Friday, July 27, 2012

BftRB Presents: Grind Shop Vol. 2 (Strangeland Mix)

Turning Myself Nto Energy - Axis (France)
Witch's Wand - Luv Machine (Barbados)
Sul Tuo Letto Di Morte - I Giganti (Italy)
Snuki - Omega (Hungary)
You've Got Freedom - Joel Dayde (France)
Vambo Marble Eye - The Sensational Alex Harvey Band (Scotland)
Liar - Kin Ping Meh (Germany)
Se Non E' Amore Cos'e' - Formula 3 (Italy)
Fluid - Twink (England)

*Note: Just like the Olympics but w/o drug testing!!!
Special thanks to M. (Vinyl Dog) Poletti for the hook-up.


BftRB Presents: Grind Shop Vol. 2 (Strangeland Mix)


Thursday, July 26, 2012


Currently Reading...

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition
by Yvonne P. Chireau

"Black Magic looks at the origins, meaning, and uses of Conjure--the African American tradition of healing and harming that evolved from African, European, and American elements--from the slavery period to well into the twentieth century. Illuminating a world that is dimly understood by both scholars and the general public, Yvonne P. Chireau describes Conjure and other related traditions, such as Hoodoo and Rootworking, in a beautifully written, richly detailed history that presents the voices and experiences of African Americans and shows how magic has informed their culture. Focusing on the relationship between Conjure and Christianity, Chireau shows how these seemingly contradictory traditions have worked together in a complex and complementary fashion to provide spiritual empowerment for African Americans, both slave and free, living in white America. As she explores the role of Conjure for African Americans and looks at the transformations of Conjure over time, Chireau also rewrites the dichotomy between magic and religion. With its groundbreaking analysis of an often misunderstood tradition, this book adds an important perspective to our understanding of the myriad dimensions of human spirituality."

Currently Watching...

White Lighning (1973)

"After Gator McKlusky is arrested for selling moonshine, the police agree to set him free if he will help them catch the main players in the local whiskey-running business. Gator agrees in order to get out of jail, and for revenge, because the ring leader of his competition is the man who killed his younger brother."


Monday, June 18, 2012

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

BftRB presents: Grind Shop Vol. 1 (Authority Mix)

Camel Back - A.B Skhy
Get It On - Chase
Snap Out - Interpertations
Let's Do It Again - Billy Sha Rae
One More Time Ya'll - New Sound Express Ltd.
No Count Entertainin' Man - Larry Nettles
Amen, Brother - Winstons
I Dig Girls - J.J. Jackson
You - Groovin' Strings & Things


Blues for the RedBoy presents: Grind Shop Vol. 1 (The Authority Mix)


Tuesday, June 12, 2012

My Blue Heaven

Currently Watching...

Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things - 1972

"Five young kinky actors and their artistic director come to a desolate and nearly forgotten burial island, complete with a morbid history of MURDER, RAPE, CURSES and DEMONS. Alan (Alan Ormsby), the brilliant but bizarre Director of the company, has brought them to this foreboding place to dabble in witchcraft; specifically to dig up a fresh corpse and use it in a ritual ceremony which is supposed to raise the dead from their graves.The PAY-OFF: It seems as though Alan has really gathered his "children" here, only to play a practical joke on them and then to party the rest of the night away. However, the joke's on Alan. His bizarre ritual ceremony really does raise the dead from their graves...only they're in no mood to party! NOTE: "BENJAMIN" CLARK is really "BOB" CLARK, the creative director behind the hit films PORKY'S, BLACK CHRISTMAS and A CHRISTMAS STORY among others. ALAN ORMSBY, though he turned in what has been described as " of the most obnoxious screen performances in history!", has actually made a mark for himself as the screenwriter for such memorable films as MY BODYGUARD, CAT PEOPLE, KARATE KID 3 and PORKY'S 2."


Thursday, May 10, 2012

Currently Reading.

Where Dead Voices Gather
by Nick Tosches

"[This] startling and mesmerising music," he enthuses in the opening paragraph of Dead Voices, "seemed to be a Rosetta Stone to the understanding of the mixed and mongrel blood-lines of country and blues, of jazz and pop, of all that we know as American music." In Country, the writer pinpointed [Emmett] Miller's potential influence on the likes of Jimmie Rodgers, Bob Wills, Hank Williams and even Bo Diddley (whose seminal voodoo rocker "Who Do You Love" steals some of its lyrical content from an old Miller black-face comedy routine). But when it came to describing Miller's life and times, he found himself engulfed in mystery: no photographs, an incomplete discography, the few still alive who knew him giving vague, conflicting accounts."

- The Guardian

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Okeh 40239

The missing link of the "Missing Link"?

Contrary to popular belief, the blues is just pop music. I know, I know, I wanted it to mean something more too, but the blues was only ever a copy of a copy of a copy; like a copper engraving, it’s most indelible imprint begun earlier in it's material life, time and sentimentality having worn the crisp quality of that negative space down to the point where both depth and shadow are now flat with the fatigue of a thousand lesser works. Even in its day the blues was derivative and suffered from the same hobgoblins of every artistic endeavor, mainly that it was never an artistic endeavor to begin with – it was always ever about money. And why shouldn’t it have been? Slavishness to authenticity is, after all, a modern contrivance, and besides, a man’s got to live and eat and those things tend to work themselves out - more often than not - with a guitar in one's hand.

While the whole of the genre is eminently listenable, there are fleeting moments that defy convention, moments where we recognize innovation at work within inspiration, much like the Devil who mixes lies with the truth in the interests of enticing one to swallow the former at the insistence of the latter.

True: Robert Johnson’s Love in Vain shares more than a passing resemblance to Joshua White’s When the Sun Goes Down (pre hand injury), but I submit that it is not Johnson’s implied devilry which is noteworthy (Blues has always ever courted superstition and, likewise, minorities were ever associated with witchery), but the fact that Johnson - by 1937 - had improved upon the mechanics of his contemporaries to the point where by the time of his untimely death he had effectively whipped the medium till the butter came. Can anybody truly say that the medium as been improved upon since Johnson’s time?

Similarly, If Emmett Miller had only taken hokum to its logical conclusion, namely that anachronistic collision with the jazz age presaged by the success of his contemporaries, then he would have truly been relegated to the dustbin that is ignominious death, but as we are talking about him now in glowing superlatives it is apparent that Miller survived the grist mill that is pop music and came out the other side intact, lauded even. Why? After all, the man was a Blackface Minstrel, and as such, propriety dictate his legacy be chiseled off of every obelisk of cultural relevance - a heretic.

Miller's voice, for one - his is an instrument which is free in a way that most people could never be. Intoned as much as the words are sung, each vowel is impregnated with the kind of emotion which, though undeniably melodramatic, is capable of dragging even the most sentimental claptrap to the kind of lofty heights which betray the limited scope of late 19th / early 20th century balladry.

My experience with Miller begins, as most do, over whiskey and beers, “Hey, did you ever hear the earlier version of Love Sick Blues that Hank William ripped off”, a half-truth which, as an avowed Hiram Williams fan, was bound to elicit a curiosity beyond what one might deem as healthy (Thanks Peter). What's more, it changed the way I looked at music. It was no longer a question of authenticity (There's that word again) , but an elliptical undercurrent of repeating motifs transcending race and nationality. Motifs which have shamelessly been passed off as contemporary but, in reality, belong to no one author - like the elemental formula for oxygen, the very spirit of public domain.

Jump ahead several years to an unassuming Saturday morning at a local junk shop, a veritable Kingdom of the Spiders stinkin' to high heaven of kerosene and promise. After several hours diggin' I had managed to amass a small stack of 78s, slick with white mold but otherwise unremarkable save for a pair of Sugar Chile Robinson discs. It seems strange now, but were it not for the rusty math of the elderly caretaker tallying up my spoils, I might not have wandered off into the periphery and chanced a sealed box containing what were otherwise Caruso and Wagner discs, a heavy stack upon who’s top brazenly sat a near mint copy of Okeh 40329, Emmett Miller and Walt Rothrock performing Anytime and Pickaninnies’ Paradise. All told, the record cost me a dollar - the last fair deal gone down.

Cut in 1924, this disc is a long way from Ashville, NC, though  if I had to hazard a guess I would say Miller’s patronage of RCA’s Camden recording studio during the 20’s and a rumored engagement at Atlantic City’s Steel Pier might just account for the 78’s appearance this far north. Regardless, it’s a small miracle considering up until ten years ago this record was thought not to exist at all (Famously omitted from Columbia’s Miller retrospective as no copies could be located), and even now, conventional wisdom numbers those copies still in existence at three.

Concerning the quality of the performance, I’ll let the music speak to its own strength. As to what I take away from Miller and the strange circumstances of his posthumous celebrity? Simple, history is a complicated and ugly thing, but no more so than it's authors. One day someone will pick through your wreckage having not known the particulars of your circumstances. If you would have them give you the benefit of the doubt then you owe your contemporaries and, likewise, the contemporaries of your heroes, nothing less.

Anytime – Emmett Miller (featuring Walt Rothrock)

Picanninnies’ Paradise – Emmett Miller (featuring Walt Rothrock)

RedBoy XLI


You Broke Mah Heart Cause I Couldn't Blog. You Didn't Even Want Me Around...

But Now I'm Back to Let You Know I Can Really Shake'Em Down...

Friday, March 4, 2011

Blues for the RedBoy Presents: The Integrated-Ass Crowd Mix!

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I’m late. But if I wasn’t late, I wouldn’t be me, then where would I be!? Don’t answer that. Instead, know that I’ve been hip deep in lawyers and real-estate agents as of late and just as the deal was about to crystallize on a 250 year old mansion in Spanktown, it fell through – as in’ Through the back corner of the foundation and into the basement where it put a ten foot crack in the cast-iron septic line. Oh well, nothin’ cures a case of the doldrums like some sexually suggestive funk & soul, so please excuse me while I whip this out…

You will find scant words in this mix, which is fine by me as I have my own problems to worry about without having to listen to people bitch about the trials of life decades removed. Take Concerto in F by the Willie and the Might Magnificent for example. No bullshit here, just a “Funky Beat” that’s “In My Soul” backed by a track so thick that one might break their face walking into it unknowingly. It’s also somewhat of a mystery track as this comp will eventually divulge, as it appears on various labels, by various bands, and w/ various names. Can’t say for sure who’s hand is in it, sufficed to say that it’s in elbow deep.

If I were hard pressed to pick a follow-up to ‘Willie’, I could do a lot worse than the Dapps, ‘Bringin’ Up the Guitar’ on King records. Perhaps best known for their King collaboration with Hank ‘The Twist’ Ballard, the Dapps prove that they can headline their own discs in spades and that sometimes it pays to feed a guitarists ego (Dangerous as that might be). Seriously though, all those minor melodies get major props from me.

I’ve got a soft spot for this third track. First, the Nike label calls to mind the Nike missile defense system, who’s abandon silos scattered about NJ I have had the distinct pleasure of being drunk in at one time or another. I might have even spray painted a pentagram or two (Who can say?). Second, ‘Boogaloo Tramp’ and it’s flip are evenly matched in that they are practically the same goddamned song w/ different lyrics (Not that Boogaloo Tramp really has lyrics). It’s like my grandma always says, “When in doubt, go w/ the Boogaloo.”

Since I already broke the dam w/ a King records release, I might as well buttress a James Brown reference w/ a cool cover of the Godfather’s ‘Hold It’ on the N-Joy label. I’ve been meanin to post this track by its lonesome for some time, but not unlike a plate of eggs o'er hash browns, the beauty is in mashin’ it up and thrown a handful o pepper on it.

Speakin of mash up, it just occurred to me that this next cut, ‘Sock It To Me pt 2’ is also a James Brown ovure. I’ve always liked the flip better than the requisite pt 1. My only gripe is the band’s name. I mean, the Deacons!? What a stupid name (wink).

I know this next track as ‘Turbo Rock’ by the Turbos on Turbo Records (Clever, huh?), so you can imagine my surprise when I heard it under the name ‘Backlash’, listed as being by one George Kerr and pressed on ‘All Platinum’, a label which is responsible for the dome-piece of this-here head case mix, Soulin’ w/ the Whatnauts!

If this track sounds a lot like the dub b-side of ‘Concerto in F’ by Willie & the Mighty Magnificents, that because it is! Released on the ‘Stang’ label ‘Soulin’, like ‘Turbo Rock’ seems to have followed several soul labels around as a canned b-side. Be it by the Mighty Magnificents or the Whatnauts, it’s perfect for sealin’ the deal on this here mix.

Until next time, remember: the honey is for the eater, the aloe is for the peter and the chicken-fat make it finger lickin’ good!

BftRB Presents: The Integrated-Ass Crowd Mix! (Brought to by Kentucky Colonel’s Douche Powder)

RedBoy XL

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

All This AND Goat Stew?

Grabbed this slab o' chevron outta Vinyl Dog's box of table scraps (Thanks) @ the last Highland Park Record Sale (AKA. Iselin Record Swap-Meet thingy) and I ain't stopped stirrin' it since. I mean, it has goat sounds in it, right? What more do you need? Awesome instrumental soul track? Done and done.

The 'Freddie' of these Kin folk would be Freddie Scott, drummer extraordinaire from that Black Lagoon down Florida way. He cut a couple o' discs for area labels before the gators got him, I guess?

Practically guaranteed not to disappoint, look for the equally awesome, if not slightly goat-less flip in an up and coming (As in it's finished, so it won't be a lifetime commin')BftRB soul mix.

You're just going to have to be content with a large ladle full o' goat in the meantime. Doesn't that sound good?

The Goat - Freddie & the Kinfolk

Monday, January 17, 2011

Falcon Crest

Here's two majestic birds from that crate o' killer Doo-Wop from several months back. Weird, cause neither of these songs are particularly Doo-Wopy (Doo-Wopish!?) and are pretty much exceptions to the rule. In fact, one is a devistating blues rocker (59') w/ Ax effects in full, um, effect, whilst the Big-Wheel cut is about as close as I get to poppy (Poppish!?) soul (67') without pinchin' my nose closed and throwing up in my mouth a little bit (Better than somebody elses).

Fact: these Falcons are the same band, though with some decidedly incestious member-swappin', including Wilson 'The Pick" Pickett and Eddie "Knock on Wood" Floyd. Incidentally, listen for the chops of Lu Pine's 'Ohio Untouchables' (Pre Ohio Players) roundin' out the sound on the first first cut.

Swim - Falcons

I Can't Help It - Falcons

Currently Watching...

Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti (1985)

"A black and white documentary film about dance and possession in Haitian vodou that was shot by experimental filmmaker Maya Deren between 1947 and 1952 and edited and completed by Deren's third husband Teiji Ito and his wife Cherel Winett Ito (1947-1999) in 1981, twenty years after Deren's death. Most of the film consists of images of dancing and bodies in motion during rituals in Rada and Petro services. Deren had studied dance as well as photography and filmmaking. She originally went to Haiti with the funding from a Guggenheim fellowship and the stated intention of filming the dancing that forms a crucial part of the vodou ceremony. The film that resulted, however, reflected Deren's increasing personal engagement with vodou and its practitioners (Wilcken, 1986). While this ultimately resulted in Deren disregarding the guidelines of the fellowship, Deren was able to record scenes that probably would have been inaccessible to other filmmakers. Deren's original notes, film footage, and wire recordings are in the Maya Deren Collection at Boston University's Howard Gotlieb Archive Research Center."