Category Archives: obit

Obit: Don Covay (1939-2015)

by

covayAnother pioneer of the rock’n’soul scene left us last week with the passing of Don Covay.

My first memory of Covay was when his hit Popeye Waddle was released in 1962, but his legacy and influence actually date half a decade earlier, and lasted a lot longer than the Waddle, which peaked at #75 on the  Billboard charts.

Covay started his pop music career with the Rainbows, a singing group that also featured Marvin Gaye and Billy Stewart, and in 1957, joined Little Richard as both his driver and opening act. Richard also produced Covay’s first single, Bip Bop Bip.

Covay then formed the band The Goodtimers, and also began songwriting in the Brill Building, penning songs for Solomon Burke, Gladys Knight, and Aretha Franklin (Chain of Fools).

But, his best know song is probably Mercy Mercy, recorded with the Goodtimers, released in 1964, which peaked at #35, and was covered by a number of artists including the Stones (on Out of Our Heads) and which featured Jimi Hendrix.

Covay continued to work with some big names: Steve Cropper and Booker T., Paul Rodgers, and Ronnie Wood (who organized a tribute album for Covay) and others.

Similarly, his songs were recorded by a large and varied crowd, including The Small Faces, Gene Vincent, Wanda Jackson, Peter Wolf, Steppenwolf, and Connie Francis.

Covay died of a stroke last week, but he leaves some good stuff behind.

OBIT: Rose Marie McCoy

by

Screenshot 2015-02-04 14.53.13In her long life, Rose Marie McCoy wrote more than 800 songs, left rural Arkansas behind, came north to New Jersey and got a chance to pass judgement on Elvis Presley before he was a star.

“We thought he was terrible, because we thought he couldn’t sing,” Ms. McCoy recalled.

But her song, written with long-time partner Charles Singleton, Trying to Get to You, ended up in the Pelvis’s Sun Sessions.

Her first hit was also Big Maybelle’s first hit, Gabbin’ Blues, with Rose Marie offering up the dozens.

She died earlier this week. I’d never heard of her until I read her obituary this morning.

There was a biography written about McCoy a couple of years ago, called Thought We Were Writing the Blues: But They Called It Rock ‘n’ Roll.

OBIT: Edgar Froese

by

When I heard that Tangerine Dream’s Edgar Froese had died I immediately thought of Michael Mann’s first movie, Thief, which starred James Caan. I may have heard of Tangerine Dream before that, but I wasn’t a fan of synth-driven atmospherics and certainly didn’t follow them.

But Thief grabs you with a terrific opening scene that propels into the story with terse visuals, no dialogue, and Tangerine Dream’s immersive and propulsive score. It makes me want to watch the whole movie again.

RIP/Classic Nuggets: Kim Fowley (1939-2015)

by

What do The Hollywood Argyles/Joan Jett/The Runaways/B. Bumble and the Stingers/The Seeds/Alice Cooper/KISS/Helen Reddy/Steel Pulse/Bread and John Lennon have in common?

Part of their careers, including songs they recorded was pushed in some way by singer/songwriter/producer/manager Kim Fowley. And, there are a lot more.

Fowley died January 15, and he had a career so varied and extensive, that it is useless to paraphrase. I will just give you the Wiki link to him.

Below is the song Fowley produced that was the most fun (at least to me). But, check him out. I promise there is a band or artist you like on the list.

 

 

 

Obit: Robert Stone

by

Yes, a writer. But a writer attached to music. His first novel, which some dismiss, was a wild tale of political forces facing off in New Orleans in the 1960s, centered on a radio DJ. In Hall of Mirrors the city pulses with his soundtrack, and nothing good and everything great comes of that.

His fantastic second book, about Viet Nam and CIA drug smuggling, Dog Soldiers, ended up linked to one of rock’s great songs, Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Who’ll Stop the Rain,” which became the name for the movie version.

 

Stone wrote one more great book, Flag for Sunrise, and then some novels I didn’t like that much, though many did. He also wrote some engaging essays about living in the 60s, which had a biographical gravity that is hard to escape. Especially if you lived the 60s as hard as Stone did.

If you haven’t read Robert Stone you should. I would start at the beginning and move forward chronologically. Hall of Mirrors is far from his best book, but it is a book most of us wish we wrote when we were young and too often stoned.

 

 

Obit: Joe Cocker (1944-2014)

by

Joe Cocker, late of the Grease Band and a great Woodstock performance, died of lung cancer today (making him also now late of life).

I cannot really say I liked Cocker live better than I liked John Belushi riffing on the whole schtick, but there is no question the Cocker’s seminal interpretation of the Beatles With A Little Help From My Friends is a fantastic and riveting performance.

Not much more to add or subtract beyond showing that shining moment in time and space.

Obit: Ian McLagan

by

He was the keyboard player in the Small Faces and then the Faces, and played with everyone, including the Stones on Miss You. And he had a stroke yesterday, and died today.

He married Keith Moon’s widow years ago, and eventually settled in Austin, then lost her to a car accident. His last project was a supergroup of old guys: The Cars Elliot Easton on guitar, Blondie’s Clem Burke on drums, the Romantic’s lead singer Wally Palmar, and the Chesterfield King’s bass player, Andy Babiuk. They called themselves The Empty Hearts (well, they asked Steve Van Zandt for a name and he suggested this one.) The arrangements are spare but McLagan contributes piano and organ where appropriate.

Sounds a little like the Smithereens, which isn’t a bad thing.

Lunch Break: Cream, “Deserted Cities of the Heart”

by

I was lucky enough to see Cream in 1968, during their first big American tour. I was just 15, but they knocked me out. Oddly, the opening act was the Grateful Dead, who played Alligator for an hour, and that was it, making it really hard for me to warm up to the band for a number of years (Workingman’s Dead started the change).

They were great, and I do indeed love Fresh Cream, though curiously, nothing by the band made my essentials list.

Still, NSU, I Feel Free, and I’m So Glad are serious faves.

However, in deference to Lindsay’s “what I like to listen to when I am sad,” I grabbed my favorite Cream cut, Deserted Cities of the Heart, penned by Monsieur Bruce, and in honor of his passing.

From Wheels of Fire, which was produced by said Felix Papplardi (whom I believe played cello on the cut), this song rocks, is dreamy, and takes some unexpected form twists (I LOVE the doorbell/glockenspiel/whatever is channeled into the background as Clapton starts his solo).

Miss you Jack! You were great (and somehow, I cannot believe Ginger Baker outlived you).

I included both the haunting studio version with said strings and treatments, and a fairly blistering live take as well.

Obit: Paul Revere (1938-2014)

by

Way back in February, Peter wrote a Night Music piece on Paul Revere and the Raiders and I started to write this very article I am now updating.

I saw the band a couple of times in the early 60’s, opening for the Beach Boys, who played Sacramento a lot. In fact I was at the show that became The Beach Boys in Concert, and the Raiders played that gig.

The Raiders, headed by Paul Revere, were a more than entertaining collection of players who knocked out some very good pop hits. Just Like Me, Kicks, Louie Louie, and Him or Me, What’s it Gonna Be?, to name some.

But, Revere and band hold kind of a funny and dubious place in history.

At the time the first wave of British bands were washing onto the American shore and airwaves, the head of A&R at Columbia Records was none other than Mitch Miller. You know, the Sing Along With Mitch guy, who had a Van Dyke to give the illusion of beatnik coolness, but who in reality was as square as they come.

Convinced that long hair and Brit Pop were just a passing fancy, Miller dissuaded the Columbia powers that the company should not sign any of the zillion bands just waiting to be discovered, and by the time it was realized this was a business/tactical error, The Raiders were the first band signed, for a million clams.

Not that the band was bad: they were just a lot different than the British invasion bands.

Miller skedaddled from Columbia, and Clive Davis took over to a pretty successful run, but the plan definitely waylaid the company for a few years.

Anyway, Revere, the leader, passed away Saturday, perfectly enough at the age of ’76, and irrespective of Miller’s acumen, the Raiders were excellent showmen and musicians and songwriters.

I will leave you with a taste:  Hungry.

 

Obit: Cosimo Matassa

by

Is this the first rock ‘n’ roll song?

That was 1947. Some say it was this Fats Domino tune from 1950.

I always thought this Joe Turner tune was the one, but obviously this was a process.

The unifying thing here, however, is that all three tunes were recorded in Cosimo Matassa’s studio in New Orleans, with Matassa engineering.

Jerry Lee Lewis cut his first demos in that studio. Frankie Ford’s iconic New Orleans tune Sea Cruise was recorded there. Little Richard’s hits? Matassa recorded them.

You can read all about his rockin’ life in this New York Times obituary.