SHAWN PHILLIPS - At The BBC (Hux Records HUX102, 2009)
It’s something of a cliché to say it but unbelievably Shawn Phillips
remains on the periphery of mainstream rock, despite selling hundreds of
thousands of albums and singles since he first came on to the scene in
the 1960s. Once famously described by the late rock impresario Bill
Graham as ‘the best kept secret in the music business’, Shawn has
collaborated with the good and great, from Stevie Winwood and Eric
Clapton, to Donovan and Bernie Taupin, was cast to play the lead in the
original production of Jesus Christ Superstar (he had to pull out due
to his other music commitments), written soundtracks for and starred in
movie,s and yet he’s as far as ever from being a household name. Born in Fort Worth, Texas on February 3, 1943, Shawn was smitten by pop
music from an early age. ‘My father gave me a Stella guitar when I was
six, and it started there’, he recalls. ‘ Texas blues and rock’n’roll on
the radio - "Rockin’ Robin" for one, and the Everly Brothers and such’.
In 1959 he left Texas, ‘because the police wanted me for my
automobile. It was fast’, and he ended up in the US Navy for the next
three years until he was discharged. ‘Honorable discharge’, he now
quips, ‘it was due to medical reasons. I had too much cartilage in my
knees (it’s called Osgoodschlatter’s Disease. A lot of young sports
people get it). I later had it corrected’.
As fate would have it, he ended up in Southern California where he
befriended singer/guitarist Tim Hardin. ‘I met Tim in LA around 1962’,
he recounts, ‘after we had known each other for several weeks, he
suggested we go to New York ’. The folk revival was in full swing and
Greenwich Village was awash with a wave of new talent, they were soon
rubbing shoulders with the likes of Fred Neil, Ritchie Havens and a
young Bob Dylan. As he later joked, ‘I played every class A club that
exists in the United States from the ‘Hungry I’ on down to the other
end. The best gig I ever had was the Café Au-Go-Go when it opened, with
Lenny Bruce’. But there was obviously a bit of the Woody Guthrie in Shawn, he’s
always been a travelling man. Whilst in Toronto he met the classical
Indian musician Ravi Shankar and ‘he set me off with the desire to play
sitar. I left the States to go to India to study the instrument. I got
waylaid in London by Denis Preston, who heard me sing at a party and
asked me if I wanted to make a record. I told him sure as long as
there’s no time clause to the contract. Never got to India but I learned
to play the instrument anyway’.
It was in London in Ivor Moraint’s famous Music Store that Shawn met
Donovan Leitch, who was just enjoying his first taste of fame and they
shared a fruitful if brief relationship, with Shawn touring America with
the young guitarist, they even played the Pete Seger TV show, where
Shawn was interviewed by the great ex-Weavers singer about the sitar and
mentor Ravi Shankar. But the relationship with Donovan was rather
one-way and in 1971 Shawn would observe, ‘we wrote a lot of things
together and there wasn’t over much said about my part. The only thing I
ever got credit for was "Little Tin Soldier" on the "Fairy Tale" album.
We co-wrote "Season of the Witch". We were sitting there on the floor
and I was playing my guitar and Don started making up words to what I
was playing. And I made up that funny little riff that you hear on the
original ‘Season of the Witch’. The "Sunshine Superman", I co-wrote most
of the stuff on that’. However, Shawn’s stay in the UK was cut short by the Home Office, ‘the
English government said my work permit had expired and I must leave
England for three months’, a short bout in jail in Dublin and a stay in
Paris followed, before Shawn found a new base in Italy. ‘My friend Casy
Deiss told me to go to Positano and return after three months was up. I
didn’t’. This little Mediterranean fishing village was to be Phillips’s
home for the next 13 years, and its friendly, gentle atmosphere would
provide him with the perfect environment to write and develop as a
musician.
He’d already recorded a number of singles and albums for various EMI
imprints, but in 1968 he signed to A&M and embarked on a project
which should have cemented his reputation as not only a gifted composer,
a fine singer, highly innovative guitarist and multi-instrumentalist,
but also as a musician willing to take chances. It should have
catapulted him into the big time. Recorded at Trident Studios in London
with producer Jonathan Weston, Shawn began his most ambitious work to
date, Trilogy. Unfortunately as he later opined, it ‘took me four and a
half years to make and it took them (A&M Records) about two weeks to take
apart’. All that music that he’d been soaking up since his first got
into the business five years before poured out in an amazing splurge of
creativity and originality, written against that sweeping psychedelic
backdrop of the late 60s, it combined elements of jazz, rock, folk,
blues, gospel, classical and his love of Indian music to stunning
effect. It should have been his masterwork, his "Solid Air" or "Sgt.
Pepper". It was a tragedy that the work was never released as it was intended. As
Shawn recounted to Goldmine in 2006: 'the Trilogy was actually made and
presented to A&M Records with the stipulation that each album would
be released separately so that people would not have to buy all three
at once. Everyone at A&M said yes to this project except one man, an
executive at A&M. He considered it was unrealistic and looked at it
solely from a financial standpoint, never even considering the artistic
endeavour involved. He was the comptroller at the time. He made me take
the Trilogy apart and put eight of the songs on to one album, which
became "Contribution". The rest, with the exception of one or two songs,
went on to "Second Contribution". This man was one of the forerunners for
the desolate miasma the music business is today’.One can only ponder on
what might have been had the original concept prevailed.
Even so these two records, which eventually emerged in 1970, are not
without their pleasures, the first LP featured some great Phillips
songs and also superlative playing not just from Shawn but from old
‘Slow Hand’ himself on "Man Hole Covered Wagon", and Messrs Winwood,
Capaldi and Wood (Traffic) on ‘For RFK, JFK and MLK’. ‘Every single song
was recorded in less than three takes and the master vocals were not
overdubbed later but were done in the same moment’, says Shawn. Second
Contribution was more experimental and abstract with fabulous
orchestrations from Paul Buckmaster. Despite these major frustrations with his record label, Shawn came to
record his first Peel session on something of a roll. Although never
well marketed, "Contribution" was described by Rolling Stone magazine as
‘one of 1970’s better efforts’. On Saturday afternoon 29th August he’d
played unbilled to an audience of some 500000 people at the third Isle
of Wight Pop Festival. The previous December he had also released a
well-received Yuletide 45, "A Christmas Song". Indeed, side by side with
the broadcast of his first BBC session, Rolling Stone had also just
given him a highly positive centre spread, written by noted critic Chet
Flippo. The timing could not have been better.
Phillips’s staunchest fans already know what a treat these Beeb
recordings are, but with 38 years of hindsight it strikes this scribe
somewhat odd that in the realms of ‘legendary sessions’ done by
‘Auntie’, this is never mentioned in despatches. To these ears at least,
it’s up there with the likes of Tim Buckley’s legendary 68 recordings
for the corporation. Kicking off with "Hey Miss Lonely" which he would
later re-do in 1972 in LA with highly regarded session men Lee Sklar and
Sneeky Pete Kleinow as part of the sessions for Faces, this gets us off
to a cracking start. Shawn’s memories of this session are at best
sketchy but he wryly adds, ‘Fuck me! Did I do that ? OK, the acoustic
tunes are what they are, and I notice I flat picked "Hey Miss Lonely", I
finger pick it now, and can’t remember when I started doing that’. The
version on Faces is a gentler take with a country lilt rounded out by
Sklar’s lovely bubbling bass and Pete’s sweet steel. The Radio 1
recording here maybe a rawer snapshot but both versions work equally
well. In contrast "Spring Wind" is a reading take of the 9 ½ minute full-blown
electric epic found on 1971’s "Collaboration" - an introspective,
brooding piece which features some incredibly dexterous picking from the
man and the lower range of his wonderfully elastic voice. "Salty Tears"
is a bluesy number, with superb harmonising between his guitar lines
and voice, Shawn could flick from a low rumble to a soaring falsetto in
the blink of an eye, this is a performance of one of the more obscure
songs in his catalogue that only ever saw the light of day as the
flipside of the 1974 single "All the Kings and Castles" - and it’s the
only number on the session to use an electric guitar and the way he
wields his Fender Telecaster is just jaw-droppingly brilliant.
For most musicians a performance like that would be hard to top but the
last two numbers from March 1971 are just as potent, and both taken from
the aforementioned "Contribution" LP. Shawn’s driving 12-string playing is
given full flight on "Withered Roses". The song starts with a stunning
raga-like sequence - shades of the great Fred Neal and David Crosby here
- before a full onslaught of super-fast picking. In 2008 Shawn
observes, ‘I have a conundrum. I’ve been thinking about playing "Withered Roses" again in concert, but instead of an acoustic 12-string,
I would use an electric 12-string. Peter Robinson has my original
Gibson 12 string at his home in LA. He sampled it for use on his New
England Digital Synclavier. I would rather it be in safe place, as it is
the second 12 string Gibson made, after the prototype. Barney Kessel
got the first one. We played a session together once, and he played
mine, and I played his, and he offered to trade mine for his, with $500
on top of that. I said, “Don’t think so. Thanks anyway”’. "L. Ballad" is just gorgeous, one of his best - a song brimming with
mystery and imagination that has undergone various transformations. Here
somewhat reminiscent of the best work by the Tims (Hardin, Rose and
Buckley), it was later re-done for Faces where Shawn was backed up by
Skaila Kanga on harp and the 85-piece David Katz Orchestra with a
haunting, majestic arrangement courtesy of Paul Buckmaster. Even so,
this unadorned solo version is hard to fault, it’s the real jewel in the
crown of this first BBC set. By the time he came to do the next BBC session for Bob Harris in March
1973, Shawn was regularly working with a backing band which featured
Drummer Barry de Souza, guitarist Tony Walmsley and keyboard player
Peter Robinson. As Peter recalls, ‘I met Shawn in the autumn of 1971.
My long standing friend and fellow Royal Academy of Music alumnus, Paul
Buckmaster, had met Shawn during the recording of Contribution and took
me over to see him at his flat located in one of London ’s famously
secluded squares. We instantly hit it off and we all talked endlessly
until the wee hours. It was during these dialogues that Shawn asked me
to play keyboards on his next album. We took the songs from
"Contribution", "Second Contribution" and "Collaboration" on the road and I
played with Shawn for the next five years in concert. On the Bob Harris
Show we had no bass player at that time and so I played all the bass
parts on Fender Rhodes bass keyboard. The only other group I knew about
that utilised this instrument was the Doors’. First up is "Spaceman", done for the "Collaboration" album, a number says
Shawn ‘prompted by my getting hit on, on the street, by various sundry
Jesus freaks, whom I would invariably leave standing speechless, because
I would remind them of the origins of the bible, and the myriad
cultures that actually contributed to its writing, much of which was
long before Jesus. For someone who loves Jesus so much, they weren’t
real happy with the truth. Also contributing to it was a blonde lady
(now long forgotten), that piqued my fancy’. "Not Quite Nonsense" was
another song from the Contribution record – something of a humorous
break-neck tongue-twister - ‘”will the lady in the rear please be kind
enough to take her lovely hat off”’, was actually the line that set the
writing of the song off’, he says, ‘I like the ending as well, “and
we’ll call a stop to all that’s not harmonic”. There wasn’t anything
left to say. Dead stop’.
There is a pair of aces from the Faces record: "Anello" has a Donovan
flavour particularly in the vocal phrasing, not surprising given their
earlier friendship, whilst "I Took A Walk" shows the more political side
of Phillips’ song writing. Talking now of the versions recorded for Bob
Harris, Shawn says: ‘OK, what you have to remember is that in the
studio when you’re trying to make an album, you have time to create
several different moments, whereas in the radio studio you’ve got to get
it right the first time. Each situation is different’. The take of "Took A Walk" is certainly faster and snappier, with Robinson’ electric
keyboards adding a funkier edge compared to the one on the record. The final contribution to this session is another gem: "Dream Queen",
later recorded for 1974’s "Bright White" album, is pretty much another
solo performance. Phillips adds, ‘I think the guitar I was playing was a
Fender 6-string bass. I had turned the bridge around, so I could put
guitar strings on it’.
When Phillips came to do his second Peel show in October 1974 former Big
Three bassist Johnny Gustafson had replaced Tony Walmsley. Gustafson
had already played with Shawn on "Spaceman" and had been in the
prog-rock organ-led power trio with Peter Robinson, Quatermass, and
they’d co-headlined concerts together so this was a grand reunion. The
funk elements that had been peeping through on the Harris recordings
were now given full reign. Phillips’s music was now following a heavy
jazz-funk direction. Peter Robinson recalls, ‘we recorded an album
called "Furthermore" which made several musical turns to funk and extended
improvisations. We were asked to record again for the Beeb in 1974, for
John Peel. What a gentleman. He treated us so well and, I think, it
made us play better. Thank you John!’ The final tracks on this Hux
release are all based on tracks recorded for that LP. Talking about this
change of style, Phillips now observes, ‘Truthfully, I have to pass the
buck on to Pete (Robinson) and Paul (Buckmaster). They opened my mind
to soooo much music: Stockhausen, Miles, Penderecki, composers who made
music that made you run out of the fucking room.’
About that final Peel session, he adds: ‘I have to say that I think they
were amazing moments. Dude, Miles would be proud. The jam on "See You / Planscape" is wonderful. ’92 years’ is funk personified, and "Talking in the Garden" / "Furthermore" just flat out smokes. I can’t
believe the tempo on "January 1st". Great energy by everyone involved’.
Gustafson adds: ‘It’s difficult to say how the music evolved, but Shawn
was always open to ideas as long as it didn’t interfere with his
original concept. For instance, when we rehearsed "January 1st" in Los
Angeles, there wasn’t an arrangement as such so after a few attempts I
tried something quite fast that I thought might fit in with Barry’s drum
pattern. It was just a repeated bass riff spread over an A flat minor
7th scale. It seemed to work after it was played more staccato’. Peter
Robinson, who played B3 Hammond Organ, Moog and ARP synthesizers, Fender
Rhodes piano, clavinets ‘and the kitchen sink thrown in for good
measure’ says, ‘Everything was done in one take! At the end of the song "Planscape", one can distinguish a somewhat truncated version of a tune
that Paul Buckmaster wrote for Miles Davis. I think
secretly Paul’s a little pissed off that Miles never credited him with
the composition so here it is, quoted as if to quietly cock a snoot.’
Going by these recordings, live gigs at the time must have been
extraordinary - there’s an incredible electricity to them that had not
been over evident in his earlier work. Shawn’s fixation with this type
of music would see him go on to work with various ex-Herbie Hancock
Headhunters sidemen, on records like "Rumplestiltskin’s Resolve", whilst
the spaced out jazz-funk jams would reach their zenith on 1977’s "Spaced"
and the 16-minute "Came To Say Goodbye". Sadly he has as yet never returned to the portals of Broadcasting House,
but he has gone on to enjoy a long career as a musician and continues
making interesting records and playing gigs to this day. He’s currently
living in Port Elizabeth, South Africa , where in between writing and
touring, he works as an emergency medical technician and fire fighter.
He remains outspoken too - when I spoke to him about the BBC sessions,
he finished with a typically forthright burst of Phillips insight - ‘now
I got a question for you. Why don’t we hear music like this today ?
Where are the artists and musicians that create at that level ? Seems
everybody wants to play rock, blues or pop. For me today rock is
standard chords with amps at 11, and no substance, and pop is
oversimplified, and panders to the raging hormones of adolescent
teenagers, and I don’t play blues, because I’m not black, and have no
conception of the depths of despair those people suffered under such
oppression, and never will. Any white guy that says they can identify
with that is deluding themselves’.
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