June 2, 2008 AN APPRECIATION
The night Bo Diddley banned the Beat

How do you play with a legend without doing it the legendary way? By learning his lesson of keeping himself new.

By Dave Alvin, Special to the Los Angeles Times 3:35 PM PDT, June 2, 2008

"Whatever you do, DO NOT play 'the Beat!'"

That was the first thing Bo Diddley said to us before we walked onto the stage of the Music Machine club in West L.A. for two sets back in 1983. We were a mix of members of the Blasters and X who had agreed, with great enthusiasm, to back up one of our greatest heroes for free at a benefit show for the Southern California Blues Society.

To say that we were upset by his announcement/warning would be an understatement. How could you play Bo Diddley songs and not play the powerful, infectious and sensual Bo Diddley Beat?

Since Bo's first records for the Chess label back in the mid-'50s, his "Beat" (a primal and relentless mix of the old shave-and-a-haircut riff, Chicago blues grooves and Latin rhythms), had been borrowed, stolen or adapted by everyone from Buddy Holly to the Rolling Stones to David Bowie for their own hit records.

Now, even though Bo had utilized various permutations of the beat over the course of his long career, he was asking us to abandon it entirely in favor of . . . What? It's sort of like asking an actor to do Hamlet, but don't use any of Shakespeare's words.

Blasters drummer Bill Bateman and X drummer DJ Bonebreak, who were sharing the drum and percussion duties for the night, asked Bo to clarify what beat they should play. He tapped out some rhythm that stressed a different accent but, to be honest, I couldn't tell what the difference was. Fortunately, Bill and DJ picked up on his instructions and by the end of the first song Bo seemed pretty happy.

It was a very good band, with Bill and DJ teaming up for the essential duties on drums, timbales and maracas, X's John Doe and Blasters bassist John Bazz sharing the bass position while my brother Phil, who also played some harmonica, and I followed Bo as best we could on guitars.

Most of the songs in the first set were new songs that Bo had recently recorded but none of us had ever heard, let alone studied. We (and just about every other musician in the modern age) had been dissecting all of his old records for years with the passion of theology students pouring over the Dead Sea scrolls or physicists debating string theory. A couple of the songs in the set were straight blues that easily fell into a comfortable pocket, but the rest were extended one-chord, semi-funk jams that wound up sounding as much like "Bitches Brew"-era Miles Davis as they did classic Bo Diddley.

As the set progressed and I began to get comfortable with Bo's new beats, I started thinking that it was close-minded of me to expect him to play the old songs the same old way. Wasn't Bo Diddley as much of a musical revolutionary as Bob Dylan? Weren't his original recordings of "Mona" or "Who Do You Love" as musically unique, pivotal and influential in their day as Dylan's?

Maybe Bo wasn't the genius lyricist that Dylan is but in rock 'n' roll (or blues and folk), lyrics aren't everything. If Dylan could change the melodies, grooves and even lyrics to his songs in order to keep exploring the possibilities of his art, why couldn't Bo Diddley?

Some people would argue that Bo was one of the architects of funk and, if that's the case, why shouldn't he be allowed to follow his own rhythmic path to wherever it might lead him? Why should Bo Diddley have to be stuck in the past just because that's where a part of his audience (and perhaps his backing bands) wanted him to remain?

I remember smiling on stage like a goofball as I realized all of this and came to the conclusion that if you really dig Bo Diddley, then let Bo Diddley be Bo Diddley! I was a young guy at the time who was trying his best to replicate old music -- and that's the best way to learn, believe me -- but that night Bo taught me a lesson about growing and surviving as an musician/artist: Stay true to yourself.

After the first set I approached Bo backstage and told him what I had been thinking while I played with him. "That's right," he said laughing. "I already made all them old records years ago. Now I'm keeping myself new."

But as we walked back onstage for the second set, Bo turned to us, smiled and said, "You know, you boys are pretty good, so I'll tell you what: The first song is gonna be 'Mona' and you can play with the Bo Diddley beat." And we did.

Thank you Bo, for all your incredible music over the years and, especially, the wise life lesson you taught me.

Singer, songwriter and guitarist Dave Alvin has been a member of the Blasters, X and the Knitters and leads his own roots-rock group, the Guilty Men.

Chris Gaffney 1950 - 2008

My other big brother, Chris Gaffney passed away Thursday morning, April 17, 2008.

I really don't know what to say right now but I feel that I have to say something. First of all, I want to again thank everyone that sent messages to Chris and donated funds to his cause. It means more than you'll know to Chris, his family and me. We are still raising money at www.helpgaff.com to help with the existing medical bills and other various expenses including a forthcoming memorial service.

After twenty-some years I have thousands of memories of Chris. Through those years of songs, laughs, countless barrooms, eternal highways, broken hearts, screw-ups, bail outs, close calls, busted strings, elusive dreams, flat tires, stalled engines, hard hangovers, bad gigs, great gigs, in between gigs, tragedies, triumphs, secret jokes, bad TV, worse food and now, tears, Gaffney always had my back. I never had to worry about nothing or nobody if Gaffney was with me. I don't know what I ever did to deserve it but, God, I was blessed to have Chris Gaffney as my best friend.

Chris's and my friend, B.J. in Omaha, said it best for me in a email
yesterday. She said that I now have a "wild angel looking out for me." Yeah, I do believe that's true.

I'll still see you in Cuervo, brother.
Dave

April 8, 2008 Dear friends, fans and everyone else:

I want to sincerely thank everyone who has gone (and will go) to helpgaff.com and donated to the Chris Gaffney cause. I'm really at a loss for words regarding the overwhelming response from so many people to our call for help. Beside your financial donations, your many heartfelt messages of love and support have deeply moved Chris, his family and me. I don't think Chris ever realized how much his music touches people and how truly beloved he is. These are rough financial times for many of us, but your selfless generosity in the face of that hard reality, has gotten me a bit< misty eyed on more than a couple occasions lately.

I'd also like to thank all the people who are putting together benefit shows across the country. Shows are currently being planned in Austin, Omaha, Houston, San Francisco, Nashville and several other locations. Please let us know at helpgaff.com if you're doing a benefit for Chris so that we can plug it on the site. Later this year I plan on doing a benefit performance in southern California with many longtime friends of mine and Chris's. Check back here or at the Gaff site for information about when and where that will be happening.

My "other big brother" Chris is a fighter and having all of you in his corner have made me even more positive that he will win this fight. Thank you all very, very much.

Dave Alvin

May 29, 2007 RADIO BLUES

It's with deep sadness that I write these words. Two people recently passed away who did so much to keep roots/folk music alive in the past 30 years: Howard Larman and Laura Ellen Hopper. I was blessed to have known both.

Howard, along with his wife Roz, hosted the venerable folk music program, FOLKSCENE on radio station KPFK for over thirty years. He and Roz gave early exposure to artists like Tom Waits, Richard Thompson and Jackson Browne before most people had heard of them. Just as important, though, Howard and Roz championed the music of countless lesser-known artists whose songs and musicianship would never be heard on mainstream radio.

I listened to FOLKSCENE semi-religiously growing up and, if it wasn't for Howard and Roz, I never would have discovered amazing songwriters like Kate Wolf, Jim Ringer, Steve Young, Katy Moffat and Steve Gillette or have been properly introduced to the soulful and sorrowful world of traditional Celtic ballads. I always felt inspired and a bit more educated after listening to FOLKSCENE (I still do) which is a hell of a lot more than most radio or tv shows can deliver these days. Howard's broad definition of "folk music" (encompassing everything from his beloved Celtic music to traditional fiddle tunes to sensitive singer-songwriters to western swing to blues to rockabilly to jug bands and beyond) certainly influenced my wide view of what folk music is and, for that, I'll be forever in his debt.

Needless to say, I had butterflies the size of elephants when I first appeared as a guest on FOLKSCENE in 1988. I felt that I didn't deserve to be on the air with Howard interviewing me. I felt the same way every time I returned as a guest over the next 18 years. I never should have have worried though because Howard was a perceptive and gentle interviewer who knew how to make his guests feel welcome, comfortable and part of the great folk music tradition. Thank you Howard for the musical education, kind laughs and for being so patient with me over the years. I'll miss you very much.

The good news is that Roz (along with their very musically astute son, Allen Larman) will continue to do the FOLKSCENE show and keep the tradition alive.

Laura Ellen Hopper was the founder and the strong guiding spirit of KPIG Radio up in Watsonville, California. Regarding her passing a KPIG dj, John Sandige said something like "losing Laura was like losing a great redwood." That's very true. Like Howard Larman, she was a champion to countless artists who don't fit in on the tight playlists of today's corporate rock or country broadcasting. Laura made KPIG the home for radio renegades like Joe Ely, Robert Earl Keen, Tom Russell, Iris deMent and Steve Earle as well as for many blues, r+b and rock and roll acts. And she somehow made it commercially successful. Laura was business smart but had an artists soul (not a common combination) and I always enjoyed shooting the breeze with her. She didn't pull her punches and I appreciated that. We agreed on a lot of what was wrong with radio and what could be done to keep roots music alive. With her passing we lost a tough advocate for music that doesn't fit neatly into a nice, little programmed package. Hopefully, in the future, KPIG will be able keep up the good fight she fought so well.

All that the rest of us can do, as Curtis Mayfield said, is "keep on pushing."

May 2007- Welcome to my new website. I think it looks pretty swanky for a barroom guitar basher.

I'm very excited about having my own website and I'm looking forward to having some fun here. One of the fun things I plan to do, over the next weeks and months, will be posting some new and some not-so-new, rare recordings on the site that aren't currently available anywhere else. The first of these songs should be available early this summer and every few weeks or so I'll be adding more songs. Please check back for more info as I get this together.

There's also a fairly up-to-date (and as complete as my memory made possible) discography of all the music I've been fortunate to be a part of. This list covers everything from my work as a solo artist to appearances as a guest vocalist, band member, sideman and producer. There are links on the recordings that are still available if you wish to purchase them. Unfortunately, the out of print records on the list may only be available at some serious collector's rare record stores or maybe in some discount cut-out bins. Good luck if you feel like hunting them down.

The site also has a page listing of all my upcoming gigs (whether I'm playing solo and acoustic or loud and electric with my band, The Guilty Men) as well as a news page that will have information on upcoming recordings, tours or any oddball stuff I find myself wrapped up in.

I'd like to take this opportunity to make some serious "thank you's." First of all, my eternal gratitude to Scot Kleinman for all of his time, labor and patience the past several years hosting DaveAlvin.com. He's done an amazing job and I am forever in his debt. I intend to remain involved with Scot's site and will continue answering the questions ad messages that come to his dot-com site (I really enjoy the back and forth dialogue I get to have with everyone who writes to me there). Speaking of "forever in his debt," I want to thank Billy Davis for his very hard work and eternal enthusiasm at TheBlastersNewsletter.com. I honestly can't calculate how helpful, generous and inspirational Billy and Scot have been to me. Hell, they even convinced my brother Phil and I to reform the original Blasters for a couple of tours over the past few years. Anyone who could do that is damned good in my book. Thanks guys.

Continuing with the thank you's, I say this with no exaggeration, this new webpage wouldn't exist without the tireless efforts and visionary zeal of Heather Lilly, Jane Terry and Nancy Sefton. Everything that's good about this site is because of them and I owe them more than I can ever pay them back.

Anyway, I'll be adding a lot more content to the site over the next few weeks and if you have any suggestions for the site, please let me know. I'm a bit of a computer illiterate but Heather, Jane and Nancy will more than make up for my 21st century shortcomings.

Thanks for stopping by and see you down the road,
Dave Alvin

June 2007- Every now and then, someone asks me to write some liner notes for some album or another. It's a nice honor to be asked and I get a big kick doing this. Hell, I've even gotten paid a couple times for doing this. I hope you enjoy reading them. DA

Liner notes for TERRY ALLEN: JUAREZ Sugar Hill Reissue 2004

A few years ago in Italy, I watched Terry Allen pull an electric piano off of it's stand, raise it above his head like an angry Moses on Mount Sinai, then violently throw the helpless instrument to the floor with such righteous fury that the piano shattered into a hundred useless pieces. He stood calmly above the wreckage, grinning proudly.

Why he did it, I don't know but I have to admit that I was more than a little scared. I was standing just a few feet from him, performing a Bo Diddley song in one of those end of the show jam sessions/sing-alongs with Terry, Guy Clark, Butch Hancock, Peter Case, Tom Russell and the Austin band, Loose Diamonds, when he murdered the piano. What scared me wasn't seeing someone destroy a musical instrument on stage (I'd seen plenty of that over the years) but the look in Terry's eyes. These weren't the eyes of Terry Allen, world renowned sculptor-legendary songwriter and west Texas visionary, but these were the cold eyes of Jabo, the homesick, killer pachuco from JUAREZ.

JUAREZ, Terry Allen's first masterpiece, is one of the great "songwriter" records. Originally recorded and released in the early 1970's, it stands equal with other mandatory 70's songwriter classics like Dylan's BLOOD ON THE TRACKS and Randy Newman's GOOD OLD BOYS. And it stands equal (or above) most songwriter records made in the decades since. Like Dylan's and Newman's work, the songs on JUAREZ work on so many levels that they defy easy categorization or neat explanations. Like old, anonymous folk ballads, the narrative songs on JUAREZ tell one story but inside the seemingly simple story is a universe of other stories, myths, lovers, barrooms, highways, dead ends and meanings. You can appreciate each song on the level of "That's a great love song" or "That's a good drinking song" or, if you're so disposed, delve into their deeper meanings. Is JUAREZ a commentary on the history of the wild west, the conquest and colonization of the Americas, the alienation and dislocation of modern American life or . . . all of the above?

There are many moments on JUAREZ that are as scary as that crashing Italian piano. "There Oughta Be A Law Agains't Sunny Southern California" is one of the baddest bad boy ballads to come out of the still wild west.
But there are also bittersweet moments of honky tonk existentialism - "La Despedida" stuns me with it's sad beauty every time I hear it - as well as moments of transcendental humor like "Writing On Rocks Across The USA." There are even songs that mix the humor and violence with touching innocence and desperate passion.
Not an easy task. Just ask any poet or songwriter.

Another reason JUAREZ was so powerful when first recorded (and is still as intense today) is the simplicity and intimacy of the recording. With only his words and piano, plus some excellent subtle guitar and mandolin accompaniment, Terry Allen manages to paint the border town whorehouses, the small mountain town trailer park and the dark desert highway with all the vivid colors of a Maynard Dixon painting. The sparseness of the arrangements allows his voice to inhabit every character with a credibility that might have been lessened with more elaborate settings (although the the 2 beautiful new songs, included on this cd, use more instrumentation, they manage to keep the original recording's intimate mood intact). Like Hank Williams or Robert Johnson, Terry Allen is capable of making you believe every word he sings. The anger, disappointment, lust, loneliness, love, hope and hopelessness of the characters Jabo, Chic, Spanish Alice and Sailor come fully to life by way of Allen's "been there and back" vocals. As I saw in his eyes as he killed a piano on stage, perhaps the JUAREZ characters possess Terry as much as he possesses them.

JUAREZ is an intense of a work of art or poetry or music (or whatever you want to call it) by a master songwriter. It tells a story with maybe no ending, with perhaps no noble heroes and possibly no uplifting moral to learned but, none the less, it's a story that had to be told. Just like that piano had to be destroyed one night in Italy.

JOHNNY SHINES - SKULL AND CROSSBONES BLUES - Hightone 2003

Johnny Shines was, without a doubt, one of the greatest blues singers that ever lived. Like Roy Brown or Big Joe Turner, he could've sung opera if fate had pointed him down that road.

Shines was also an amazing guitarist capable of both weaving intricate, complex patterns on acoustic guitar or slashing his way through tough Chicago electric shuffles. The influence of Robert Johnson is in his playing (as the included version of "Crossroads Blues" shows), and that's to be expected because of Shine's well documented close relationship with Johnson, but Shine's off beat rhythms, clever riffs and dead-on slide work were, like his vocals, utterly his own.

When you say "blues" to most people they tend to think of one or two types of blues music and one type of blues singer. The stereotypical blues singer is supposed to be the hard living, hard drinking, illiterate, itinerant, "sold my soul to the devil" type. But just as there are numerous styles and shades of blues music, there are just as many types of blues singers. Johnny Shines was a hard working, educated man who had wide interests and dreamed of seeing Africa. He felt deeply that the blues stereotypes negatively affected the profound influence that the blues had on American music and culture.

Like J.B. Lenoir and Skip James, Johnny Shines didn't fit any preconceived mold of what a blues musician should be or what he should write and sing about. And sadly, like all the greatest blues singers, his kind will never be seen again. Fortunately for those of us who had the great fortune to see him perform when he was alive and especially for those who didn't have that unique opportunity, we can, thanks to this Hightone reissue, still listen to the pure blues of a true original.

VARIOUS ARTISTS - ROCKIN' BONES - 1950's Punk And Rockabilly - Rhino Records 2006

Rockabilly's always been just another branch on the old folk music tree. I know some folk purists (and rockabilly purists as well) disagree with me but, like other post World War 2 folk music offshoots - urban blues, rural bluegrass, suburban singer-songwriters, for example - early rockabilly grew directly from the old time blues, ballads and breakdowns that are the rich roots of our folk music. A rockabilly band blasting the roof off some beer joint along the highway is just as much an integral part of America's folk music history as any acoustic guitar strumming singer-songwriter singing in a college town coffeehouse.

It's been more than 50 years since the first rockabilly records were released and rockabilly is still too raw or too simple or too loud or too fast or too dangerous for some people to appreciate. To me, though, because it has retained all those impolite "negatives," rockabilly remains as gloriously primitive as any true folk music should be.

Liner notes for FREDDIE KING: LIVE AT THE ELECTRIC BALLROOM 1974 Shout Factory 2006

I was a skinny 14 year-old kid when I finally got up the guts to speak to Freddie King.

It was back in 1970 or 71, and he had just finished blowing the roof off of the Los Angeles blues/folk club, the Ash Grove. He was standing in the lounge area talking to one of his band members and seemed relaxed and somewhat approachable. Back then I was one of those kids who actually read the small print on records that listed who wrote the song, and I had to know who Billy Myles was. His name was on one of King's signature songs,
"Have You Ever Loved A Woman?"

I have to admit that I was scared to death as I slowly walked toward him. By that time, my brother, Phil, and I had seen a few Freddie King shows and we were always devastated by his performances. We'd collected his old King/Federal 45's and out-of-print LPs, and as great as they were, they didn't quite match the sheer power of seeing him live. First of all there was his physical presence. He was a big man who dwarfed his Gibson guitar and dominated the stage like few artists I've seen before or since (Big Joe Turner was one of the only performers who matched King in that department). You would never want to be on his bad side.

Then there was Freddie King's total mastery of his instrument. His playing was melodic yet propulsive, tasteful yet overwhelming, technically perfect yet emotionally pure. I'll never forget witnessing a jaw-dropping guitar duel between Freddie and B.B. King at the Santa Monica Civic Auditorium. They swapped stunning chorus after chorus until they fought to a mutually admiring standstill. I've never heard B.B. play better but I don't think I'm wrong in my opinion that Freddie was still holding back some of his abilities out of respect and affection for B.B.

Freddie King smiled at me as I approached him. His hair was still styled in a perfect processed pompadour and he wore a dark sharkskin suit. As he reached down to gently shake my small nervous hand, I stuttered something about how many times I'd seen him and how great a guitarist I though he was. He thanked me, and then I asked him who Billy Myles was. "Was he another great guitarist I should listen to?"

Freddie King started laughing and looked at his band member and said, "Can you believe this boy asking me about old Billy Myles." I felt embarrassed and apologized for asking such an apparently stupid question. Then Freddie King said something I'll always treasure.

"It's not a stupid question, son." He said. "Billy Myles was a friend of mine who wrote some songs for me. He was my friend just like you're my friend." I walked away on cloud nine.

To this day whenever I hear Freddie King, I'm still moved by his incredibly fierce talents as a guitarist (not to mention what a strong, soulful, expressive vocalist he was) and reminded of what a gentle and kind man he was to a boy he'd never met before.