Elvis – His Hand in Mine

His Hand in Mine

ElvisHis Hand in Mine RCA Victor LPM-2328 (1960)


Elvis was a legitimate fan of gospel music.  So it should be no surprise that he can reproduce the style of The Trumpeteers on “Milky White Way”, The Golden Gate Quartet on “Joshua Fit the Battle [of Jericho]”, The Staple Singers on “Swing Down Sweet Chariot”, and so on.  It is somewhat amusing to hear Elvis embarrass himself on whitewashed version of these songs.  Well, that’s a bit harsh.  It’s not that the performances are that bad per se, but a hallmark of gospel music has been song arrangements.  You can measure a gospel act by how they put their personal stamp on their rendition of a gospel standard.  Elvis just doesn’t deliver on that score.  The arrangements here all tend to be highly derivative of classic pre-existing recordings, and to the extent they sound a little different it’s only because of the uniformly bland, rubber-stamp 50s-pop backing harmonies.  This is just making black music more palatable to white audiences, and that holds little interest more than fifty years later.  From another, kinder perspective you could say Elvis knew how to pick good songs, but in his performances he’s too deferential here to the artists whose versions of the songs inspired him.  Either way this album is self-indulgent and stupid.  Elvis’ two later gospel albums How Great Thou Art (1967) and He Touched Me (1972) are both much superior.

Swan Silvertones – Singing in My Soul

Singing in My Soul

Swan SilvertonesSinging in My Soul Vee-Jay LP 5006 (1960)


For those not in the know, The Swan Silvertones were a long-lived gospel group — one of the best.  Their second LP, Singing in My Soul, is perhaps their very best.  The group had already been around for more than two decades when they made the album, an existence that pre-dated the album format era.  Their early days involved radio performances (no recordings of those performances have been released).  They then recorded a host of singles for the King label in the 1940s, which were mostly a cappella, with occasional acoustic guitar accompaniment.  The group complained that the record label forced them to play up a kind of hillbilly, folky sound.  Into the 1950s, they recorded “hard” gospel for Specialty records.  All the Specialty sides are essential.  The group sang searing leads, balanced with ravaged screams and driving tempos.  Lead singer Claude Jeter made pioneering use of his falsetto range, seemlessly jumping between his natural range and his falsetto.

When the group moved to Vee-Jay records in the late 1950s — where almost all of the top gospel acts of the day recorded — there was a profound shift in their music.  Instrumental accompaniment was much more pronounced, and varied.  Vocals remained the focus.  But there were new opportunities for interplay between vocal and non-vocal sonorities.  On record they were paired with some of the finest session players around (in particular, the jazz group MJT+3), with credentials from outside the gospel world, because Vee-Jay was also active making successful recordings in other genres like blues and jazz.

Vee-Jay was a significant independent record label in its day, and was notable for being an African-American owned and operated company when Jim Crow segregation laws were still prevalent.  It maintained a measure of dominance in the African-American market until overtaken by Motown, and Vee-Jay’s eventual bankruptcy due to financial mismanagement in 1966.  Though, it should be noted, the label’s biggest commercial successes came not from black acts but from white acts like The Four Seasons and licensed state-side re-issues of recordings by The Beatles.  Vivian Carter Bracken, one of the label’s owners, was a radio DJ first in Chicago and then in Indiana.  Her knowledge and connections, not to mention her exposure on radio broadcasts, seemed to give her an edge identifying new talent and understanding commercial markets for music.  Scores of major musical artists made their first commercially successful recordings for the label.

The opener on Singing in My Soul is the traditional “Swing Low.”  The first sounds are from an electric guitar (from Linwood Hargrove), slowly playing two dissonant, descending chords.  Louis Johnson, who joined the group about five years earlier, is the first singer heard, and he is sermonizing rather than singing as such, recanting a nostalgic tale about supposedly hearing about the lyrics of the song from “an old gray-haired lady” many years ago, presumably in childhood.  A vocal harmony is introduced, with slow, wordless “wooos” filling out the space behind Johnson.  Claude Jeter comes in next.  He goes immediately to his falsetto range.  He dips into his natural range briefly, only to swoop immediately back up to his falsetto.  Some lightly brushed percussion on a cymbal (from Walter Perkins), and a faintly plucked acoustic bass enter in too (from Bob Cranshaw).  As all this builds, there is a bluesy, jazzy approach to the instrumental accompaniment, though except for Jeter’s vocals everything stays respectfully in the background.  There is actually a lot happening, with six or seven performers backing Jeter at the same time, yet the song still provides a sense of space and openness.

The next song, “Move Somewhere,” again opens with Louis Johnson.  This time, though, he’s actually singing.  His range is much lower and, frankly, narrower than Jeter’s, with a gravelly texture that is accentuated with slightly cracking, subdued screams used for emphasis.  This song picks up the tempo.  The full drum kit is used to provide syncopation.  Meanwhile, the vocal harmonies introduce words, and the guitar continues in what seem like improvised blues/jazz riffs not far off from West Coast cool jazz of the latter part of the 1950s.

By the third song, “Lord Today,” Claude Jeter’s opening lead is ready to fully open up.  His finesse in going from a robust use of his natural tenor range, with more limited, precise and dramatic forays into falsetto puts superb technical skill into play in the most friendly, welcoming way possible.  Louis Johnson enters and he is now wound up to a more fevered pitch, pushing against the steady tempo of a rhythm section that is providing more forceful beats.

The first part of the album lacks any prominent contributions from the great Paul Owens.  This changes somewhat in the middle and latter part of the album. Owen’s biggest chance to shine is on the closer “Stand Up and Testify.”  The presence of a jazz trio kind of takes away opportunities for Owens to showcase his style of singing influenced by what was then fairly contemporary and modern vocal jazz.  But he gets to do some of that in at least in that one song.

The group’s classic “Trouble In My Way” is re-recorded here with a brand new arrangement that manages to impress even with a completely different sound.  Owens gets some time out front here, along with Louis Johnson.  The backing vocals adopt something approaching New Orleans second-line music (with echos of “Jesus on the Main Line”).  The guitar strums steadily in nearly a fury, setting aside the jazzy chords for the first time to play in a more incongruous folk music style.

As usual, baritone singer John H. Myles and bass singer William Connor stay pretty much out of the spotlight.  What is more unusual, though, is that the group’s most talented arranger, Myles, isn’t felt so strongly on this album as on others.  The jazz trio providing instrumental accompaniment is given relatively free reign to create a lightly improvised foundation, and the most of the backing vocals are straightforward call-and-response stuff.  More complicated vocal treatments do come on the title track, with the instrumentalists holding back a bit more and the singers providing a more layers that more somewhat more independently, with solos from Jeter very nearly taking the role of the responses to the calls from the other singers.

“Near the Cross, Pt. 2” might well be a live recording.  The instrumentalists can barely be heard, and there are shouts and handclaps that might be from an audience.  Along with “Rock My Soul,” it raises the intensity and energy level of the album and helps provide a more a more varied song sequence.

This is my favorite Swan Silvertones full-length album.  While it somewhat paradoxically gives over a lot of attention to the instrumental accompaniment, and the vocal arrangements are rather more straightforward than elsewhere, this holds together so well I can’t help but want to listen to it more frequently than most of the group’s original albums.  It has a consistency of sound, yet it still maintains a kind of looseness and leaves room to sprinkle through it a variety of attitudes, tempos and phrasings that prevent stagnation down any single stylistic avenue.  It may lack any individual standout songs, but the sum ends up being greater than its parts.  The Swan Silvertones are definitely number one on my list of “greatest bands no one seems to have heard of”.  Listen in!

The Swan Silvertones – Walk With Me Lord

Walk With Me Lord

The Swan SilvertonesWalk With Me Lord HOB HBX-2112 (1970)


A live album recorded July 4, 1969 at the Baptist House of Prayer in New York City.  The sound is soul-inflected.  This would be the last album The Swan Silvertones recorded with longtime member Paul Owens — his feature “What About You” (renamed “What About Me”) appears early on.  It would be wrong to focus on any individual songs here, though, because this album is more importantly a document of a live performance that is really more than the sum of its parts.  There is a lot of talking and sermonizing in between songs, and “Pass Me Not” is more like “testifying” set to music than a proper song.  Often times the sermonizing segues to the song proper.  Clearly a great deal of practice is reflected in how the group transitions between different songs across the program.  What all this captures on record is the way the group could work up a crowd through multifaceted performance techniques.  And this crowd was clearly enthusiastic about the performance.  Gospel music may have been seeing a steep decline in popularity at this time.  But you wouldn’t guess it from the searing vocals of lead singer Louis Johnson.  This is a good one from the later years of one of the most important groups in gospel.

The Swan Silvertones – There’s Not a Friend Like Jesus

There's Not a Friend Like Jesus

The Swan SilvertonesThere’s Not a Friend Like Jesus Savoy SL-14505 (1979)


Stylistically, There’s Not a Friend Like Jesus (or simply Not a Friend as the back of the album jacket states) is a fairly typical late-period Swan Silvertones album.  The instrumental backing is polished, though the underlying material is too bland for that to matter.  There is surprisingly little singing here.  Louis Johnson is at the front, with only minimal backing vocals.  But Johnson often sermonizes without truly singing.  That makes this a somewhat disappointing album, even with reduced expectations that take into account the generally unambitious nature of the era of the Swans’ career that produced it.  It’s also a bad sign that this is the only Swan Silvertones album to feature an extended electric guitar solo.  This may earn the distinction of being the very worst Swan Silvertones album.

Apparently none of The Swan Silvertones’ recordings for Savoy Records have been released on CD.  But the original LPs are relatively easy to come by for reasonable prices, as the Savoy period is the least interesting of the group’s long career and there are plenty of people out there willing to give up their discs.  The same can’t be said for the group’s earliest material for the King, Specialty and Vee-Jay record labels, almost all of which is readily available on CD.  Material for HOB Records has seen only limited re-release on CD, mostly by way of shoddy “best of” sets and not full-album reissues.  The HOB material is good enough in quality and hard enough to come by that prices for vinyl tend to be a bit high, and the CD compilations often aren’t worthwhile due to being so incomplete.

Fire in My Bones: Raw + Rare + Otherworldly African-American Gospel

Fire in My Bones: Raw + Rare + Otherworldly African-American Gospel (1944-2007)

Various ArtistsFire in My Bones: Raw + Rare + Otherworldly African-American Gospel (1944-2007) Tompkins Square TSQ 2271 (2009)


A collection of obscure gospel tracks spanning many decades.  The material goes all over the place, but largely focuses on sort of an alternate history of modern gospel that emphasizes the do-it-yourself ethic that allowed the music to flourish even without much commercial viability.  The music is generally “raw” as the subtitle suggests.  The vocals, while often coming from talented vocalists, can veer off or miss notes as if these were all one-take affairs.  None of that really matters though.  This music isn’t about polish and shine as much as soul and feeling.  It’s also a showcase for a wide range of personalities and styles.  Street performer Flora Molton (with “Heard It Through the True Vine”) sounds like she could have subbed on guitar in Captain Beefheart’s Magic Band circa The Spotlight Kid.  It’s interesting too how gospel acts pretty freely borrowed from each other.  So Gospel Writers‘ “Same Man” is basically a re-write of The Staple Singers‘ “I’m Coming Home,” and Brother Willie Blue‘s “I’m Pressing On” borrows heavily from the melody of The Five Blind Boys of Alabama‘s “He’ll Be There.”  This is a great set for anyone with an interest in gospel music.  It may not be an ideal place to start for those entirely unfamiliar with the genre.  Though the more open-minded of independent rock and soul fans probably won’t take much convincing to warm to this infectious, lively music.  Pretty much everything here is at least good, though the third disc doesn’t quite match the first two.

Bobby Womack – The Bravest Man in the Universe

The Bravest Man in the Universe

Bobby WomackThe Bravest Man in the Universe XL Recordings XLCD561 (2012)


What to make of Bobby Womack’s comeback album The Bravest Man in the Universe?  It’s really two albums in one.  There’s the focus-grouped, calculated part, with guest spots from the likes of flash-in-the-pan indie bimbo Lana Del Rey and overbearing electronic beats by Damon Albarn–oh there’s no chance whatsoever that you’ll think Womack can’t be set against “modern” electronics.  Then there’s the other part, with compelling, funny, charming, mature ruminations on religion, life and relationships, presented matter-of-factly, and as intimately as any Womack recording of old.  These disparate albums meet at times, but also seem to inhabit separate worlds at others.

Parts of the album are best viewed in context.  The electronic soul of The Bravest Man in the Universe seems most directly inspired by Gil Scott-Heron‘s surprise indie hit of 2010 I’m New Here.  That’s made clear on Heron’s fittingly hilarious appearance on “Stupid Introlude.”  But the specifics of the beats lie somewhere else, attired in calm orchestration and stately piano and bolstered by monotone newscaster-style spoken word bits, at times even coming across as reminiscent of the glitchy ambient electronics of David Sylvian from almost a decade ago.  When switching gears to more traditional gospel soul (“Deep River”), Womack reveals something akin to when Sly Stone seemed to drop the act and reveal the weary puppet-master on “Sylvester” from Ain’t But the One Way.

This was a modest hit.  The problem is that the electronics are too superficial for the music.  They are like the new, corporatized Time Square: flashy but fundamentally incapable of soulful resonance.  Womack’s voice powers through most of the time.  But, really, why should it have to?  Trimming a lot of that back, to just a few of the best of the dance-oriented cuts, and adding in a few more smoldering acoustic cuts that leave more space around Womack’s voice might have made this a bit more lasting.  As it stands, this suffers from the same faddish production choices that held our man back in the 1980s (The Poet).   Womack really needs a Rick Rubin, or maybe to pay more attention to how Jamie Lidell‘s career has evolved.

The Blind Boys of Alabama – Atom Bomb

Atom Bomb

The Blind Boys of AlabamaAtom Bomb Real World 6 19225 2 (2005)


A really fine album from a group that had existed more than 65 years (!) when this was released.  Breaking it down mathematically, you’ll be hard pressed to find many veteran groups that have made an album half this good after being around a mere one-sixth as long.  I watched the Boys perform on The Tonight Show promoting this album, and Jimmy Carter did a little showman’s trick and held a note for about a full minute (using circular breathing), wowing the crowd.

Blind Boys of Alabama – Take the High Road

Take the High Road

Blind Boys of AlabamaTake the High Road Saguaro Road 26393-D (2011)


So, The Blind Boys (of Alabama) have been offering a pretty steady number of new albums, despite members being quite advanced in age.  It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to note that these recent albums have made liberal use of marketing gimmicks.  An album of pop covers–check!  Christmas album with guest spots–check!  An album recorded in New Orleans with brass bands–check!  So, here they’re at it again, this time it’s all about guest spots.  Those kinds of albums are usually quite dull, and this one is too.

Paul Robeson – On My Journey

On My Journey: Paul Robeson's Independent Recordings

Paul RobesonOn My Journey: Paul Robeson’s Independent Recordings Smithsonian Folkways SFW CD 40178 (2007)


These were recordings made in the 1950s when Robeson was blacklisted during the cold war McCarthy witch hunt era.  He started his own label Othello Records and offered recordings on a subscription basis by way of the newspaper Freedom that he contributed to during that time.  His longtime arranger, accompanist and collaborator Lawrence Brown had largely stopped working with Robeson following a 1949 concert in Peekskill, NY in which an angry mob of idiots attacked the stage (to which Robeson responded in later concerts by surrounding himself on stage with unionists as bodyguards/bouncers, like his own Red Guards).  Instead, pianist Alan Booth is present on most of these recordings.  Booth was a competent pianist, but he didn’t have the deep connection that Brown had with Robeson. To complicate matters, any musicians that worked with Robeson during this time risked having their union card revoked (so much for unions supporting the working man), and even studios that gave Robeson recording time faced FBI harassment.  Under those circumstances, the mere existence of these recordings is impressive.  Yet, overall, they aren’t quite as good as Robeson’s earlier Columbia recordings.  There are still very fine performances here, like the stunning and resolute “Bear the Burden in the Heat of the Day” and “On Mah Journey Now, Mount Zion.”  There are fairly extensive and interesting liner notes with this release though, and a few tracks were previously unreleased.

Paul Robeson – The Peace Arch Concerts

The Peace Arch Concerts

Paul RobesonThe Peace Arch Concerts Folk Era FE1442CD (1998)


Paul Robeson had his passport revoked by the U.S. State Dept. in the 1950s.  This was illegal, as courts later found.  On top of that, President Truman signed an executive order that prevented him from traveling to Canada.  Normally American citizens could travel to Canada without a passport (* this long-standing practice was ended during the so-called “war on terror” in the 2000s).  The grounds for all this was that Robeson was supposed to be some kind of a threat during wartime.  “Wartime” you ask?  Supposedly, the Korean War.  But there was no declaration of war with respect to Korea, so it wasn’t a “war” as far as the U.S. Government is concerned, so the actions against Robeson were illegal — not to mention completely spurious.

When prevented from traveling to a scheduled concert in Canada, Robeson set up on in a park on U.S. soil, standing feet from the border, and sang for a broadcast across the border.  That was 1952.  He came back again three more times for similar cross-border concerts.  Recordings were made and released by the International Union of Mine, Mill and Smelter Workers.  This comp — released in honor of the 100th anniversary of Robeson’s birth — collects the 1952 and 1953 performances.  The one from ’52 is by far the best of the two.  Though what’s interesting is that not all of the ’52 concert seems to be present here, as I Came to Sing (recorded at that concert) included “Water Boy” which is omitted here.