NOT QUITE A-OKEH

NOT QUITE A-OKEH

OKEH WESTERN SWING OKEH CHICAGO BLUES OKEH JAZZ

OKEH RHYTHM & BLUES OKEH SOUL (All Epic)

Jeff Nesin

by

A true story. Just the other night I was rummaging around the shelves looking for something to wake me up after nearly two hours of pre-Belle A1 Green (I�m devoted to him, consider him the great artist of the 70�s, etc., but there�s only so much of the Hodges Bros, tastefully restrained groove that a man can take without slipping into darkness), when what should slip onto my searching hand but Spirit In The Dark, the wonderful 12-year-old Aretha Franklin album. Side two opens with �When The Battle Is Over,� Dr. John�s analysis of the war between the sexes, featuring furious accompaniment (no solos— real accompaniment) by Duane Allman. I played the track over and over and then sank into a chair shaking my head. Will there ever again be occasion for such a straightforward collaboration between the preeminent black woman singer of the era and the hottest young white guitarist? Will their respective idioms ever again be compatible? If you were Diana Ross, would you ask Robert Quine to play on your next session? If you were Robert Quine, would you say yes? If you were Eddie Van Halen, would your feelings be hurt?

If the answer to one or more of these questions is, �Probably not,� then you should start paying attention to what�s in record company catalogs, what�s been cut out, and what�s being reissued. I do, because —historical obsessions aside—Spirit In The Dark, most preand postBelle A1 Green, and much music I love* consider indispensible, etc. is now or soon will be generally unavailable. Since capitalism doesn�t foster a lot of noblesse oblige, reissues are produced by marketing strategies, accidents, zealots (God bless �em), or some combination thereof. The new Epic series of five double LP sets surveying the Okeh vaults—the test for today�s sermon—was created by a worthy gang of zealots who were hamstrung by an awkward corporate marketing concept. It is certainly true, as all the covers claim, that Okeh recorded some absolutely essential black music, particularly betwen 1920-35. It is also true that most of that stuff—Bessie Smith, for example, or the 1928 Louis Armstrong-Earl Hines joint ventures—has been available more or less continuously for more than 50 years and is, quite reasonably, not included here. So problem one is] that the series is built around material that will not exactly take your breath away as Louis and Earl or Aretha and Duane might. Problem two is that the strategy involves (surprise!) something for everyone, which is not really what Okeh was best at and which, experience teaches, does not make reissues that can generate and sustain the kind of interest and enthusiasm that makes people listen to more than a ■ few cuts here and there and, therefore, show sales figures sufficient to keep them around for more than a few years.

Still, there are reasons to be cheerful about the Okeh series, thanks to the aforementioned zealots. Okeh Western Swing is almost a contradiction in terms— only 6 of the 28 tracks here were recorded by Okeh—and producer Jo}in Morthland had to roam the range to flesh out this curious corporate concept. His energy and resourcefulness have given us one song by the unheard legend Emmett Miller, who beat Jimmie Rodgers to the blue yodel and inspired such disparate honky blasters as Bob Wills and Nick Tosches. (Since Miller was a legitimate Okeh artist, a few more tracks would have been nice.) There is, of course, a whole side of prime �35-�41 Wills here, including some very hot New Orleans style cuts (�Get With It,� �Who Walks In When I Walk Out) and a Delmore Bros, cop with the irresistible title � �Ozzlin� Daddy Blues.� (Paging Mr. Stampfel.) All in all, Okeh Western Swing is an effective sampler—the e?oterica is balanced by a sense of musical coherence that makes the set fun to listen to.

Okeh Jazz features recordings from the early 50�s when Okeh had little standing as a jazz label, especially when compared to the glory days of the 20�s and 30�s. A light but thoughtful side of early Ahmad Jamal and two appealing bop vocals by Babs Gopzalez don�t really justify spreading the concept this thin. (In contrast, I own all five volumes of Columbia�s Lester Young Story and listen to each one with pleasure.) On Okeh Chicago Blues only 5 of 29 songs were actually Okeh records as the label was dormant for most of the period this set covers: the pre-Chess years up to 1947. I�ve never been a fan of the part city/part country blues recorded by entrepreneur Lester Melrose, though these records make the case well. The second LP features Johnny Shines with a remarkably lead-footed drummer, eight tracks from a Big Joe Williams session dominated by the superb harp player, John Lee Williamson (the original Sonny Boy who was murdered a few months later,) and] three very strong transitional songs from the Mississippian who would soon irrevocably alter Chicago blues, Muddy Waters.

The last two sets, Okeh Rhythm & Blues and Okeh Soul, pretty accurately reflect what the label was up to in its final decades, the 50�s and 60�s. Producer Joe McEwen reasonably suggests that the Soul set could be called �The Songs Of Curtis Mayfield� and that would be all right with me. Of course, since the Impressions recorded for ABC at this time, only Curtis�s writing, guitar, and obvious influence are included here. Major Lance sounds fine; though he�s not exactly a prime candidate for a full-scale retrospective, and warm balladeer Walter Jackson has been at it a long time. Though Memphis, Detroit, Philadelphia, and Muscle Shoals come more quickly to mind, Chicago had a distinctive soul sound that is not really well served by the Okeh-only policy (stretched over four sides) that the business—not the zealot—imposes. Okeh Rhythm & Blues is more substantial and McEwen and co-conspirator Gregg Geller have included several neglected gems that get the respect they deserve at my house. I�d like to award the coveted Golden Spalding to the Treniers for �Say Hey (The Willie Mays Song)� which begins with a typical fan argument over how much of the Polo Grounds Willie could cover. When consulted by the Treniers, the characteristically gracious Mays defers to teammate Monte Irvin, but the Baseball Encyclopedia * bears witness that in the summer of 1954, when this ditty was recorded, Willie—interpreting center field very broadly—made 448 putouts. And you all know what he did to Vic Wertz as the Giants swept the Indians in four straight that fall. I�d also like to present Doc Bagby with a Golden Miller�s Bottle for �Dumplings,� the perfect post-�Honky Tonk� instrumental for patting your foot as you float somewhere between the eighth beer and the long stumble home. I�d just as soon not call attention to how much I love the Schoolboys� �Please Say You Want Me,� but it�s too late now.

I will not fulminate here about how much great American music is available only by overseas mail: England�s exquisite Sun &ox, for example, or the Japanese 11-record set of the complete Hank Williams. It is enough to thank Epic for helping to redress the pathetic reissue trade deficit. The Okeh Series will not change your life like, say, Specialty�s heart-stopping Gospel Stars In Concert with a whole side of Sam Cooke and the Soul Stirrers rocking L.A.�s Shrine Auditorium, or Solid Smoke�s reissue of James Brown at the Apollo in 1962, the hardest working record in show business. But the Okeh Series will fill some gaps once your life is changed. Considering the alternatives, I shouldn�t complain..