I have been listening to alot of new releases lately, trying to find ones to present to you, the reader. After exhausting my recent additions I was left with a quandry, I had a desire to write yet another review this month...and and several new but rather mundane albums left untouched to choose from. Unfortunately, as much good music that comes out there is tenfold that are just plain awful. Thanks for that goes to the corporate music industry and its MTV friendly ideology.
After a couple of days relistening to the new additions, it finally occurred to me, why not go back into my vast catalogue of music and pick out a "couple" to give some proper credit and light to? I had made a list of about 20 or so to choose from, dating back to 1965 to about 1986. As the list was weeded out, 1 album kept registering to me as a definite keeper, 1974's Jim Stafford self titled LP.
That's right, LP. Some of you readers have probably never even held a real on in your hands. My how the times have changed.
Jim Stafford is the very definition of originality. No one has ever looked at life or music in the same way, except for maybe Frank Zappa, and that from me says alot to his favor.
His debut album is a testament to his surreal musical nature I am speaking of. Blending comedy, blues, jazz, country, rock, funk, doo wop, 1930's crooner and even early elements of hard rock all into one big melting pot of kick ass. This album must have been a godsend to the music fans of that era who probably spent alot of time trying to figure out how to drown out "Billy Don't Be A Hero" and "Seasons In The Sun".
Hailing from southern Florida, Stafford pioneered the genre of swamp rock, like I said, blending so many different elements of ALL music into one. His hilarious take on the Mississippi Delta Blues, "16 Little red Noses And A Horse That Sweats", is both bizarre and progressive all at once. Who else but Jim Stafford could play the blues with such proficiency....on a banjo?
Only Jim, that's who. Who else would write such lyrics to go along with it like, "My wife ran off with the garbage man — I don’t miss that woman, but somebody gotta empty my can.". While he is ranting about infidelity, garbage men, dippity doo, miniature horses that sweat and nudists you tend to lose the reality that he is really laying down some solid blues riffing.....ON A BANJO.Absolutely revolutionary and it paved the way for artists like Bela Fleck and even Weird Al to follow along in his footsteps.
Stafford liked to make us laugh but he also wants us to think. “The Last Chant.”, with it's dark distorted guitar driven harmonies, Jim is showing us all his dislike for the land developers who came in and destroyed his family's and the swamp cultures way of life by putting up amusement parks and old stodgy retirement communities.
“You just keep dragging my swamp water down,move to florida! We'll build you a town.”
Jim doesn't need to say another word for us all to really see how he feels. I always thought this song would make an awesome cover for a metal band...maybe even a death metal track.
Every song on this album is a standout which is why I brought this out of semi-obscurity.“Nifty Fifties Blues” he rocks right in the same groove as Fats Domino or Little Richard. “I Ain’t Sharin’ Sharon” sees him singing as if he was a 30's crooner.
"Swamp Witch"shows he can tell a story as does his rendition of the classic "Mr. Bojangles". Both tracks are outstanding.
The modern scene lacks the humor and intelligence of a man like Jim Stafford, and that's a shame. In the glitz and glamour of the modern music scene albums and artists come and go in the blink of an eye and most are truly forgettable. Sadder still is the fact that classic albums like this one fade into obscurity and are lost in the abyss of tide and time as a result.
Get this album. Go out and buy it. If you're ever in Branson, Missouri, he has a theatre. Catch a show. It's worth it.
Artist: Jim Stafford
Album: self titled(1974)
genre: blues, rock, jazz, country, comedy, experimental
download: here
Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars
By Bez
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