A-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-bam-boom!

One of the original rock ’n’ roll 45’s was almost never recorded. “Tutti Frutti” was cut by Little Richard and produced by Robert “Bumps” Blackwell at Cosimo Matassa’s studio in New Orleans on September 14th,1955. It was not on the original list of tunes that they were going to do that day. The session was not going as well as everyone would have liked, so during a short break, “Little” Richard Penniman decided to sit at the piano and let off some steam.

He started playing a bawdy, salacious tune laced with homosexual humor that he had perfected playing in gay nightclubs with his band, The Tempo Toppers. The original lyrics went something like “Tutti Frutti, good booty / If it don’t fit, don’t force it / You can grease it, make it easy". It bears a resemblence to a song titled “Tutti Booty” recorded some 20 years earlier by a novelty jazz duo known as Slim And Slam. Some of us who had parents that were young during that era may remember them for novelty hits such as “Flat Foot Floogie (with a Floy Floy)” and “Cement Mixer (Puti Puti)”.

Bumps Blackwell heard Little Richard tear through this tune with his trademark ferocity and knew right then and there that it was a hit. He also knew that there was no way it could ever be released with those lyrics. So a local songwriter named Dorothy LaBostrie was hastily contacted to come in and clean it up.

By now , time was of the essence. The session was nearly over and there was not enough time to teach the piano player how to perform the tune. So Matassa re-positioned the microphones so that Little Richard could play and sing the track at the same time. Fifteen minutes and three takes later, “Tutti Frutti” was finished. Released that following November, it went to #2 on the Billboard Rhythm And Blues charts. Even more astonishing was it’s cross over onto the Pop charts (which were typically dominated by white artists) where it reached #17.

Subsequent versions were soon recorded by Pat Boone and Elvis Presley, and were also hits. Richard’s version however, remains the definitive one partly because of the aggressive raw nature of the recording, but chiefly because that ferocious power was being conveyed by a black man. Kids of all colors subsequently went nuts, and the popularity of “Tutti Frutti”would change the world both culturally and politically.

Pop Artists Re-Recording Their Old Material-Revisionist History? Or Just Desserts?

Music purists may be troubled by a recent trend in which artists from the 60’s and 70’s are going back into the studio to re-record spanking new versions of their classic tunes.
The list appears to be growing by the day, from the “new” Squeeze album “Spot The Difference”, to Ray Davies’s choral collection from last year being followed up by a “duets” album of sorts in the upcoming “See My Friends”.

Do a little more digging and you’ll find that The Sex Pistols recently reunited in the studio to record a fresh version of “Anarchy In The UK” for the video game, “Guitar Hero III”. The list continues with everyone from Kiss to Uriah Heep jumping into the game.

Almost 40 years ago, Ray Davies wrote a song called “The Money-Go-Round” in which he wrote, “Do they all deserve money from a song that they’ve never heard? They don’t know the tune and they don’t know the words but they don’t give a damn…” Herein lies the purpose behind this trend. Music publishing over the years has been bought and sold and sold again. It’s been broken into pieces via corporate takeovers and piecemealed out to other companies and may have even been won in a high stakes poker game for all we know.

The demand for this music is as high as it’s ever been. From video games to the ending credits on TV shows and movies, the thirst for classic rock is insatiable towards all things commercial. Many times though, the effort it takes to gain publishing rights to use the music is either just too expensive, or just too complicated because there are too many entities that own portions and percentages of the tune. So, by the time you round up all these approvals and signatures, your product has either already missed it’s deadline to hit the market place, or less expensive options get utilized.

Those less expensive options are where these new recordings come in. By providing a new performance of the song, the artist has effectively cut out all these middlemen and created a cash flow that goes directly to them. In that same aforementioned song Davies also lamented, “But if I ever get my money, I’ll be too old and grey to spend it”.. If that was the lay of the land some 40 years ago, can you imagine how bad it must be now?

So before we criticize our rock heroes for performing revisionist history on their back catalog instead of coming up with new ideas, remember that they need to put peanut butter on the table just like the rest of us. And before we take the directors and producers of movies and TV to task for not using the original recordings of songs, try to understand how difficult the environment is for them to get the rights to these songs in order to complete their artistic vision.

Copy and paste this link into your browser to read Glenn Tilbrook of Squeeze explain why his band decided to do this.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/musicblog/2010/oct/25/squeeze-back-catalogue-up-junction

Cosimo Matassa

When the phrase “Legend Of Rock And Roll” is used, one rarely hears the name Cosimo Matassa attached to it. However, if one were to mention Fats Domino, Little Richard, Smiley Lewis, Lee Dorsey, Ray Charles, Jerry Lee Lewis and Roy Brown, chances are there would be more people nodding their heads in agreement than you’d find at a bobble head doll convention.

All those people and dozens more are intrinsically linked together for two main reasons. They are all trail blazing giants of the Rock and Roll/ R&B genre and they were all recorded at one time or another (in most cases extensively) by Cosimo Matassa, owner and engineer of J&M Studio, 840 North Rampart Street, New Orleans, LA, USA.

The path was an unlikely one. Around the time of World War 2, Matassa was a reluctant chemistry major at Tulane University. After dropping out, some minor health issues allowed him to avoid the draft. A short time later, his father demanded that he either go back to school or find some work.

Employment was readily available through the family business, an appliance store that also sold and serviced coin operated jukeboxes. This line of business would ultimately yield an inventory of used jukebox records that were then sold at the store. Demand grew and customers started asking about the availability of new records.

As the records began to outsell the appliances, Matassa came up with the idea of adding a recording booth in the back of the store, where people could come in for a fee and cut a record of their voice or anything else they wanted to. Word got around, and local bands came in to record their music. As this became more commonplace, copies of these local records would make their way to the storefront, resulting in even more business.

The Matassa family were reaping reasonable profits, and Cosimo was enjoying the added benefit of recording and selling the local music that he loved. However, the game would change dramatically on Saturday, December 10th, 1949. Imperial Records owner Lew Chudd was in town with one of his employees, Louisiana native Dave Bartholomew. Arguably the most accomplished and technically proficient musician to be based out of that area, Bartholomew worked for Imperial records as an arranger, songwriter, and talent scout.

Chudd had asked Bartholomew to take him around town to see some of the best local talent New Orleans had to offer. It wasn’t long before they found themselves at a local dive in the 9th ward checking out a set by Fats Domino. It became clear that this was the act to record, so a session was arranged for that aforementioned Saturday at J&M, the only studio in town.

One of the songs recorded on that day was called “The Fat Man”, and while there can never be a definitive first ever Rock and Roll record that everybody agrees on, it can be said without a doubt that “The Fat Man” is one of the earliest records ever made that helped shape the genre. At first, it was only a local hit during that Christmas. However, after selling a reported 10,000 copies in New Orleans in a mere 10 days, the record broke nationally in January of 1950.

The success of “The Fat Man” created a gradual groundswell of sorts, building up to the point where independent record companies like Specialty, Aladdin and Chess entered the scene. These companies, who were already enjoying considerable success recording R&B artists from other areas of the country came sniffing around New Orleans saying to Cosimo, “This area has got some good records coming out , and we want to record some”. He would then take them to all the places and let them hear whoever in his opinion was worth hearing. As a self described “general direction pusher”, Matassa took great pride in calling attention to the artists that he loved. Even though he was essentially doing the work of an Executive Producer and/or A&R man, he would be the first to admit that he was not market conscious enough to understand that he could’ve in fact charged considerable fees for these services.

As a result, New Orleans was to early Rock ‘n Roll what California was to the Gold Rush. The independent record companies came in and strip mined the area, paying Matassa nominal fees for studio time (15 dollars an hour plus the cost of materials) along with musicians receiving bare minimum royalties or sometimes nothing at all, a result of what Matassa describes as “questionable accounting”.

As the Fifties progressed, Cosimo became busier and busier, as more record labels from across the country migrated down in search of his expertise. “ I practically lived in that place…(The studio)…We’d start at nine o’ clock in the morning, and sometimes wouldn’t get out until midnight. We never charged for overtime, and that would go on for seven days a week”.

So what was the secret? What made these records sound so good? Part of the answer lies in the talent. Matassa was fortunate that people like Dave Bartholomew , Earl Palmer, and other great musicians were around and available. He is in fact , the first to defer all of the credit to them, rather than himself. There were other fortuitous random instances as well, such as the time when a Jewish Synagogue allowed him to purchase a Telefunken Neumann 47 state of the art microphone for a fraction of what it cost. The congregation did not want the microphone because it was German!

At first, probably up until 1954 or so, all performances were cut direct to disc, obviously with no tape editing. Matassa comments on those days by saying, “Those were the good performances, probably some of the best. Because they really WERE performances as opposed to the synthesized record you make today, when you lay down the rhythm and start putting things on top of it, three months and 12 sessions later nobody remembers what the original thing was really going to be like”.

Matassa also had the technical expertise from both being “naturally technically oriented” and by being a member of AES (Audio Engineering Society). “that helped me immediately. I got back issues of the journals and stuff like that. I got myself oriented really
easily. Going to conventions and talking to and meeting with people who were doing anything I was starting to do was a big help too”
More important than all those things though, was his uncanny instincts combined with his emotional connection towards what was being recorded. “I would always pride myself in being able to walk into a studio, stick the right microphone in the right place, set up a group and record them. Just like a guy who lays a lot of bricks, he knows how to grab a brick and a trowel”

“If you transmit an emotion to the listener, it’s a good record…it’s gonna be a successful record. Now, having said that, how you measure it, I don’t know how you predict it. I have not a clue. Because it just happens, and then everybody’s aware of it, you know.. it’s fundamental. And yet totally evasive”.

Although far from a household name, Cosimo Matassa is chiefly responsible for what is now known as the New Orleans Sound. His approach featured strong bass, heavy drums, and a strong vocal lead combined with light piano and horn. Legend has it that the knobs in his control room never moved from where they were permanently set. Virtually every R&B record made in New Orleans between the late 1940’s and the early 1970’s was engineered by Matassa and recorded in one of his four studios. A partial listing below reads like a who’s who of popular music during that time frame.

Goin Home-Fats Domino- (#1 Hit)
Good Rockin’ Tonight-Roy Brown-
Long About Midnight-Roy Brown-(#1 hit)
Lawdy Miss Clawdy-Lloyd Price -(#1 hit)
My Ding-a-ling-Dave Bartholomew- not a hit but Chuck Berry’s version did also hit #1
Honey Hush-Joe Turner(#1-widely considered as the forerunner to “Shake, Rattle and Roll”)
The Things I used To Do-Guitar Slim- (#1 hit)
Jock-A –Mo-Sugar Boy Crawford--later recorded as “Iko Iko”
Blue Monday-Smiley Lewis-
I hear you Knockin’ Smiley Lewis-
Poor Me-Fats Domino-(#1 hit)
Tutti Frutti”-little Richard
See You Later, Alligator-Bobby Charles
Long Tall Sally-Little Richard-(#1 hit)
Rip It Up-Little Richard –(#1 hit)
Ready teddy-Little Richard
Lucille-Little Richard
The Girl Can’t Help It-Little Richard
Jenny, Jenny-Little Richard
Good Golly Miss Molly-Little Richard
Let The Good Times Roll-Shirley And Lee-
I’m Walkin’ Fats Domino-(#1 hit)
Sea Cruise-Frankie Ford
First ever recordings by Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Rivers, and Allen Toussaint
Walkin to New Orleans-Fats Domino
I Want To Walk You Home-Fats Domino (#1hit)

Mother in Law-Ernie K Doe(#1 hit)
Ya Ya- Lee Dorsey

When asked about his legendary sound and his immense contribution to popular music, Matassa exclaimed humbly, “I don’t know if you can call the Cosimo Sound that distinctive. I tend to feel less about that than other people seem to. I’m not impressed with myself”. When asked about his status as a pioneer in the field of Rock ‘n Roll recordings he quipped.. “Pioneer…that’s the guy with an ass full of arrows”.

Discovering The New Orleans Soul Sound

Earlier this year, while reviewing several (if not most) of the 45 Rpm records that were released during 1969 there were several great memories and more than a few new discoveries. One of those records however, has led me to a virtual gusher of great music from not only the same approximate time frame, but dating all the way back to before the birth of Rock And Roll as we know it.

That record was “Break In The Road” by Betty Harris, a stunning example of 1960’s soul from New Orleans, Louisiana. It was written, produced and recorded by the great Allen Toussaint using his house band known as The Meters. Among the track’s many highlights are the searing guitar feedback by Leo Nocentelli, and the propulsive parade-style drumming of Ziggy Modeliste, his kit pushed way up in the mix by Toussaint. George Porter’s bass line anchors the whole recording, which is a landmark example of the amalgam of styles that make up the New Orleans sound.



Turns out that this was the last record Betty Harris would appear on. The phrase “tip of the iceberg” comes to mind as I begin to research this. There are so many possible directions to go in, from Eddie Bo, to Huey “Piano” Smith, Fats Domino, Lee Dorsey, who also recorded extensively with the aforementioned Toussaint, and many, many more.

The records by Lee Dorsey alone are so monstrous in their righteous groovy-ness it’s nothing less than a true eye opener to me. Best known for “Ya, Ya” and “Working In The Coalmine”, Dorsey also recorded many other fantastic records like “Give It Up” and “Yes, We Can”. I have yet to find a dud amongst them.

It goes without saying that Fats Domino is a Rock and Roll legend, but I still could not help but marvel at the sheer number of influential classic hits he actually had. Domino is easily New Orleans’s most prolific hit maker, but his peers recorded bunches of stuff that were just as good, and it boggles my mind as to why more of this music did not reach a wider audience.

You can try to go back as far as possible to trace this path from Jazz to Blues to Rock and Roll, but you wont find an actual date when one genre stopped and was replaced by another. The trails overlap each other and can be more accurately traced within the performances and recordings of the musicians from that area doing whatever it took to get a gig. From Dixieland Jazz bands working Rhythm and Blues tunes into their repertoire to musicians that would play in both Dixieland and Modern Jazz bands at the same time during any one day or weekend, New Orleans musicians were eclectic jacks of all trades that could play whatever, and whenever.

The authenticity of the actual recordings is the real payoff for me. This was 2 track technology recorded on a budget with little or no overdubs. The band simply had to play the tune from start to finish until they got it right with as few mistakes as possible. Guitars, pianos and other instruments that occasionally shift in and out of tune makes for the virtual cherry on top.

Nowhere is this more apparent than within the recording of Guitar Slim’s 1953 smash hit, “The Things I Used To Do”, which is widely acknowledged as one of the records that helped shape Rock And Roll. Backed by a young Ray Charles on piano playing his own arrangement, you can hear Ray shout out an audible “yeah!” near the very end of the track. This exclamation was not so much a cry of enthusiasm for what was being laid down as much as it was a sigh of relief that they finally made it through the entire track without any flubs!

Guitar Slim had a distinctive playing style, very much ahead of the curve towards what other players were doing from a melodic standpoint. It would be almost two years before followers like Chuck Berry burst onto the scene, although it seems that both men were influenced by the great Texas blues guitarist T-Bone Walker.

Like I said earlier, there are more directions to go in at this point than you can count. Research Fats Domino and you will no doubt uncover Dave Bartholomew. Trace the history of Allen Toussaint, and you will eventually end up finding out about Eddie Bo and Professor Longhair. Look into them both, and you will find out about Cosimo Matassa, whose J&M recording studio was the birthplace for so many of these seminal works.

I hope to write about all of these people and many more in depth at a later time, because even though the history is well documented for those that want to seek it, it still seems to be history that is not widely known. The origins of everything that was ever musical emanates from this region, with no disrespect intended towards Detroit, Chicago, New York, Memphis or any other scene .

It just seems that those other regions get talked up much more often than New Orleans does. Combine that with the fact that fewer records out of New Orleans “broke” nationally than out of any other region, and it makes for a thrilling first time listening experience. This music is an unrecognized part of our history, and what I want to do is convey this excitement in order to get our readers not so much to pick up a book, but to play and appreciate the records. As Lee Dorsey sang on “Give It Up”, “Don’t wait another longer…”.

The Battle Over “Iko Iko”

If you were ever to find yourself in New Orleans, Louisiana during Mardi Gras, it would be hard to not hear many of the local musicians singing and playing “Iko Iko”. The song tells a story regarding two warring tribes of Mardi Gras parade Indians. The tradition surrounding these parades dates back to the mid 19th century, and possibly even before.

The song depicts a chance meeting between a “Spy Boy” from one tribe and a “Flag Boy” from an opposing one. As the tradition goes, the spy boy would run ahead of the tribe, and the flag boy in between. The flag would bear the colors of the tribe and the flag boy would wave it to communicate messages back to the tribe’s chief.

Now it must be understood that this tradition is rooted in violence, so it’s no wonder that in the song’s lyrics the spy boy threatens to set the flag of the opposing tribe on fire. There were about 38 different tribes in and around the New Orleans area, and they had a penchant for starting brutal fights with one another. So dangerous were these altercations from generations ago, it used to be that when Mardi Gras Indians marched through neighborhoods, the townspeople would run away. Fortunately, the tradition has evolved away from fisticuffs and more towards which tribe has the most appealing costumes, and who sings and dances better. So now, people run towards the tribes in order to witness the colorful spectacle and be entertained.



The earliest example of this tradition is steeped in the cultures of African-Americans and Native Americans sharing a common bond as oppressed minorities. By disguising themselves as Indians, the Black people were able to avoid some of the inhumane racial segregation laws put forth by the white man. The tradition may have also evolved out of African – Americans dressing up as Indians to pay tribute to them for helping runaway slaves escape from capture.

Since the subject matter of the song goes back so far, the lyrics lend themselves to many opinions as to their origin. Some trace it back to Choctaw and Chickasaw Indians, while other linguists and historians feel that it’s either West African or even Haitian. What is certain though is that the song’s lyrics were lifted directly from those tradition rich parade tribes of New Orleans in 1953 by James “Sugar Boy” Crawford, who was attempting to use the street language of the day to cobble together a hit song in the same fashion that Lloyd Price did a year earlier with “Lawdy Miss Clawdy”.

“Iko Iko”, released under it’s original title of “Jock A Mo”, was a moderate hit locally in and around New Orleans, but never broke nationally. The lyric was actually sung by Crawford as “chock-o-mo”, but the record company misspelt the title of the song before sending it off to be manufactured.

Crawford’s band , Sugar Boy And The Cane Cutters, had earned some local status as a live act . His performing career though, would come to an abrupt halt when he was beaten up badly after a gig by some “rednecks” somewhere between the Mississippi/Louisiana state lines near the small town of Bogalusa.

Fast forward 13 years later to 1965. The Dixie Cups, a girl group vocal trio with all three members hailing from New Orleans are in a New York City recording session with record producers/songwriters Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller. During some down time, the three ladies begin singing a song their grandmother taught them, tapping studio ashtrays with drumsticks as accompaniment. Unbeknownst to them, Leiber and Stoller left the tapes running and the basic track for their next record, “Iko Iko” was in the can within the blink of an eye. After additional bass and drums were added, it would be released as a 45 rpm single and reach #20 on the Billboard charts, making it The Dixie Cups’ last bona fide hit record.

The Dixie Cups and their management knew very little about the origins of the song, much less it’s author. So when it was released the songwriting credits were given to their three members. Soon after that, they found themselves in a lawsuit with James Crawford, who claimed that “Iko Iko” was exactly the same as his composition, “Jock A Mo”.

The two parties would settle out of court in 1967, with the agreement that although Crawford could never claim authorship or ownership of “Iko Iko”, he would be credited a 50% royalty for public performances and radio broadcasts of the tune. Even though the two songs are clearly identical, Crawford elected to settle rather than continue to fight the battle while receiving no royalty at all. His reasoning being that it’s “better to get 50 percent of something as opposed to 100% of nothing”.

During the 1990’s, yet another group would claim to have written the song. The Dixie Cups’ former manager Joe Jones filed a copyright registration in 1991, stating that he had written it in 1963. Jones even went so far as to license the song for the Hollywood film, “Mission Impossible 2”. The Dixie Cups filed a lawsuit against Jones, and earned a unanimous verdict in their favor.

One of the most well known songs to ever come out of the New Orleans region, “Iko Iko” has been covered by a diverse range of artists from The Grateful Dead to Cyndi Lauper, Warren Zevon, Dr. John, and many, many others.

A 2002 interview that James Crawford gave to “Offbeat Magazine” is perhaps the best summary of how he unconsciously tapped into the rich tapestry of this country’s checkered history, and composed a song that will live forever.

Interviewer: How did you construct 'Jock-A-Mo?'
Crawford: It came from two Indian chants that I put music to. “Iko Iko” was like a victory chant that the Indians would shout. “Jock-A-Mo” was a chant that was called when the Indians went into battle. I just put them together and made a song out of them. Really it was just like "Lawdy Miss Clawdy". That was a phrase everybody in New Orleans used. Lloyd Price just added music to it and it became a hit. I was just trying to write a catchy song....
Interviewer: Listeners wonder what 'Jock-A-Mo' means. Some music scholars say it translates in Mardi Gras Indian lingo as 'Kiss my ass,' and I’ve read where some think 'Jock-A-Mo' was a court jester. What does it mean?
Crawford: I really don't know. (laughs)

Ooh im blogging from my mobile phone

Upscale Gyros

There was a show that I caught on The Cooking Channel the other day called "Cook Like An Iron Chef". It had a recipe for lamb that looked a little different, so I thought i'd try it.It ended up being too much work given the outcome which was a type of upscale gyro, albeit with no bread. However, there were some very good components within the recipe that I just may work into my regular repitoire.

First off, fresh oregano is awesome in salad. The recipe called for a vinegarette dressing that used fresh chopped oregano with radish, cucumber and radish greens. Radish greens are too bitter for me, so I just substituted romaine lettuce. The fresh oregano stripped off the stalks and chopped fine made for an awesome break from the salad blahs. Great flavor and highly recommended.

Secondly, the lamb itself was dredged in flour, dipped in egg and then coated with a mixture of panko bread crumbs and grated parmesan. While I am certainly no stranger to the extra crispy wonders of panko, it had never occurred to me to mix grated cheese into the crumbs. Previously, I would start with cheese, then egg, and then the plain panko. The result here was a much more tasty crust, not to mention an overall more consistent golden brown appearance.

So when we plated this thing, we started by putting down a yogurt sauce called "tzaziki" that was ok, but it was made with greek yogurt which also is just too bitter in flavor for me. The yogurt was mixed with some grated cucumber, lemon,garlic, salt and pepper. it was okay, but I just cant see myself reaching for that recipe again. The lamb cutlets went on top, with the salad on top of that. It actually tasted pretty good, and the textures of crispy,creamy and crunchy went well together.

So although the dinner that night was only a mild success, it did yield some interesting flavor techniques and combinations that I may in fact find myself returning to at some later date.