ARTHUR BROWN: BROWN, BLACK & BLUE (1991)
1) Fever; 2) Monkey Walk; 3)
Unchain My Heart; 4) Got My Mojo Working; 5) Smokestack Lightnin'; 6) Hound
Dog; 7) Help Me; 8) The Right Time; 9) Stand By Me; 10) The Lord Is My Friend.
After the release of Requiem, Arthur Brown disappeared from the public eye —
figuratively speaking, of course, since, for the most part of his career, he
was about the size of an elementary particle relative to the public eye — for
about a whole decade. Maybe he was unable to find even the tiniest,
God-forsaken record label to take care of him, or perhaps he thought he'd said
it all with Requiem and finally
earned the right to retire (and I'd certainly understand that).
However, in the late 1980s, bitten by the
nostalgia bug, perhaps, he started making occasional TV appearances and hanging
out with Jimmy Carl Black, the original drummer, vocalist, and Zappa's
part-time creative partner in The Mothers of Invention. One thing led to
another, and one of these «anothers» ended up as a joint recording by the two —
a limited-issue album of ten R&B compositions, mostly golden oldies, but
also featuring a re-recording of ʽMonkey Walkʼ from Chisholm In My Bosom, just to break up the predictability.
Unfortunately, at best the record is little
more than just a souvenir of two old pals having a friendly get-together. The
arrangements are tasteful, especially in the context of the late Eighties /
early Nineties — real live playing, guitars, old-fashioned keyboards, brass
section, harmonicas, the works — but never interesting, and Jimmy's input could
just as well be replicated by any seasoned pro on the drums: he may be
explicitly mentioned as an equal partner and have his name as part of the pun
in the album title, but he is never really in the spotlight. And Brown —
certainly Brown is not qualified to pull this off alone, particularly after his
ten-year layoff.
He does seem to understand that merely covering the classics makes
little sense, but the only «improvement» on his mind is changing the songs'
lyrics seemingly at random, and, occasionally, supplementing the regular vocal
melodies with long tangential rants of either a humorous (ʽGot My Mojo
Workingʼ) or metaphysical-intellectual (ʽThe Lord Is My Friendʼ) nature. Sort
of a pitiful decision — I, for one, do not generally need being told about how
all the great religious figures of the past are really one by a guy who has
just wasted thirty minutes of my time.
All I can say is that Brown's vocal skills are
still there, and that ten years have done little to quell his theatrical
manners or arrogance. So if you think that his classic cover of ʽI Put A Spell
On Youʼ is one of the greatest wonders of the universe, you will want to have
these ten tracks as respectable shadows of the past. But I've always thought
that song was just an excellent example of the Brown/Crane collaboration.
Unfortunately, Crane was not involved in the making of this album for the valid excuse of being dead, and nobody of the
same caliber replaced him — none of the musicians here seem to give much of a
damn about «expressivity».
Strictly for hardcore fans, historians, or big
admirers of classic R&B and electric blues who just love these songs so
much, they have to try to appreciate
them in as many incarnations as possible. Of course, these are all good songs,
and they are all done justice, but writing about them in more detail would only
make sense if Brown, Black & Blue
had been a conscious attempt to steal them away from Ray, Muddy, Elvis, and
Howlin' Wolf. It wasn't; in fact, it couldn't. From that point of view, it's
all strictly thumbs
down, and no amount of inventive ad-libbing is going to affect that
judgement. Like I said, only for completists or those with nothing else to do.
Check "Brown, Black and Blue" (MP3) on Amazon
"Only for completists or those with nothing else to do."
ReplyDeleteHey, that's me! He's talking about me! Oh, I feel so special.