Tag Archives: David Lindley

Searching for Sixto; Rodriguez at the Fitzgerald Theater, St. Paul, MN, 5/15/13

Posted on by
Reply
Apologies for this grainy photo of Rodriguez and band; the only one we took prior to being informed of the artist's "no photos" policy

Apologies for this grainy photo of Rodriguez and band; the only one we took prior to being informed of the artist’s “no photos” policy

There’s nothing like being the subject of an Academy Award-winning documentary to thrust a person into the public eye. The brief rise, decades-long lapse into obscurity, and subsequent rediscovery and rejuvenation of Sixto Rodriguez are all well-chronicled in the 2012 film “Searching For Sugar Man.” The Detroit singer/songwriter was thought to have had a promising career ahead of him, releasing two albums (“Cold Fact” in 1970, and “Coming From Reality” the following year) before a combination of bad management, lack of label support, and his own personal demons caused him to disappear from view – at least in this country.

Copies of his albums somehow made their way to South Africa, however, where Rodriguez’s politically-charged commentaries on urban life resonated with the growing anti-apartheid youth movement there. He became hugely popular, merely on the strength of these two albums, although nobody knew a thing about him. And, according to the documentary, he never made a dime off of all the thousands of albums sold in that country.

Life changed dramatically for Rodriguez in the late 1990’s, when he was rediscovered through the persistent efforts of a small group of diehard South African fans, who were also involved in the music business. A series of triumphant, sold-out concerts in South Africa eventually led to the making of the “Sugar Man” movie, the publicity from which has caused his current U.S. tour to be one of the hottest tickets of the year.

Rodriguez took the stage at the Fitz to a standing ovation from the sold-out house. He looked frail, being supported by two young women (his daughters?) as he walked tentatively to the mike stand, where his unnamed lead guitarist plugged in his guitar for him. Dressed in black, with a wide-brimmed black hat hiding his face, it was difficult to get a sense of his well-being from our seats in the balcony. However, his voice was strong and assured as he sang the opening song, “Climb Upon My Music.” Like many of the offerings that evening, the song sort of trailed off at the end, with the three-man band ending at different times. It’s not clear how long this particular group of musicians had played with Rodriguez, but one got the sense that Rodriguez is an intuitive performer, like Dylan, and it takes time to pick up his subtle musical cues and gestures. The flow and pacing of the set was halting and tentative, too, as there was always a pause between songs while Rodriguez and the lead guitarist conferred, generally followed by the guitarist calling out instructions to the bass player and drummer. Set list, anybody?

A measure of Rodriguez’s triumphant return to popularity is the newly-recorded cover of his tune, “I Wonder,” by Alabama Shakes front woman Brittany Howard and Ruby Amanfu. Rodriguez’s own rendition of the song was an early set highlight, drawing a huge reaction from the crowd. From there, he played the first of several surprise covers, a jazzy rendition of “One Of Those Things.” Rodriguez’s vocal was subtle and self-assured on the Cole Porter classic.

“Inner City Blues” was next, this being Rodriguez’s own composition, as opposed to the more famous and entirely different song by the same name by fellow Detroiter Marvin Gaye. The song plays a pivotal role in the rediscovery of Rodriguez in the movie, with its reference to “Met a girl from Dearborn, early six o’clock this morn,” leading the South African fanatics to look up Dearborn on a map and discovering that it is a suburb of Detroit.

The Dylan influence on Rodriguez’s music was apparent in songs like “Crucify Your Mind,” and “This Is Not A Song It’s An Outburst: Or, The Establishment Blues,” performed back-to-back after “Inner City Blues.” Consider this verse from the latter song, delivered in a monotone voice similar to “It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding)”: “Garbage ain’t collected, women ain’t protected / Politicians using, people they’re abusing / The mafia’s getting bigger, like pollution in the river / And you tell me that this is where it’s at.” Pure protest song lyrics.

Shedding his jacket to reveal his tank top underneath, Rodriguez had the band step aside while he delivered the next unexpected cover, Lou Rawls’ “Dead End Street.” Playing the slow blues number solo, with just his own guitar accompaniment, Rodriguez seemed particularly vulnerable. Hearing him sing “I’m on a dead end street, in a city without a heart” was touching and poignant, and entirely consistent with his own compositions about the difficulty of working-class urban American life. Abruptly changing pace, Rodriguez covered Little Richard’s “Lucille” next, but, although it was an effective mood-changer, he was out of his league vocally.

The band returned for “Sugar Man,” his strongest vocal of the night, which also featured a blistering solo by his guitarist. The gorgeous love ballad “I Think Of You,” from the “Coming From Reality” was next – proof that, although he’s best known for his biting commentaries on inner city life, he’s also capable of expressing tender emotion. But, this was a brief respite from the troubled world he normally writes about, as he then launched into “You Can’t Get Away,” with its opening lines “Born in the troubled city, in rock ‘n roll USA / In the shadow of the tallest buildings / I vowed I would get away.”

“I’m a solid seventy!” he announced proudly at this juncture, drawing a round of applause from the audience. He then noted with equal pride that he had received an honorary bachelor’s degree from Wayne State University less than a week earlier. More well-deserved applause, to which he responded by saying “I just want to be treated like an ordinary legend!” Applause, laughter, and several folks rose up out of their seats at this clever (albeit, well-rehearsed) wisecrack.

Two songs from “Cold Fact” followed, the acerbic “Rich Folks Hoax,” and the Byrds-doing-Dylan “Like Janis.” At this point, Rodriguez observed that “Hate is too powerful an emotion to waste on someone you don’t like.” So, save it for the real bad-asses of the world, apparently. “To Whom It May Concern” was next, with a vibe vaguely reminiscent of a Youngbloods song, followed by “Street Boy,” with its timeless admonition to wayward urban youth to “get yourself together, look for something better.”

Switching gears again, Rodriguez sang the sweet Don Gibson country classic “Sea Of Heartbreak,” But, not wanting the mood to get too maudlin, he then played his earliest single (recorded in 1967 as “Rod Riguez”), the kiss-off song, “You’d Like To Admit It,” with its chorus “So when I see you again I’ll just grin / And you’ll know why it is, cos’ I’m glad that you’re his and not mine.”

Rolling to the end of his set with the questionable cover of “I Only Have Eyes For You,” he closed with “Forget It” from his “Cold Fact” album. Returning for the all-covers encore, Rodriguez once again reminded us that he’s a “solid seventy” before launching into a credible version of “Like A Rolling Stone” (even if he consistently omitted the “No direction home” line in the chorus), followed by the Peggy Lee standard “Fever,” before closing with Sinatra’s “I’m Gonna Live Until I Die.”

What a shame it is that this talented individual was lost to the general public for so many years! Having just seen a contemporary of his, David Lindley, the night before (see previous review), I was struck by the contrast in their stage presences and performances. Where Lindley was perfectly comfortable, quick with an anecdote and fluid in his transitions, Rodriguez seemed tentative and somewhat ill at ease when he wasn’t actually singing. For all his considerable gifts, Rodriguez has suffered from a performance standpoint, from being away from the stage for so long. I couldn’t help but thinking that I wished I’d seen him 40 years ago, when he was at the peak of his talent. He’s certainly trying to make up for lost time now, but one wonders how much different things would be if his career hadn’t been interrupted for so many years..

 

The Return of the Badgerman: David Lindley at the Cedar Cultural Center, Minneapolis, MN, 5/14/13

Posted on by
Reply

 

David Lindley and Jackson Brown, circa 1992 (archive photo necessitated by the Cedar's new "no photos" policy during performances

David Lindley and Jackson Browne, circa 1992 (archive photo necessitated by the Cedar’s new “no photos” policy during performances)

If the music industry ever gave out the equivalent of the NBA’s Sixth Man Award, surely David Lindley would be a contender.  In addition to his long affiliation with Jackson Browne, Lindley’s multi-instrumental work has added depth, color and nuance to a veritable who’s who of contemporary artists, including Ry Cooder, Warren Zevon, Rod Stewart, Crosby, Stills and Nash, Emmylou Harris, The Blind Boys of Alabama, Linda Ronstadt, Dolly Parton, John Prine, Bob Dylan, and David Bromberg.  And that’s just for starters!  His long affiliation with the group of session musicians known as The Section has led him to appear on scores of albums.  For approximately 10 years, he led the much-loved, sorely-missed, multi-cultural cult favorite band, El Rayo -X, with its captivating mix of rock, blues and reggae.  As one of the earliest champions of “world music,” he toured and recorded with Jordanian musician Hani Naser, as well as venturing to Madagascar with guitarist Henry Kaiser, to record with musicians there

The Axe-Man cometh! David Lindley's instruments, including a massive baritone Hawaiian guitar, normal Hawaiian guitar, bouzouki and oud.
The Axe-Man cometh! David Lindley’s instruments, including a massive baritone Hawaiian guitar, normal Hawaiian guitar, bouzouki and oud.

Although he is still regularly called upon for session work, Lindley’s preference these days is to tour solo, dazzling audiences with his deft fretwork on a variety of instruments, including bouzouki, oud, and an impressive set of Hawaiian style hollow neck acoustic lap guitars.  So it was during his recent appearance at the Cedar Cultural Center, where he entertained the 2/3’s full house for nearly two hours, with his mix of songs and story telling.

Bespectacled, with his long graying hair and signature massive mutton chops, Lindley resembled a character out of a Dickens novel – except for the loud paisley-print shirt, that is (standard apparel for the man occasionally referred to as The Prince of Polyester).  “Ain’t No Way” from the first El Rayo-X album, was the set opener, done up more as a stately march than the loose, freewheeling arrangement from the 1981 album.  Reflecting on his early career, Lindley noted that he used to play at Disneyland in a hillbilly band “with our bumpkin suits, bumpkin hats, and bumpkin instruments.”  One of the members of the group was a much older man named Johnny Sancere, who played banjo and guitar, and whose longevity in the business while playing the style of music he preferred seems to have had a profound influence on Lindley’s own chosen career path.  He used the Disneyland/Sancere episode as a segue into “Coot From Tennessee,” then the Warren Zevon composition “Beneath The Vast Indifference of Heaven,” both played on Hawaiian-style acoustic lap guitars.  The hollow necks of these formidable instruments provided a huge, resonating bottom to the songs, making it sound for all the world as though there was a bass player up on stage, too.

Referring to the recent Rolling Stone article about The Section, Lindley related a story about saxophonist David Sanborn (“the Troll of Soul,” as Lindley referred to him),, making his way from ledge to ledge along the second story outside wall of the Holiday Inn where the band was staying while touring with Jackson Browne.  Finally persuaded to come into the room from his precarious perch, Sanborn pointed at someone in the band and proclaimed “You and your little dog, too!” causing Lindley to howl with laughter at the recollection, while the audience politely chuckled in puzzled amusement.  I guess you had to have been there.

Announcing, “I’d like to do a drug song for you,” Lindley told of how he and his daughter, Rosanne, came to write “Little Green Bottle,” an ode to . . . Extra Strength Excedrin.  It occurred after Lindley had been bitten between the shoulder blades by some nasty tree spider that dropped down on him as he brushed against a branch.  Only the magic in the little green bottle soothed his pain, so, while walking with Rosanne soon after – in the street, away from spider-infested trees – they began tossing off verses, eventually winding up with “about 30.”  Although the version performed this night consisted of far fewer verses, the song itself went on for over 10 minutes, including hilarious spoken interludes about taking too much (leading to “bad musical ideas” and manic guitar playing), then coming down from the Excedrin high (slowing the song down to a dirge).

Back to the bouzouki, and another story about doing sessions with Dolly Parton, including an extravagant show at her Dollywood theme park, with a number of other guest musicians.  Dolly introduced the musicians one by one, noting that so-and-so came in from New York, so-and-so from Los Angeles, and when she got to Lindley, she announced “And David Lindley flew in from Mars!”  The murder ballad, “Pretty Polly” was the follow up to that anecdote.

Switching to the oud, Lindley pointed out that the one he plays does not have the rounded back traditional for this Middle Eastern instrument.  “That’s because this oud was made to be plugged into a Marshall stack!” he noted, referring to his oud as “Destroys Drummers.”  The bluegrass tune, “Little Sadie” was the first offering on this tricky instrument, followed by a medley of similar songs.  The similarity between oud and mandolin in terms of size and number of strings (although the oud has 2 more) makes the oud a simpatico choice for bluegrass style music.

Back to bouzouki next for the Greg Copeland tune, “Pretty Girl Rules The World,” followed by another Greg Copeland composition, “Revenge Will Come,” played on the thunderous baritone Hawaiian.  In between, Lindley told a story about the man who makes his lap guitars, a fellow by the name of Larry Pogreba, a neighbor of Ted Turner’s, who lives “off the grid” in Montana, and also builds black powder cannons that shoot bowling balls!  It was just such a cannon that dispatched the ashes of Pogreba’s friend, the late Hunter S. Thompson, over his property in Colorado.  Whatever else you might say about David Lindley, you certainly can’t accuse him of having boring friends.

Before performing his lone encore, the zydeco flavored “Bon Temps Roulez,” Lindley referred back to the Rolling Stone article on The Section.  He took umbrage at the writer’s reference to the group as “The Knights of Soft Rock,” so he decided to give himself yet another nickname:  Flaccido Domingo.  That line got him the biggest laugh of the night.

It’s easy to see how David Lindley is such an in-demand studio musician.  His range of instrumental skills is unique, but in addition to that his easygoing demeanor and “what, me worry?” attitude toward life must be refreshing in a business where over-inflated egos are the norm.  Fortunately for us, he still spends a lot of time on the road, playing in bars and clubs, and at festivals all over the world.  Alone on stage, flanked by his rack of instruments, is where his true genius shines forth – with a half-dozen humorous anecdotes thrown in for good measure.