After the multi-colored explosion of
counter-culture and youth exaltation that took place in mid to late 1960’s
America, there was a desire for something maybe a little less experimental, maybe
a little less world-changing and maybe a little more…fun. In the world of
popular music there was a small but meaningful group of bands who were
(re)discovering the joy and heritage of American roots music. Groups like Dan
Hicks and His Hot Licks, N.R.B.Q., Asleep at the Wheel and The New Riders of the
Purple Sage were discovering the past and finding that it was a blast to play
this kind of music. Audiences were equally desperate for something that
required less thinking and more dancing. In thrall of classic outfits like Bob
Wills and His Texas Playboys, Louis Jordan and His Tympani Five, Tex Ritter,
and The Johnny Otis Revue, these bands were finding that they were not the
first musicians to jump in a bus and travel across the land bringing high times
to the people. One of the most legendary and hard partying of these bands was
Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen. Starting in Michigan and landing in
the Bay Area, they released their first album Lost In The Ozone in
1971. Like the aforementioned American big bands and revues, The Airmen brought
a joyous repertoire of originals and classic Americana to the stage and gave
the hippies a much-needed emotional break.
There is nothing fancy, tricky, artsy or fartsy
about The Airmen’s music. It is basically revved-up country and western with a
bit of R&B thrown in. The Commander himself (George Frayne IV) was a
trained painter and sculptor whose love of boogie-woogie piano led him to leave
the academic path (he has doubled a college professor) and hit the road with a
crack eight-piece big band to give the people what they want. And boy could
they deliver! The album kicks off with a clear statement of purpose, “Back To
Tennessee,” “Wine Do Yer Stuff” and “Seeds And Stems (Again)” tell us with no
uncertainty that these boys want to get back to the country and start the
Par-Tay! And that is exactly what they do. They do not let up. The hallmarks of
this great band were the Commander’s pumping boogie-woogie, Billy C. Farlow’s
authentic vocal stylings, Bill Kirchin’s world-class guitar picking and the
addition of non-traditional rock instruments like pedal-steel guitar, fiddle
and the occasional horns. The original material makes the dichotomy of
country/hippie life clear, and then the raucous cover versions that round out
the album bridge that gulf in fine form.
The album ends with an uproarious live version
of “Beat Me Daddy Eight To The Bar,” one
of the greatest songs about the joy of making and listening to music. A big
band hit going back to 1941, it was a wonderful reminder to contemporary
audiences of the fundamental importance music can play in lifting our spirits
from the mundane or cruel realities of day to day life. With Vietnam about to
crest and Watergate on the near horizon that wasn’t the worst thing.
“When He
Jams It’s A Ball, He’s The Daddy Of Them All!
The Rhythm
He Play Puts Those Cats In A Trance, Nobody There Bothers To Dance.
When They
Jam With A Bass And Guitar, They Holler: Oh Beat Me Daddy Eight To The Bar!”
-
Paul
Epstein
No comments:
Post a Comment