Eric Burdon "Til Your River Runs Dry" 2013****

I got this book in, from all places, Bratislava, Slovakia. I was in town for one day only and went into this bookshop, mostly with the intention of looking for Czechoslovakian rock CD's (which I found - to be presented here sometime). Of course I also spent some time in the English book section, browsing the classics. I had never read (Nobel prizewinner) Sinclair Lewis and thought I'd amend for it. Reading the synopsis on the back covers, this one's plot seemed strangely familiar. Written in 1935, soon after Hitler's rise to power, this book was intended as a warning to U.S. citizens about the danger of fascism. It is the story of "a demagogue who becomes president of the United States by promising to return the country to greatness and by demanding law and order. Lewis describes (President) Windrip as vulgar, almost illiterate, a public liar easily detected, and in his “ideas” almost idiotic". Because of its topical interest (1930's America, fascism) it is considered a lesser work by the author, critics arguing that "Windrip is less a Nazi than a con-man-plus-Rotarian, a manipulator who knows how to appeal to people's desperation". Indeed, that fellow doesn't sound much like Hitler, he sounds more like... Donald Trump. When I bought this book the race for the Republican party nomination was still at its early stages, but a huge what if was already in the air. Well, we're about to find out pretty soon. Europeans associate Trump's victory to an exotic cartoon-figure American singularity "affectionately" known as a redneck. But the rise of populist, often openly racist, parties in Europe proves otherwise. The people are tired of being ignored, of feeling trapped and insecure. They're angry at the system which is obviously not working for them. So who is it working for? Some say the bankers, capitalists and politicians. Some blame the lazy "welfare rats", people whose religion, nationality or skin colour marks them out as "different" and thus prone to who-knows-what depravity, or immigrants and foreigners in general. It seems that the simpler the answer is, and the weaker the target, the more people it convinces. We have gotten so used to corrupt lying politicians advocating beautiful ideas they obviously do not believe in, anyone different seems new and refreshing. Under these circumstances rudeness can be mistaken for sincerity, vulgarity for authenticity, violence for dynamism. I'm afraid we haven't seen the worst of it yet. As frequent readers know, the red text in this blog contains personal thoughts irrelevant to the main subject, in this case Eric Burdon who, as an America-loving Englishman, must feel very frustrated with the election results. One thing's for sure, when he was fantasizing about an "Invitation to the White House", he didn't have Trump on his mind.

I've always liked Burdon and the Animals, but I became a big fan ever since I first saw him perform live - at Athens' Rodon Club in 1988, one of my first rock concerts. He sang with rare passion when you'd expect him to have grown tired of these songs he had been performing daily for 30 years. His voice was also in great form, powerful and emotive even though he never had much of a vocal range. At the time he seemed to be forgotten by everyone, playing small clubs and making albums that went unnoticed by the media and barely got released outside continental Europe where he still had some following. I, of course, tried to collect them all - I'll grant you not every single one stands up well next to his LPs with the Animals and War, but the voice was there and the songs weren't half bad either. Others, less deserving, of his generation made their big comebacks with the help of hip producers, star duets and lots of promotion. It seemed that the music establishment would ignore him forever, until Bruce Springsteen used a highly publicized appearance to talk in length about what a great singer Burdon is, and how he's influenced every last song he (Bruce) had ever written. With the spotlight turned on him for the first time since '71, Burdon seized the opportunity to release his first album in almost a decade... and, all of the sudden, rock critics discovered what was under their nose for 30-odd years. They started obsessing over meaningless details like the record label being the same one that released The Animals' albums (half a century ago) and tapped into the usual writing angles: The Rock Survivor, The Wizened Bluesman, The Unrepentant Hippie etc. He is, no doubt, all that and more. But when I last saw him perform, in The Hague a few years ago, it seemed to me that recognition had come too late: He looked tired and far from the vocal powerhouse I remembered from his concerts of the 80's and 90's. Listening to this album, though, and watching recent clips, I have to suppose I just probably just caught him on a bad day because he sure still has it. His stellar R&B band manages to achieve the warm Southern Soul sound we loved by the giants of black music (those horns and B3 Hammond organ will do the trick every time!) And don't you dare tell me Eric Burdon doesn't play black music. More importantly, don't tell him: he's the man who, 45 years ago, made an album he named The Black-Man's Burdon. Opener "Water" being a bit of an exception, closer to 80's AOR than Soul. Electric guitar and backing vocals may sound a bit dated but he carries it off as he sings with conviction and intend. Apparently inspired by a conversation he had with Mikhail Gorbachev, it's as much a plea for ecological water use as much as it is a personal statement of defiance: "This world is not for me/ I'll make a new one, wait and see/ Hopelessness has seized the land/ I will not beg, I will demand!" Doesn't sound like the words of a septuagenarian, does it? Take some lessons, boys!

"Memorial Day" is a blues rock lament for the casualties of war with an anti-establishment message: "We’ve all been dehumanized/A generation of the same old lies/Security is the alibi...It's a rich man's war but the poor will pay". It's followed by "Devil And Jesus", a smooth Latin funk number about Man's dual essence. Tasty guitar licks and organ reminiscent of his days with War. "Wait" is unexpectedly sensitive: a love song to his Greek wife Mariana, sporting a sensual tango rhythm and sweet acoustic guitar. "Old Habits Die Hard" is another personal number, the unrepentant hard rock sound of an old rebel refusing to act his age and mellow down. "Bo Diddley Special" is a tribute to the rock'n'roll hero of his youth. Of course it utilizes the trademark Bo Diddley beat. Towards the end Burdon is almost rapping instead of singing - old white guys sound embarrassing when they rap, but he's been doing it very naturally since "Spill The Wine" back in 1970. "In The Ground" sees him testifying over a gospel groove and backing vocals, while "27 Forever" is a ballad ruminating over fame and mortality, a heartfelt letter to the rock stars who died young and joined the 27 club. No names are named, but Burdon was friends with both Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix. "River Is Rising" is inspired by the Hurricane Katrina disaster, and the (false) rumor that his musical idol Fats Domino was among its victims. Recorded with members of Domino's band, it has an authentic New Orleans funereal feel, also reminding me of  Dr. John and (more unexpectedly) Nick Cave in "Tupelo" - something about the apocalyptic imagery I guess. Marc Cohn's ballad "Medicine Man" echoes The Animals' big hit "House Of The Rising Sun" without shamelessly copying it. On the bluesy "Invitation to the White House" (half-spoken over a Muddy Waters beat and nocturnal jazz piano) he dreams that the president of U.S. asked him for advice. Obviously not Donald Trump, as he's apparently declared he doesn't need anyone's advice on how to run the country. Let's say it's Obama. Eric answers him he should open the country's borders, pull out of all wars and call off the American soldiers he's scattered around the world. Thankfully it was just a dream, because any real U.S. president (Obama included) would have the Secret Service kick Burdon's ass out of the White House. The album ends with a Bo Diddley cover "Before You Accuse Me". It's a sturdy and workmanlike performance, but I've heard that song so many times it's hard to be impressed by any new rendition of it. If I had to use a headline for my review, it'd be better late than never. Now that the world has woken up to how lucky we are to still have rock and soul giants like Eric Burdon among us, let's hope he still has a few touring years and a couple more albums in him. He's not the kind to ever give up, that much is certain. 

**** for Water, Devil And Jesus, Wait, Old Habits Die Hard, Bo Diddley Special, In The Ground,

*** for Memorial Day, 27 Forever, River Is Rising, Medicine Man, Invitation to the White House, Before You Accuse Me

Quicksilver Messenger Service "Happy Trails" 1969****

I owe my discovery of "Happy Trails" (and psychedelic rock, in general) to the older brother of a former girlfriend, waaay back in the late 80's in Athens. That was the time before youtube, before MP3's and music downloads, when listening to such outré music was really difficult. State radio was indifferent to rock (with the exception of legendary dj Yannis Petridis). Pirate stations would play some rock, though you'd be much more likely to hear stuff like Deep Purple rather than Quicksilver. Record store employees were one source of information, friends another. Girlfriends with older siblings sometimes came in handy. So one afternoon I armed myself with a few C-90 cassettes and secretely recorded a bunch of said sibling's records, carefully putting everything back exactly the way I found it, since we had been in a restricted area. Valuable finds from this excursion included Country Joe & The Fish, the Chocolate Watch Band, Mad River, Sopwith Camel and some others you could probably spend a lifetime listening to the radio and never come across. "Happy Trails" was another find, and it is one of those records that music critics feel obliged to vote for at polls (yes, it's one of the albums you must hear before you die) but I'll bet they very rarely listen to. Because, let's face it, a 26-minute jam around a Bo Diddley beat isn't everybody's cup of tea. It was, of course, very revolutionary and psychedelic at the time (only 4 years before, any song longer than 3 minutes would have been rejected for being too long for the radio). Most of the album was recorded live in front of the hippy-friendly audience of The Fillmore in San Francisco. Side 1 of the LP was the band's version of "Who Do You Love", divided in sections that allowed every member a place in the spotlight. The introductory killer rendition of "Who Do You Love" is followed by "When You Love", essentially an extended jazzy guitar solo by Gary Duncan. "Where You Love" is a loose improvisation with audience participating and "How You Love" a shorter, hard rocking, solo by John Cipollina. "Which Do You Love" is bassist David Freiberg's turn to shine before going full circle with "Who Do You Love? (Part 2)". Side 2 contained another long Bo Diddley cover ("Mona") with excellent fretwork by the two guitarists (Always Duncan on the left channel, Cipollina on the right) and two instrumentals, "Maiden of the Cancer Moon" and "Calvary", a 13-minute improvisation with Morricone flourishes. The album closes with "Happy Trails" a short simple cowboy song which is in complete contrast to everything that went before. Generally the record is rather experimental and too much of its time, but you have to admire the inventive guitar playing and intuitive collaboration between the musicians. I don't listen to it very often, but I couldn't possibly give it less than 4 stars...

**** for "Who Do You Love? - Part 1, When You Love, Mona, Calvary

*** for How You Love, Which Do You Love, Who Do You Love - Part 2, Maiden of the Cancer Moon, Happy Trails

** for Where You Love