Though Alive has recently reissued several of Swamp Dogg’s classic albums (including Total Destruction to Your Mind, Rat On and Gag a Maggot), as well as his work with Irma Thomas and Sandra Phillips, this is their first opportunity to release new material. And forty years after the landmark Total Destruction, Swamp Dogg’s brand of humorous social commentary remains as potently entertaining and educational as ever. That’s because the social, racial and gender issues of the 1970s haven’t gone away, and Swamp Dogg’s eyes and tongue are still sharp.
The title track lays down James Brown styled funk, but Soul Brother No. 1 never laid down a philosophical position as direct, quirkily self-reflective and far-reaching as “The White Man Made Me Do It.†Swamp Dogg manages to simultaneously curse slavery and celebrate the heroes that emerged in its wake, all to a catchy chorus chant and deep dance groove. The groove turns to Family Stone-styled soul (complete with a brief “listen to the voices†breakdown) for “Where is Sly†and low-down for a strutting cover of Leiber and Stoller’s “Smokey Joe’s Cafe.â€
At 72, Swamp Dogg still has an ambivalent relationship with women, serenading on “Hey Renae†and a cover of Sam Cooke’s “You Send Me,†castigating on “Lying, Lying, Lying Woman,†and humorously apologizing to his stepdaughters in the liner notes. But contradictions, or perhaps more accurately, colorful positions on complex subjects, have always been part of Swamp Dogg’s charm. Swamp Dogg sings side by side of a satisfied life (“I’m So Happyâ€) and ruminates on “What Lonesome Is,†showing that every coin in his pocket has at least two sides.
On balance, Swamp Dogg seems happy with the life he’s led. He may joke about his lack of popular acclaim, but where there might be bitterness you’ll find belief. Belief in his music, belief in his principles, and despite the social ills he’s cataloged over the years, belief that things have, can and will improve. “America’s sick, and it needs a doctor quick,†he sings in “Light a Candle… Ring a Bell,†but his roll call of the housing crisis’ bad actors is both an outpouring of frustration and a call to more responsible behavior. Swamp Dogg’s been calling it like he sees it since his 1970 debut, and in 2014 he still finds plenty to call.
From the vintage front cover photo to the electric guitars, winsome melodies and lyrical longing, neither Paul Collins nor his music seems to be aging. Having broken in with the Nerves in the mid-70s, and more prominently with the Beat by decade’s end, Collins moved on to explore country rock on a pair of solo albums in the ’90s. His pop-rock roots reemerged on 2004’s Flying High and 2008’s Ribbon of Gold, and he explicitly reclaimed his crown with 2010’s Jim Diamond-produced King of Power Pop. This second collaboration with Diamond expands on the sonics of the first – vocals ragged with rock ‘n’ roll passion, guitars that slam and chime, and a rhythm section that makes sure you feel the backbeat.
Collins’ writes of rock ‘n’ roll itself on “Feel the Noise” and euphemistically with “I Need My Rock ‘n’ Roll,” but his primary muse remains, as it started out nearly 40 years ago, women. The eighth-note pop of “Only Girl” and “Little Suzy” bring to mind the irrepressible desire of the Beat’s “Rock ‘n’ Roll Girl,” and Collins turns positively carnal on “Baby I Want You.” The great mid-tempo numbers of Bobby Fuller, Gary Lewis and the Beatles are echoed in “With a Girl Like You,” and “Don’t Know How to Treat a Lady” riffs on the Beatles’ “You’re Going to Lose That Girl.”
Originally released in 1969 on the Canyon label, produced by Swamp Dogg, and recorded at Capricorn studio in Macon, I’m a Loser is Doris Duke’s best album, and up until now, one of her hardest to find. Alive’s reissue is remastered and includes session photos and new liner notes from Swamp Dogg. Available October 29.Â
“Raw Spitt” was the alter ego laid on Charlie Whitehead by his friend and mentor Jerry Williams, Jr. The latter had recently renamed himself “Swamp Dogg,” and was beginning to build a stable of artists. Williams and Whitehead had met in New York, and they developed a rich musical relationship that included both songwriting and original performances, with Williams producing Whitehead for this 1970 release on the Canyon label. Whitehead would release later material under his own name, but it’s the socially-charged songs of this rare full-length debut that minted the singer’s reputation with soul fans.
Written primarily by Williams and Troy Davis, the album is apiece with Swamp Dogg’s own debut, Total Destruction to Your Mind, and this reissue includes a version of Total Destruction‘s “Synthetic World” among the five bonus tracks. Aside from a few pop and soul covers (“Put a Little Love in Your Heart,” “This Old Town” and “Hey Jude”), the album is populated with outspoken songs of social malfunction – rough childhoods and racially proscribed adulthoods – and anthems of unyielding will and self-empowerment. As on Total Destruction, the surface-level absurdity found in some of the song titles and lyric hooks quickly gives way to deeper messages; Williams was a man with much to say, and having found a forum, he was going to say it with little indirection.
Heavy electric boogie blues
