THE EMBERS BURN HOT AS THEIR 1963 STOMPER “ALEXANDRIA” FUSES AVANT JUMPS WITH BLISTERING R&B.

 

what we know

“Alexandria” drives forward immediately: clapping, scratching, and thumping. The drums circle at about the one-minute mark, at which point, the saxophone madness begins in earnest. And does not cease. This 1963 “instro” grinds in all the best ways.

“How should I respond?” you might ask. Well, we advise you to jump. “How should I execute the jump?” you might ask. Squat down low, we suggest, and propel yourself into the air. Repeat. Vary the frequency and height as you see fit.

If you have a sweetie pie, you can wave hello on the way up, and on the way down. Do you have two sweetie pies? Well, you can wave to both on the way up, and both on the way down. Of course, they may have two sweetie pies themselves. You get the idea. Lots of sweetie pies. Lots of jumping. That’s not a bad worldview, now, is it?

Some may say “jazzy” and others may say “exotica” and still others may declare “northern soul.” Okay with us. We might add rock, R&B, and the “undisciplined blowing” of the soloist. (A compliment.) Thank the heavens for those saxophonists who blow mad jumps.

This may be the five core members of The Embers ca. 1962.

what we might know

A lot of bands called themselves The Embers, but this group likely hailed from Philadelphia. In addition to their work on Newtime, The (Philadelphia) Embers recorded on Newtown Records, also in Philly. The two labels were likely related.

As part of their output on Newtown, the group may have appeared as Ricky Dee and The Embers, a band that cut a few dance-pop sides in 1962. Their song “Work Out” will call to mind the 1962 Sam Cooke single “Twistin’ The Night Away.” Another ditty, “Tunnel of Love,” will recall the 1962 Nathaniel Mayer hit “Village of Love.”

The same group may have also appeared on the Sunset label as Pete Bennett and The Embers. This group cut two sides in 1961 — “Fever” and “Soft” — that were arranged by Bobby Martin, a Philadelphia-based producer. In fact, The Embers, if they are the same group across these three different labels, may have helped form a somewhat forgotten R&B sound pioneered by Mr. Martin in the Town of Brotherly Love.

As a “house band,” The Embers may have backed Patti LaBelle, who was associated with Newtime and Newtown. It is also possible that The Embers recorded on the New York City label, Wynne Records, in 1959. In all, they may have produced ten to twelve sides.


what we don’t know

We know very little, of course. “Alexandria” as in Egypt? We don’t know.

getting into the weeds: discography

The Embers featuring Geo. “Terror” Narr. “Burning Up The Airways.” Newtime 513A. Songwriting credit: A. Levinson, Rick Spain. b/w The Embers featuring Joe “Mack” Lackey. “Alexandria.” Newtime 513B. Songwriting credit: A. Levinson. Philadelphia, 1963.

[Comments: never underestimate the B-side. Ahem. “Rick Spain” represents the nom de plume of the songwriter / producer Richie Rome, born Richard V. Di Cicco. He apparently arranged the Inez & Charlie Foxx top-10 hit “Mockingbird” in the same year. Of “Burning Up The Airways,” we will note that it offers a mischievous and prowling score, with bari sax adding some gravity. We recommend it, too. As for “A. Levinson” — not too shabby, mate.]

The core band members may have been: Anthony Corona aka Bobby Arnell (tenor sax); Paul Longyhore (guitar); Tony Gasperetti (bass); Orlando Capriotti (organ); Rick Wise (Drums).


extended discography

Ricky Dee and The Embers. “Work Out (Part 1)” b/w “Work Out (Part 2.)” Newtown 5001. Philadelphia, 1962.

Ricky Dee and The Embers “Work Out” b/w “Tunnel of Love.” Newtown 5001. Philadelphia, 1962.

Pete Bennett and The Embers. “Fever” b/w “Soft.” Sunset 1002. Philadelphia, 1961.

The Embers. “Peter Gunn Cha Cha” b/w “Chinny-Chin Cha Cha.” Wynne W-101. New York, 1959.

Gloria Hudson with The Embers. “Hawaiian Cha Cha” b/w “I’m Glad For Your Sake.” Wynne W-104. New York, 1959.

sources of information

45cat entry for “Alexandria
45cat entry for Ricky Dee and The Embers (primary release)
45cat entry for Ricky Dee and The Embers (second release)
45cat entry for Pete Bennett and The Embers
45cat entry for The Embers on Wynne
Discogs entry for Gloria Hudson and The Embers
Billboard May 5, 1962
Billboard June 23, 1962
Billboard March 23, 1963
Wikipedia entry for Bobby Martin
Wikipedia entry for Richie Rome
Various blogs & speculation, etc. 

CONFLICT RESOLUTION: THE BUCK STOPS HERE.

 

Two bucks demonstrating why they have antlers. Not wanting to see either of them get punctured, I applied some time-tested conflict resolution techniques. That is, I flattered them. (In my silly accent.) Told them they were a couple of good looking deer and why battle one another? By the way, I praise all the animals in my orbit. Tell them all they are good looking. This seems to work. They seem to perk up, do the beasts, when they hear a touch of the old flattery. By the end of the clip, these two blokes do appear to be a wee bit bewildered. They are, therefore, bewilder-beasts. Oi!

JOY ON FIRE RELEASES AN ALBUM -- STATES OF AMERICA -- THAT WILL THROTTLE YOU (AS IT SHOULD) WITH SOME HARD-CHARGING JAZZPUNK.

 
We don’t say “throttling” anymore, but if we do, we mean giving you a good, solid “rattling.” These songs have hands. They will reach out, through the streaming device, and “throttle” you. They will “rattle” you in your waistcoats & petticoats. Normally, we’d urge you to flee, but we believe that, after a good, solid throttling & rattling, you will want to play States of America again.

Click [here] to purchase States of America at Bandcamp

Click [here] for the Joy on fire website / more info 

Personnel: John Paul Carillo (bass, guitar, songwriting); Anna Meadors (sax, vocals, lyrics on “Dangerous Whimsy”); Dan Gutstein (vocals and lyrics; backup vocals and lyrics on “Dangerous Whimsy”); Chris Olsen (drums).

Some recent press:

Bob Boilen noted the band’s “fiery sound” when debuting “Thunderdome” and its video on NPR’s All Songs Considered.

American Pancake cited the jagged punk eruptions for song and video “Happy Holidays.”

Jammerzine described the Joy on Fire song and video “Selfies” as being “sonically decadent in all the right spots.”

Kendra Beltran posted a great interview with the group at ZO Magazine.

The video for “Uh Huh” has been an official selection, or better, at more than a dozen international film festivals, including Obskuur Ghent Film Festival, where it won.

Thanks for your support! Oi. 

CUB LIFE: THE RED FOX KITS ENGAGE IN NUTTY MAYHEM & WE HAVE THE FOOTAGE.

My fondness for foxes knoweth no boundaries. In fact, I have befriended a wild red fox and these are her cubs. Some days, I count seven of them. Some days, eight. It’s like, one day, there’s an extra kit, somehow. They leap, do the kits. They tussle. They careen ahead. On the nuttiness scale, I give them a 10 out of 10. Their nutty mayhem exceeds the norms, by several standard deviations! My friend, the mother fox, must shake her head at all this mayhem. She has more kits than the woman who lived in that funky old shoe. Clearly, the mother fox digs all of these offsprings, because all of them look good. At the end of the clip, you can see that I’ve made a new buddy. Li’l fella. Li’l critter. Oh yeah. 

Yes, I know about the flamingoes. Please don’t tell me that a wild red fox (allegedly) broke into the zoo and ate two dozen flamingoes. (And one duck.) I concede this alleged mal-pheasants (sic). Some of you eat meat. Some of you, like me, are vegetarians. (Or okay, they cook me a fish once in a while, where “they” equals salmon canneries.) Did the squash ask to be harvested? Did the salmon leap willingly into the net? Did the flamingo hanker to see the wild red fox (purportedly) squeezing through some kind of preposterous hole in the fence? We all want to eat. Nobody wants to be eaten. These geese seem to be gradually reaching a state of awareness concerning such matters. As do the kits. 

The shadows of the little ears in late day sun motes. The pouncing! I mean, with seven (or eight) siblings, that means seven (or eight) pouncings, daily, hourly, momentarily. Lo, the pouncings. The game of tag around the tree. The chases. The tail-bitings. Lo, the tail-bitings. Occasionally, you’ll view the solitary kit, the introspective kit, the sensitive soul, the tortured artist! But not for long. Because they pounceth anew. They tail-biteth anew. Lo, the little ears in late day shadows. I think it is a perfectly defensible position in life to want, to be, one of these kits. I know I want, to be, one of these nutty cubs.

Further Reading: 

For more information on the chapbook that chronicles my relationship with the mother of these kits, please see this here post, and thanks again to Phyllis Rosenzweig at Primary Writing Books, for publishing said chapbook.

Moreover, this is the post that started it all. 

The videos are titled: (1) Red Fox Kits Nuttiness! (2) Fox Kits Organize a Delegation to Meet the Geese. (3) Cub Life -- The Red Fox Kits. Oi. 

I DON’T LOVE NOBODY: EARL JOHNSON & HIS DIXIE ENTERTAINERS STRIKE A DEFIANT TONE ON ‘AMOUR’ BUT NOT WITHOUT SWINGING THE PARTY MAAAAADLY.

 

Our deep dive into historical old-time fiddle music continues. Behold one Earl Johnson, fiddler, and his walloping tune “I Don’t Love Nobody” from 1927. Our musicology team has been working overtime, and below, Dear Reader, you can find biographical details, beguiling analyses, full lyrics, and session details, amidst our usual incitements to drink and dance. We suggest that you have a few sips of swamp gas (aka moonshine), turn up the volume, and yes: jump around.

We’re talking some greasy, rowdy, electric, filthy fiddling. One imagines the strings of Johnson’s instrument fraying after every “hoedown.” However it goes, it goes madly. Whoever sings the high falsetto novelty stuff in the chorus — well, that fellow will understand your loneliness, Pilgrim, and he’ll make you feel A-okay about the lack of love in your life. It’s a standoff, basically. “I don’t love nobody, nobody loves me.” Might as well hop in concert to the bedlam. Might as well laugh and cry all at once. “Boop” goes the cap on the moonshine.

Johnson was born into a musical family, in 1886, near Atlanta. Early on and throughout his career, he played with luminary Georgia musician Fiddlin’ John Carson. [Nota bene: It is possible that Johnson is ‘second fiddle’ on Carson’s version of “Goodbye Liza Jane,” a tune that is part of the “Liza Jane” family of songs.] A virtuosic performer himself, Johnson became state fiddle champion (in Georgia) in 1926, a year before he cut this side for OKeh Records. In all, he recorded more than 50 tunes for a variety of labels, toured broadly, and was eventually enshrined in the Atlanta Country Music Hall of Fame.

Earl Johnson

Like many musicians of his era, including Carson and African American guitar player Peg Leg Howell, Johnson repurposed songs that had been mainstays of burnt cork minstrelsy. “I Don’t Love Nobody” was written by minstrel performer Lew Sully and dates to at least 1896, if not earlier. The lyrics of the original Sully version are horrendously racist, while, mercifully, the Johnson version is much milder, almost to the point of being a completely different song: in fact, the ‘speaker’ of Johnson’s song is probably meant to be white and not a white person pretending to be Black. Nevertheless, the singing style of Johnson and his bandmates may blend old-time and minstrel traditions. It is important to acknowledge this type of difficult archaeology, even as we can appreciate Johnson’s fiddling skills and the upbeat rowdiness of the music.

Here, now, we offer instructions on how to proceed. Scroll up to the top of the page and click “play” on the video. That would be number one, and after that — well — allow yourself to be swung maaaaadly.

Lyrics, session details, and sources of information follow. Enjoy.

lyrics:

I Don’t Love Nobody (1927)
Earl Johnson & His Dixie Entertainers


Met Miss Martha Johnson down at a colored ball
Tried her best to shake me, that wouldn’t work at all
She told me her troubles, she asked me for a dime
G’wan now honey, you ain’t no gal of mine

Chorus:
I don’t love nobody, nobody loves me
You’re after all my money, you don’t care for me
Gonna live single, always be free
I don’t love nobody, nobody loves me

Went out with [a matron]* down on Peter Street
Met some tall li’l lady, she smiled at me so [mean]**
She told me she loved me, and marry me to git away
G’wan now honey, you ain’t gonna talk with me

Chorus

Down in Alabama, settled down for life
Met a girl named Dinah, I choosed her for my wife
See that gal every Sunday, and I asked her to marry away
See that gal on Monday, and this is what she said:

Chorus

Met Miss Martha Johnson down at a colored ball
Tried her best to shake me, that wouldn’t work at all
She told me her troubles, she asked me for a dime
G’wan now honey, you ain’t no gal of mine

Chorus


Notes:
*Second verse, first line: “matron” is what we hear. Other possibilities include “Mabel” or some half-slurred version of “promenading”
**Second verse, second line: “mean” is what we hear. Another possibility might be a half-slurred version of “sweet”

session details:

Earl Johnson & His Dixie Entertainers. Earl Johnson, fiddle; Byrd Moore, guitar and lead vocal; Emmett Bankston, banjo; Ensemble chorus; Other musicians, if any, unknown. Recorded March 23, 1927 in Atlanta, Ga. Released as OKeh 45101.

 
sources of information:

--Daniel, Wayne W. Pickin’ on Peachtree: A History of Country Music in Atlanta, Georgia. University of Illinois Press, 1990
--Discography of American Historical Recordings page for “I Don’t Love Nobody”
--Earl Johnson biography at AllMusic Guide
--Sully, Lew. “I Don’t Love Nobody.” Howley, Haviland & Co. (New York: 1896). This burnt cork minstrelsy sheet music publication can be accessed at its Library of Congress page; be forewarned that the content is offensive

MY BEST MATE FROM THE ANIMAL KINGDOM: A WILD RED FOX PHOTO ESSAY

By now, many of you know my best mate from the animal kingdom. These photos were all taken in March and April 2022, about 24 to 30 months after I first met this wild red fox. Many thanks again to Phyllis Rosenzweig at Primary Writing Books, who published a book of poetry and photography about this unlikely friendship. Lo, my fox friend has given birth to three or four fluffy kits. They bounce around happily in the undergrowth and shrubberies. My stunning rusty red friend, pictured above, took some time to visit with me, before returning to motherly duties. A key to the photos follows.

1. Classic blogger / fox eye contact.
2. Drinking water from a puddle.
3. Checking on the kits.
4. A good looking fox. I melt every time.
5. Whoa! What was that?
6. Foxy activities.
7. The whole fox. What a tail!
8. Healthy, alert, jokester, rusty red, fierceness.

THE FOX WHO LOVES ME: NEW CHAPBOOK AVAILABLE.

You may recall, Dear Reader, I have befriended a wild red fox, and in the course of this endeavor, I have snapped photographs and composed some snappy prose pieces. Lo and behold, The Fox Who Loves Me has appeared as a perfect-bound chapbook. It features said photography and said prose. Masterfully published by Primary Writing Books, an imprint directed by the estimable Phyllis Rosenzweig of Washington, D.C., The Fox Who Loves Me chronicles my many encounters with this vulpine soul, in summer and winter, light and dark, dry and snow.

The fox herself, a rusty-red vibrant young critter, continues to orbit me. (Or vice versa: I continue to orbit her.) I see her virtually every day, typically around sunset. In addition to her striking colors, she also radiates mischief and intelligence. An opportunistic omnivore, she chows down on rodents and watermelon wedges alike. When I trot, she trots, we trot; we have jogged together several times. Lo and behold, as springtime has blossomed-forth, she has started to keep company with a bloke-fox. I attempt to conquer my heartbreak sensibly: with sessionable stouts and ales.

Let us sing the praises of Phyllis Rosenzweig. Her press has published authors from two generations of the “D.C. Poetry” crowd. Collectively, these Primary Writing Books—penned by the likes of Doug Lang, Ken Jacobs, Lynne Dreyer, Cathy Eisenhower, Chris Mason, Lorraine Graham, and Phyllis herself—explore the boundaries of poetry, prose, and image. Both a writer and curator, Phyllis has garnered MVP honors more than once: I’m recalling, in particular, the pre-pandemic chaos of an Adams Morgan Day street festival, when she joined me and Rod Smith for outdoor-indoor poetry readings at Libertine and the Black Squirrel. The three of us made a formidable team.

The Fox Who Loves Me checks in at 32 pages, with color photographs. Design by Bob Allen. Author illustration by Emily Cohen. To order a copy of this limited-edition chapbook, reach out to Phyllis [email: phyllisrosenzweig at comcast dot net] and she will give you ordering instructions. This would be a perfect gift for fox lovers and poetry lovers alike.  

Please consider supporting the vital work done by small presses. Without them, we would never witness the evolution of language and story.