BETTY DAVIS - THE COLUMBIA YEARS 1968-1969 (2016)

In Miles Davis’s autobiography, Miles, he calls ex-wife, Betty (Davis nee Mabry) ‘a talented motherfucker’; it’s the highest form of accolade given by a man not known to freely dish out the superlatives.

In May 1969, approximately halfway through their year-long marriage, with a band assembled by Miles featuring Mitch Mitchell, Harvey Brooks, Billy Cox, Herbie Hancock, Wayne Shorter, Larry Young and John McLaughlin, Betty Davis recorded a session for Columbia Records in New York with producer Teo Macero. Unheard since, not even known to bootleggers, The Columbia Years finally reveals not only the roots of Betty’s raunchy funk - she’d wait another four years to unleash the first of her four super-funky albums – but also Miles tentatively exploring the jazz-fusion groove that he’d begun with In a Silent Way and would soon manifest in Bitches Brew.

A couple of points to note. Most importantly, this was not, as it could appear, a husband using his influence and clout with his record company to cut a deal for a wife of limited abilities. Betty had already cut a few singles and seen her songs used by others. She had (motherfucking) talent, looks, attitude, knew her own mind and was also the one who, still in her early 20s, hipped Miles (by then, virtually ancient, in his 40s) to the psychedelic rock stew of Jimi Hendrix, Sly Stone and James Brown’s latest bag and kitted him out in the latest with-it clobber. The second point is if you consider Bitches Brew an instrument of torture, don’t let that put you off here as the results are far more accessible.

Why Columbia passed on the result is a mystery on this evidence. The playing – jazzy R&B with a funk twist – cooks and Betty’s vocals are sassy as hell yet less abrasive than they’d become. Cream and Creedence Clearwater Revival are covered by ‘Politician Man’ and ‘Born of the Bayou’ respectively but mostly Betty brings her originals to an exuberant party and the snatches of conversation between Betty and Miles demonstrate they both brought ideas into a shared creative process. These were only demos, and only enough for one side of an album, but it’s abundantly clear how much fun everyone had in the studio. Miles at one point asking, “What’s Jimi Hendrix drummer’s name? The one they call Mitch…” before falling into a fit of wheezing cackling laughter.

Three 1968 Hugh Masekela backed numbers, including a footstomping ‘My Soul Is Tired’, round things off in a more traditional full 60s soul style. As always with Light In The Attic releases it’s well packaged with interviews and commentary in the accompanying booklet. Stripped of historical interest this is an engaging half hour; with it, utterly compelling.

The Columbia Years is released by Light In The Attic Records on LP and CD.

An edited version of his review appears in the current issue of Shindig! magazine.

JUNE PLAYLIST

Daniel Romano - Mosey

These have provided some shelter from the storm that has been June.

1.  Robert Johnson – ‘Hellhound On My Trail’ (1937)

“Blues fallin' down like hail, blues fallin' down like hail,

And the day keeps on worrin’ me,

There's a hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail…”

2.  Miles Davis – ‘Dig?’ (1951)

From Davis’s first complete LP as bandleader, The New Sounds. Now available as part of Miles Davis: The Complete Prestige 10-Inch LP Collection.

3.  The Kinks – ‘Where Have All The Good Times Gone’ (1965)

Mark Hamill attempted to prod Ray Davies for his thoughts on the referendum vote during their conversation on Sunday at Hornsey Town Hall but Ray made a point of saying he’s always avoided talking politics. He then played this.

4.  Nita Rossi – ‘Something To Give’ (1966)

An exuberant Rossi more than holds her own on top of this thunderous chuck-in-the-kitchen-sink Brit-Soul production.

5.  Gene Harris & The Three Sounds – ‘Black Gold’ (1973)

Gene tinkles the ivories in an almost Mick Talbotesque manner on this stylish splash of summer produced by Monk Higgins. Now there’s a name.

6.  Hollywood Brats – ‘Sick On You’ (1973)

One of the greatest recordings in the whole history of rock ‘n’ roll – singer Andrew Matheson may quibble with “one of” – rings with ever louder resonance. “I’m sick to death of everything you do, yeah, and if I run to up to you, I bet I’m gonna puke on you”. Look out for new deluxe Cherry Red reissue on 6 July of Sick On You with a second disc of previously unheard outtakes, rarities, live tracks and curios.

7.  McCarthy – ‘Governing Takes Brains’ (1989)

“So let me assure you it's no picnic to be in charge of this land

You scruffy people, the lower orders, just know your place

Don't ever you try at governing you might find out how difficult it is

Stupid fools say it's not hard to do what I do

But let me tell you, it's hard, you couldn't do what I do

Don't even dream of it, you would never succeed

People as clever as me are very few and far between...”

8.  Teenage Fanclub – ‘I’m In Love’ (2016)

Rejoice, the Fanclub (I can’t bring myself to call them Fannies) are back. A very welcome shot of loveliness.

9.  Daniel Romano – ‘I’m Alone Now’ (2016)

Highlight of recent weeks was catching Daniel Romano twice in one evening: an acoustic in-store set at Rough Trade and a plugged rocking show at the Lexington. New album, Mosey, on first couple of plays appears startlingly different from previous straight(ish) country releases but once the ears adjust Romano has taken his core sound and cleverly stretches it into new directions.

10.  Ancient Shapes – ‘Navigator’ (2016)

As if to underscore how Daniel Romano isn’t for pigeonholing, he quietly released an album as Ancient Shapes on the same day as Mosey. A speeding pop-punk romp as if Bob Dylan had teamed up with Buzzcocks in 1978.

APRIL PLAYLIST

Get yer lugs around these...

1.  Jimmy Forrest –‘Night Train’ (1952)

The Night Train James Brown boarded, here in its original winding version. Some say Forrest pinched the tune from his former bandleader Duke Ellington (‘Happy-Go-Lucky Local’). You can hear it but you can follow these things back to banging rocks if you try hard enough. If Led Zeppelin wanna employ me in court with that as a defence I’ll cut ‘em a decent rate.

2.  Miles Davis – ‘Miles Ahead’ (1957)

Watched the new Miles Ahead film yesterday. The mix of fact and fiction didn’t bother me like I thought it would - it’s easy to differentiate, even to folks with little knowledge of the subject – and the selective non-linear telling worked well. Don Cheadle was believable as Miles (I’m now only gonna talk in a husky whisper) but Ewan McGregor’s role (and his acting) was such bullshit and naff it spoilt what had a makings of a decent film. Three stars from Barry Norman here.

3.  Johnny Griffin Orchestra – ‘Wade In The Water’ (1960)

Opener from tenor saxophonist Griffin’s does-what-it-says-on-the-sleeve, The Big Soul Band, LP. Gospel, jazz and soul all in one, well, Big Soul Band. Great track, great album. 

4.  Keith Relf – ‘Mr Zero’ (1966)

Solo Yardbird 45 written by Bob Lind has a wordy “left the cake out in the rain” feel to it. Scraped to number 50 fifty years ago.

5.  Butterfield Blues Band – ‘Nut Popper #1’ (1964)

Mike Bloomfield tears it up on guitar but it’s Paul Butterfield himself who steals the show on his driving harp led instrumental from an Elektra session only weeks after the band’s formation.

6.  Brother Jack McDuff – ‘Butter (For Yo Popcorn)’ (1969)

Not your popcorn, but yo popcorn. Word.

7.  Steve Davis – ‘Lalune Blanche’ (1970)

No, not him off the snooks but another one singing in French and playing organ. Got George Clinton on vibraphone too, no not him off the Mothership but another one. It’s all very confusing but very laid-back cool too.

8.  The Auteurs – ‘How Can I Be Wrong’ (1993)

I think the combination of them being blown away at early gigs by Suede and Luke Haines’s shit hair meant I practically ignored the Auteurs during the 90s. However, since reading Haines’s very funny account of those days in his Bad Vibes and watching the documentary Art Will Save The World I’ve dipped my toe in their debut – and Mercury Prize runner-up – New Wave and it’s, surprisingly, almost as good as he claims.

9.  Charles Bradley – ‘Ain’t It A Sin’ (2016)

Good God! Charlie attempts to lead a righteous life while cutting some serious rug to this frugging chugger.

10.  The See No Evils – ‘That’s Right With Me’ (2016)

The See No Evils’ Inner Voices is the best straight-ahead garage LP I’ve heard for many a years and the wild Pretty Things rave-up of ‘That’s Right With Me’ exemplifies their approach.

NOVEMBER PLAYLIST

The Standells

1.  Mark Murphy – “Li’l Darlin’” (1961)

Ace Records this month issued a new comp, Georgie Fame Heard Them Here First, featuring 25 tracks covered by our Georgie. Such was the vast array of tracks to pick from, this, from Murphy’s Rah, didn’t make the cut.

2.  Brian Auger – “Blues Three Four” (1961)

Pre-Hammond Auger, here demonstrating his jazz chops on the piano. It’s the opening track on a new Brian Auger anthology Back To The Beginning. Unfortunately the collection is let down by poor liner notes which don’t supply details of where this track was taken, so I’ve guessed the year. Possibly recorded with Dave Morse? Answers to the usual address.

3.  The Wanderers – “After He Breaks Your Heart” (1963)

Led by Ray Pollard, the Wanderers had already recorded for a decade before they cut this typically clean New York slice of Big City Soul for United Artists. Now included on the superb new Lost Without You: The Best Of Kent Ballads 2 compilation for Kent.

4.  The Pirates – “Cuttin’ Out” (1965)

Tough switchblade slashing rockabilly punk from a Texan combo who left behind a couple of 45s, this being their highlight.

5.  Jimmy Witherspoon – “Man Don’t Cry” (1965)

From Jimmy’s swinging Spoon In London which attempted to place him in a slightly more pop-soul setting. That said, “Man Don’t Cry” is a haunting, big voiced, big band creeper.

6.  David Bowie – “Let Me Sleep Beside You” (1967)

Recorded on 1 September 1967 for Deram, “Let Me Sleep Beside You” was the first Bowie single produced by Tony Visconti who sat a neat bass and drum rhythm on top of a sweep of strings. I'm generally indifferent to Bowie but like this. 

7.  The Standells – “Looking At Tomorrow” (1967)

The Standells production team went to town on this, creating a clanging echo drenched protest number with composer Larry Tamblyn taking lead vocals and putting his organ high in the mix. That’s not a euphemism.

8.  Miles Davis - "Bitches Brew" (1970)

On any given day the same piece of music (and I'm primarily talking jazz here) can either enthral or infuriate. Depending on one's mood, 27 minutes of this one track could easily do either.

9.  Hollywood Brats – “Sick On You” (1973)

After my effusive praise for Andrew Matheson’s recent memoir, Sick On You, it was little surprise to see Mojo magazine crown it Book of the Year. The song of the same name should’ve similarly won accolades in the year of its completion.    

10.  The Stairs – “Flying Machine” (1991)

From side two of their first EP and the second song played at Thursday’s reunion gig in Liverpool, setting the tone for what was a triumphant return, exceeding all expectations. More about this later.