|
And from Oktoberpromotion - dot- com, some background info:
SOUTHSIDE JOHNNY - "Grapefruit Moon- The Songs Of Tom Waits"
Label/Vertrieb: Evangeline/Soulfood
When Southside Johnny sings these lines from Tom Waits’ classic “New Coat of Paint,” it’s with the weathered, street-smart, houserockin’ swagger that made him and his band the Asbury Jukes legendary. He also injects something new: the noir-ish, indigo mood of a city at night. And though the Jukes are the official house band of the wee hours, only a big—nay, bigger—band can really soundtrack the night. And while scores of songwriters nail the nuances of nocturne, nobody does it quite like Waits. “The first time I heard a Tom Waits song,” says Southside, “was probably the Eagles doin’ “Old ’55.” I loved the lyrics. They were so evocative. I went to the record store and got one of [Waits’] early albums and it just knocked me out. His approach, his voice, the romanticism, and yet there’s that gritty realism that he captures, too.”
In a business where success is defined as getting a second single and longevity measured in nanoseconds, surviving for three decades is a rare accomplishment. But Southside Johnny and the Jukes have not just survived… they have flourished. Twenty-eight albums; thousands of live performances around the globe; a legion of dedicated and enthusiastic fans; dozens of classic songs; and a record—1982’s Hearts of Stone—that Rolling Stone called one of the “top 100 albums of the 70s and 80s.” As with the Jukes (and before them, Bob Dylan and The Band), Waits deals in what Southside calls “real American themes. We were dealin’ with what we knew,” he says. “Not so much just playing romantic stories and things like that—not that I don’t like those songs; I love those songs—but you know, about the people we knew and the life we knew.”
Grapefruit Moon: The Songs of Tom Waits is Southside’s tribute to one of his favorite songwriters, but also a pet sound: big band music. Partnering with longtime friend and Jukes and The Max Weinberg 7 (The Late Show with Conan O’Brien) trombonist Richie “LaBamba” Rosenberg, Southside has achieved a reverent—and at times, true to his houserockin’ ways, irreverent—homage with a dozen handpicked Waits songs. “I’ve always admired Richie’s love of big band music,” says Southside, “and of course, I like that too. That’s one of the reasons we have horns in the Jukes: I want the ability to do Stax/Volt and Count Basie-style stuff because I like the sound of horns. Much to my chagrin. It’s an expensive habit, you know?”
The idea to marry the brassy, ballsy sound of big band to Tom Waits’ cinematic, character-driven songs had been sitting in the back booth of Southside’s mind for some time. In 1984, Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes covered “New Coat of Paint” on In the Heat. “We did it with five horns,” he recalls, but says it was “more of a Charlie Mingus-style blues thing than big band, but that was the nascent part of this idea.”
A full album of the stuff, however, wasn’t the immediate aim, but “it finally filtered through the crap in my brain.” Southside, in fact, had planned a standards album—Billie Holliday, Frank Sinatra. “I really wanted Richie to have a chance to shine ‘cause he’s a great arranger and he has these occasional gigs where he puts together a big band—like 15, 18 pieces—and it always sounds great. I thought if I could only figure a way to find enough songs for him to arrange, I could finance that, and be the singer.” Waits’ songs, which Southside already planned to record, were the perfect fodder. “I was casting around for an idea that would give Richie a lot of leeway, he says. “And then one day, I was listenin’ to Tom and it just clicked. “The songs can kinda get lost with Tom; he’s so eccentric and unique as a performer, but sometimes the lyrics and melody are subsumed to the performance. So I just combined the two projects.”
Southside and Rosenberg made lists of Waits favorites, then Southside called the enigmatic singer-songwriter for his blessing, which he gave them—along with three rare tunes, two of which hadn’t appeared on a Waits CD until the "Orphans" project, a collection of demos and unreleased tunes that Waits released last year. Rosenberg charted arrangements for the songs, which he and Southside recorded with a gaggle of Jukes and various other musicians in their circle. The project came together slowly, between tours and other engagements. “The process of writing charts for 16-18 musicians is so long,” says Southside. “You gotta write out every note for every instrument, so it took Richie forever to write the charts, so we’d record three or four songs at a time. It was a catch-as-catch-can situation.”
Grapefruit Moon’s vibe is as easy and cool as its genesis, rife with mellow passages and bright flares. “Yesterday is Here,” opens with a smoky piano-flute-vocal intro and builds to a smolder, ready for the swingin’ inferno of “Down, Down, Down.” The title track is lilting, moonlit romance in shades of blue; “Tango ‘Til They’re Sore” is a skronking slow blues rag. “Please Call Me Baby” conjures Jimmy Durante on a night stroll through the NYC streets; “All the Time in the World” oozes spy-flick cool.
Two other tracks are special: “Temptation” finds LaBamba stretching his arranger’s legs, commencing a slow Latin rhythm that unfolds into a flourish that would make Ricky Ricardo proud. “That was the big extravaganza Richie wanted to do,” says Southside. “When I said maybe we should try that, Richie said, ‘Ooooh. I can do something with this.’” They also revisit an old friend, once again souping up “New Coat of Paint.” At first, Southside demurred; he didn’t want to repeat himself—then he heard LaBamba’s ambitious, grand arrangement. “He won me over.”
And they both won over Waits, to whom they’d sent early demos. “He really liked it,” Southside beams. “He sent me this great email, which I saved, about “Bang! Pow! This is great!” And I thought, “Good. He likes it.” ‘Cause you worry about that stuff.”
Perhaps the biggest seal of approval is Waits’ vocal turn on “Walk Away,” a song in which he and Southside do what they do best: romanticize and mythologize the soul of ordinary average guys—without, of course, getting overly precious. “I just thought it would be funny,” he says. “We both have these voices that no one would consider beautiful. These are not Irish tenors; this is not Luciano Pavarotti and Placido Domingo singing in harmony. These are two gravel road voices meeting at the crossroads.
“That’s why all that material works for him and why it’s fun to sing for me, because we do have those voices that are, shall we say, “lived in.” Lied and died in, sometimes. It was really easy and fun…a very good experience for me.”
|
(Could you PM me with instructions on how this is done, as well? Thanks for all your assistance!)
