| Contents |
Hamilton, Ohio: Driving the blues -- New Orleans: Sea cruise -- Jackson, Mississippi: Just a dream -- Thibodaux, Louisiana: When there's no way out -- Shreveport: Susie-Q -- Houston: Treat her right -- Memphis: Cry like a baby -- Memphis redux: Whole lotta shakin' goin' on -- Muscle Shoals: Funky fever -- Norfolk, Virginia: If you wanna be happy -- Bakersfield: Act naturally -- McGonigle, Ohio: Lonnie on the move -- Cincinnati: Honky tonk. |
| Abstract |
When recording was more art than science, regional music centers flourished. From the 1940s to the 1970s, before corporate takeovers quieted their distinctive sounds, regional cities turned out hundreds of hits, from "My Guy" to "Five O'Clock World." Paying tribute to these neglected treasures, journalist and record producer Randy McNutt travels to Norfolk, Cincinnati, Muscle Shoals, Bakersfield, and beyond to seek the creators of hits and myths. Singers, songwriters, disc jockeys, producers, and session players eagerly discuss their communities and seminal hits that continue to influence musicians today. In Memphis, the author finds Marcus Van Story, the pioneer upright bassist, then goes backstage for a rockabilly concert at the Overton Park Shell--where a young Elvis Presley sang. In New Orleans, the author tracks recording engineer Cosimo Matassa to the French Quarter, where he once dumped a load of ice outside his tiny studio to cool Fats Domino and other hot R & B stars. In Houston, the author meets irrepressible soul singer Roy Head, who recalls when he bit Elvis on the leg and lived to tell about it. Along the way, the author stops in Thibodaux, Louisana, for an impromptu wake at the grave of 1950s blues legend Eddie "Guitar Slim" Jones, a prototype of wild rock guitarists. The author also meets Dan Penn, his early musical hero who wrote songs for Aretha Franklin and cowrote the Box Tops' "Cry Like a Baby" in a moment of creative desperation; looks for the honky-tonks and heroes who gave shape to the "Bakersfield Sound"; and follows cult guitarist Lonnie Mack to a smoky Ohio roadhouse, where Mack plays old blues licks and recalls the piano player who set himself on fire while staring at Jackie DeShannon's miniskirt. In this personal odyssey, the author uncovers little-known chapters in musical history, and in the process finds a lost piece of America's soul. |
