storm! But then I got married again and then a third time. By that time, I figured, let’s party. And so after a concert in an old baseball park in Washington DC (Griffith Stadium) I got married to Russell Morrison. We I played for them folks in my wedding gown! What a hoot!
WD: It seems you caused a lot of storms in those days.
SR: I guess you’re right. But I didn’t set about that. No one goes looking for trouble for no cause.  Ha ha! But you see I never liked to be put in one box or another for too long. I loved all kinds of music and like King David, I wanted to dance when I praised the Good Lord. So you see I’d get lost in my guitar playing and my hips would sway..ha ha ha…and pretty soon I’d be swaying. And the Sanctified, they objected to that sort of thing and so they told me that I wasn’t no gospel singer any more. So I said, well hang them. And started playing the clubs like the Cotton Club, Carnegie Hall and Apollo and Café Society. And they appreciated what I was serving up, you know. But I never left the Lord’s path. At least for too long at a time! Hahaha!
WD: By the 1950s you had sort of lost an audience. But then you went overseas.
SR: yeah I wasn’t alone. Lots of them like Bill Coleman, Jack Dupree, Dexter Gordon and so many others went to live in Europe cause they couldn’t stand being ‘niggerised’ day and night in their own country. And the English and Dutch folk and French they just loved the music.  They even loved us, so naturally we liked playing there. I never lived there but did visit a lot for shows.
WD: I read once that on one of those American Folk Blues Tours in the mid 1960s Sonny Boy Williamson and Willie Dixon saw a not very ‘sanctified’ side of Sister Rosetta Tharpe.
SR: Mind your own business, if you please! He didn’t have the name Willy for nothing, you know! Now I got to go. The show’s going to start soon. I’m playing at the Pearly Gates Club tonight. You coming?
WD: Most definitely. And thanks for your time. One final question. Qadafi stays or goes?
SR: Gone. Like the car I wrecked. By July 1st.
WD: You’re pretty sure about that.
SR: Dead people know everything!

(interview thanks to Project in Accurate History)


            Track Listing:
1.    Jericho
2.    When They Ring the Golden Bells
3.    Two Little Fishes, Five Loaves of Bread
4.    Beams of Heaven
5.    Cain’t No Grave Hold My Body Down
6.    All Alone
7.    Up Above My Head There’s Music in the Air
8.    I Shall Know Him
9.    Fly Away
10. How About You
11. Precious Memories
12. 99 and a Half Won’t Do
13. The Gospel Train


Listen here.





           

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Money Matters: Songs about jobs and money

Illustration by Anthony Freda

A few weeks ago I was laid off.  To mark this momentous occasion the Washerman’s Dog has put together a special collection of songs about money and jobs for the enjoyment of all who have ever been made redundant, sacked, given the pink slip, fired, been moved on, downsized or simply not shown up for work one day. 

            Track Listing:
1.    The Getting Paid Waltz  (Mose Allison)
2.    When I Lost My Job (Super Negro Bantous)
3.    Call My Job (The Mannish Boys)
4.    Money is the Root of All Evil (Don Boadie)
5.    Money Talks (J.J. Cale)
6.    If Blues Was Money (Alvin Youngblood Hart)
7.    Only In It For the Money (Jimmy Smith)
8.    Money to Burn (Rico Bell and the Snake Handlers)
9.    Silver Dollar (The Skatalites)
10. Til the Money Runs Out (Tom Waits)
11. All the Money’s Gone (Greg Brown)
12. I Need Some Money (John Lee Hooker)
13. And Some Money Too (Serena Ryder)
14. Poor House Blues (“Champion” Jack Dupree)

Listen here