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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