Bill Haley: Rock Around The Country

BILL HALEY: ROCK AROUND THE COUNTRY (1971)

1) Dance Around The Clock; 2) Games People Play; 3) A Little Piece At A Time; 4) I Wouldn't Have Missed It For The World; 5) Bony Moronie; 6) There's A New Moon Over My Shoulder; 7) Me And Bobby McGee; 8) How Ma­ny; 9) Who'll Stop The Rain; 10) Pink Eyed Pussycat; 11) Travelin' Band; 12) No Letter Today.

In late 1970, Bill and the band turned up in Nashville, where they went in the studio for a couple of days to cut the very last record that you can actually find talked about in even the most detailed account of Bill's career. Even so, Rock Around The Country, the last Haley album to have ever mattered in some way, has never been released on CD, aside from a few separate cuts that ended up on obscure collections; I am reviewing a shabby vinyl rip here, reveling around in the crack­ling and hissing like a vintage master.

Should it be released on CD? Well, it's not like Bill Haley, in 1970, could spearhead a revolution in country-rock. But it does indicate an intelligent change of sound that the band was able to un­dergo. With a solid mix of oldies (some of them well-seasoned chestnuts, like 'How Many' and 'There's A New Moon', some never tried be­fore, like 'Bony Moronie') and contemporary material, and a thicker, denser sound that makes good use of most of Nashville's arsenal, Rock Around The Country shows that, had Haley been able to overcome his personal problems, the Comets might have become a more respectable institution, say, touring in support of Willie Nelson or something like that.

Not that I really like Haley's interpretation of 'Who'll Stop The Rain', which, just as it used to be fifteen years before, suffers from the usual problem: significant reduction of heat level compared to the original. Where Fogerty sang the song with an «optimistic-apocalyptic» fire in his throat, Bill sings it as if he were taking a pleasant stroll in the park. But then again, who knows, perhaps there's a time and a place for this mild take on the source material as well. (The other CCR num­ber, 'Travelin' Band', is much weirder — taken at the fast tempo of the original, it is sung by Nick Masters in a hoarse, trebly voice that sounds not unlike Lemmy from Mötörhead. For a few se­conds out there, I was afraid it was Mötörhead!).

On the other hand, Kristofferson's 'Me & Bobby McGee' is given a delicious treat, with Bill cap­turing the heart and soul of the tune to a tee. (Not that there's much to capture, but it's a good song all the same). And even if he takes the straightforward pain out of his rendition of Joe South's 'Games People Play', replacing it with frolicky catchiness, at least the thoughtful lyrics are left alone — and, when you take it all together, it turns out that the Comets were actually quite picky about the kind of contemporary material to take over. (Okay, so was Dolly Parton, who also co­vered 'Games People Play' the previous year — but it's not like anybody ever cared about what exactly Dolly Parton was singing, right?).

Considering that 'Bony Moronie' is still the same friendly pub-rocker Larry Williams wanted it to be, and that 'Pink Eyed Pussycat' features the gimmick of band members howling and whining like actual cats, and that there is only one generic country ballad on the entire album — I certain­ly vote for having it on CD, sooner or later. At the very least, it is unquestionably better than any studio album that Elvis released in the 1970s — very rooty-tooty and down-to-earth, with none of the overblown, out-distant Vegasy schmaltz from the King.

Unfortunately, it was also more or less the end of the road for Bill. Everything else that he'd cut until his untimely death from a brain tumor in 1981 was mostly rehashings and re-recordings, so much so that I cannot even find solid evidence for at least one more album that could, like Rock Around The Country, be thought of as a real LP. So this is probably the most fitting place for us to say goodbye, and go rip it up in other places. Thumbs up.

Bill Haley: Scrapbook/Live In New York

BILL HALEY: SCRAPBOOK / LIVE IN NEW YORK (1969)

1) Shake, Rattle & Roll; 2) Dance Around The Clock; 3) Rip It Up; 4) Night Train; 5) Guitar Boogie; 6) Razzle Dazzle; 7) You Are My Sunshine; 8) Rock-A-Beatin' Boogie; 9) Skinnie Minnie; 10) Johnny B Goode; 11) Kansas City; 12) Rock Around The Clock; 13) When The Saints Go Marching In; 14) Rudy's Rock; 15) Rock The Joint; 16) Fingers On Fire; 17) See You Later Alligator; 18) Wipe Out; 19) There Goes My Everything; 20) Alabama Bound; 21) Whole Lot Of Shakin' Going On; 22) Rock Around The Clock.

Haley's mid- to late-1960s recordings still remain a mish-mash of hard-to-find stuff, mostly on Mexican labels or semi-important American ones that preferred to release occasional compila­tions of older stuff than take any new sessions from Bill — understandably so, because even the new sessions would mostly consist of re-recordings of the old stuff.

Consequently, I do not think that we are missing much if there still has not been made a meticu­lous attempt to scoop all the results of those sessions in one comprehensive package. By 1965-66, the Comets were a fixed «oldies act» – in fact, they could have easily become one three years ear­lier, if not for Bill's brilliant decision to occupy the vacant throne of the Mexican King of Twist ­– and the only thing that could have rejuvenated that act would be to get Jimmy Page to play lead guitar in the band. Instead, they settled on a Nick Masters, who was okay, but lacked the fresh­ness of Franny Beecher anyway.

One well-illustrative slice of this late-period version of the Comets can be scraped off of the al­ready mentioned 6-CD Bear Family set — a full recording of the band's live performance in 1969 at the Bitter End in New York, following up on the heels of their performance at MSG, organized by promoter Richard Nader as part of his «Rock'n'Roll Revival» program. Part of the show was originally released in 1970 (on the Kama Sutra label, I believe) as Bill Haley's Scrapbook; other parts were subsequently released under various titles, including Live In New York in the early 1980s, but, as far as I can tell, this CD edition is the first one to properly arrange and reproduce the entire show, including announcements, stage banter, and an encore performance of 'Rock Around The Clock', done twice over the course of the show.

It's a fairly decent and enjoyable concert – even if most of Haley's banter is of a decidedly nostal­gic character, so much so that you can easily sense the genuine sadness behind the invoked chee­riness: even though Haley himself was only 44 at the time, it is clear that the people in the audi­ence were looking at the man as a curious relic, and the eight-minute standing ovation, described in the liner notes, that he was «honored with» at the MSG show, only proves that – whoever heard of an eight-minute standing ovation for Jimi Hendrix, for instance?

Nevertheless, the performances themselves are anything but nostalgic. There is no attempt to re­create any «genuine Fifties atmosphere»: the sound is full, the amplification quite modern, the guitar tones thick and solid. The setlist is not solely composed of golden Haley classics (although most of the major hits are played), but intersperses them with a good helping of classics by other early rock masters ('Johnny B Goode', 'Kansas City', 'Whole Lotta Shakin' Going On', all wisely sung by Nick Masters because the style is unsuitable for Haley's voice); a few excursions in good old country-western; and some solo showcases for individual band members – including a brief, economic drum solo on 'Wipe Out', Masters' flashy jazz guitar runs on 'Fingers On Fire', and, of course, 'Rudy's Rock' – Rudy Pompilli, at the time, was the only original Comet besides Bill him­self, and accordingly gets the second biggest applause from all present.

Although there are no particular standouts here, and no real reason for anybody (except for really kind-hearted people) to hunt for this performance, it is still a thumbs up. The «Rock'n'Roll Revi­val» franchise itself was an event of some historical significance – one of the first intentional at­tempts to somehow «enshrine» the living history of rock'n'roll – and Haley managed to supply just the right vibe for it: nostalgic, slightly elegiac, but dignified and entertaining enough to show the somewhat illiterate youngsters that the forefathers of rock'n'roll did not earn their bread, and their accolades, for nothing.

Bill Haley: Rock-A-Round The Clock King

BILL HALEY: ROCK-A-ROUND THE CLOCK KING (1964)

1) See You Later Alligator; 2) ABC Boogie; 3) Panic; 4) I've Got News For Hugh; 5) Don't Mess Around; 6) The Wobble; 7) This Is Goodbye, Goodbye; 8) Train Of Sin; 9) Altar Of Love; 10) Helena; 11*) Yakety Sax.

Okay... apparently, in 1964 Haley's career still mostly revolved around Mexico and the Orfeon la­bel, for which he was churning out new records faster than the Mexican government could im­port vinyl. Some of them might be good, too, judging by the high quality of the Round Table album; however, these days it is easier to have access to this lonely session that Bill and the boys cut in January '64 (in Las Vegas?) for the US Guest Star record label.

With Johnny Kay on lead guitar and the rest of the band still sweating it out like they did in the old days, this ten-song record, extracted from the depths of the large Bear Family 5-CD set (and I am taking the liberty of augmenting it with an enthusiastic run through 'Yakety Sax', taken from the same session), shows that, yes indeed, in 1964 the Comets still sounded swell, even if they were utterly and hopelessly irrelevant. Not entirely behind the times, though: the production is fuller and richer than usual, and Kay was clearly a guitar player of the next generation, not as in­ventive or aggressive as Beecher, but in full control of new, fuller tones. Listen to the solo on 'See You Later, Alligator': it is not as sharp as the original, but it is definitely power-poppier. That there guitar is just smiling at you, with a rich, juicy tone.

The record is not all just re-recordings of older standards, either: after the couple of obligatory opening «reminders» of why we were all into Haley in the first place, the band goes on to play various dance numbers that may have all been minor hits in their day, but most of which I do not recognize at all. That is not the problem, though; the problem is, the album is way too slow — too many mid-tempo shuffles, not enough boogie. (Odd enough, one of the most boogie-oriented num­bers here is the gospel-tinged 'Train Of Sin'!).

Decent listen, but no, no lost gems here or anything. And as for 'Yakety Sax', well, they really shouldn't have covered it — apparently, not every sax player can play the yakety-sax, and Rudy Pompilli, well, he's one of the best, but on this version at least, he does not give it his best, and any performance of 'Yakety Sax' that is not absolutely top-yakety will sound just stupid. The same applies to most of the other songs here. Still, Johnny Kay was a decent guitarist, and fans of early Sixties electric pop guitar might need to look into this.

Bill Haley: Twistin' Knights At The Round Table

BILL HALEY: TWISTIN' KNIGHTS AT THE ROUND TABLE (1962)

1) Lullaby Of Birdland Twist; 2) Twist Marie; 3) One-Two-Three Twist; 4) Down By The Riverside Twist; 5) Queen Of The Twisters; 6) Caravan Twist; 7) I Want A Little Girl; 8) Whistlin' And Walkin' Twist; 9) Florida Twist; 10) Eight More Miles To Louisville.

From around 1961 — upon Haley's departure from Warners — the Comets' discography becomes a nightmare. Although Bill honestly and faithfully recorded material throughout the 1960s and 1970s, the absolute majority of these albums have forever been out of print, and for understan­dable reasons: this absolute majority consists of innumerable re-recordings of older classics, oc­ca­sionally varied by attempts to place the Haley stamp on contemporary hits, of interest only because of the novelty value (who knew Haley actually covered CCR's 'Who'll Stop The Rain'? Certainly not me, until I started digging a bit. Was I intrigued? Probably. Did it make me happy? Not even unexpectedly so.).

Since I have no plans — and no easy opportunities, either — to become an obsessed vinyl collec­tor, I have little choice but to save myself the troubles of untangling the intricacies of Bill's late period discography, and merely run through a couple of the more easily available titles. First and foremost, it may be of use to know that, in the early Sixties, after all the setbacks, Bill and his band finally found themselves a profitable niche — reimagining themselves as «Kings of the Twist» and, since in the States that crown could not be contested from Chubby Checker, reloca­ting to Mexico, where Bill could freely and fluently sing in Spanish, well enough to earn the res­pect of all the local caballeros, and, who knows, maybe even a few señoritas (although one would be hard pressed to find someone less close to the stereotype of a Latin lover than Mr. Haley).

A bunch of twist-related albums were released on the Mexican Dimsa label in the process, none of them easily available, and most of them, I'm pretty sure, sounding like carbon copies of each other. However, the Comets' skill at twist-a-gaining can be conveniently appreciated through a rare enough twist session recorded in the States — a live album, recorded during a couple of nights in March 1962 at some NYC joint called «Round Table» (hence the oh-so-funny name). Among other places, all of these tracks have resurfaced on the 5-CD The Warner Brothers And More boxset — «more» apparently meaning «extra recordings made in some respectable places in the early 1960s, rather than in some shitty Mexican dump».

Anyway, if you care for twist at all — and there is no reason not to care about twist, unless, as it used to be in Soviet times, you were force-fed it instead of rock'n'roll, just as it happened with disco ten years later — The Comets actually managed to make a strong pro-twist argument here. This is still the «classic» version of the band: only Franny Beecher had left in the middle of their twistin' career, but for this particular live session he actually rejoined his old pals, so you do get to hear his take on the twist thing. As for Billy Williamson, Rudy Pompilli, and, of course, Bill himself — they honestly seem to enjoy what they're doing.

The band's biggest and catchiest hit in that vein ('Florida Twist') is played here, and it is all but im­possible to not get involved even if you detest the campy atmosphere. But every now and then they remember to throw in a snappy bite out of the past: as innocent as the title of 'Silbando Y Caminando' ('Whistling And Walking') is, the song is graced by a great pop-rock melody, with a thicker guitar tone, and also more improvisatory and chaotic playing from Beecher than was ever heard in the 1950s. The band also twistifies 'Caravan', which does not lose much from the rear­rangement, and, in fact, manages to sound heavier and gruffer than the original.

In short, the only two not-too-fun numbers on here are the slow ones: '1-2-3 Twist' is a theo­retically amusing, but not too exciting attempt at marrying twist with slow waltz, and the lounge balladry intermission with 'I Want A Little Girl' fails because it's a vocal-oriented number, the likes of which Haley could never pull off next to his idol Big Joe Turner. Everything else, twist or not, is happy fun rock-a-twist that actually deserves to be heard more these days, instead of being confined to Tarantino-style movie soundtracks. Come to think of it, the tastes of Mexican audi­ences weren't that bad in 1962. Minor thumbs up.

Bill Haley: Haley's Juke Box

BILL HALEY: HALEY'S JUKE BOX (1960)

1) Singing The Blues; 2) Candy Kisses; 3) No Letter Today; 4) This Is The Thanks I Get; 5) Bouquet Of Roses; 6) There's A New Moon Over My Shoulder; 7) Cold Cold Heart; 8) The Wild Side Of Life; 9) Anytime; 10) Afraid; 11) I Don't Hurt Anymore; 12) Detour.

Perhaps they thought the move would be fresh — go back to the old country roots, but still ma­king use of their rockabilly experience, not to mention advances in recording and producing tech­nology. But the country-western market, although far from «dead» in 1960 (the day the market for country-western dies is when they cut off electricity support for everything south of the Ma­son-Dixon line), had closed for Haley five years earlier, and since he never was that big a fixture on it in the first place, the commercial strategy behind this venture remains fuzzy. Perhaps — who knows? — it was simply a nostalgia fit on Bill's part. After all, the man loved country-wes­tern, as hard as it is to believe for us slick city dwellers who might think that, once you have turn­ed your back on cowboy music, you can only return to it at gunpoint.

Anyway, there are two good points about this record. First, not all of these tunes suck. Some are taken at fast tempos, reminding the forgetful that country-western does indeed lie at the heart of rockabilly; and some have been chosen from the limited tasteful sectors of the pool, e. g. 'Cold Cold Heart', which is, after all, Hank Williams, and thus somewhat exempt from contempt. Se­cond, the Comets are still a well-oiled band that has not lost its brawny energy behind all the sea­soned professionalism, and they give these tunes all they've got. Predictably, the show is very much stolen away by Billy Williamson, the steel guitarist, but on the uptempo numbers they also find plenty of space for Beecher and Pompilli's solos.

However, the only song that I could see making it onto a best-of collection is Paul Westmore­land's 'Detour': fast, singalong-ish, distinguished by a great soloing duet between Williamson and Beecher, where the first one plays an almost psychedelic pedal steel part, and the latter swiftly undercuts it with sharp boogie-woogie licks. A fabulous performance, unfortunately, buried at the end of an album that, overall, made no impression on anyone — and, unsurprisingly, heralded the end of Haley's short and sweet relationship with Warner Bros., and, subsequently, a swift drift towards total oblivion.