Monday, April 22, 2013

Lowell George...You Are Missed by Peter Reum

Lowell has passed through my musical consciousness at least once a week for the last 40 years. Like many creative forces who died young, the accomplishments Lowell left behind are often overshadowed by the "what would he have done had he lived" speculation. Like Duane Allman, another slide player who died young, Lowell was not only a powerful creator within his own band, but a potent sessions player whose contributions to other artists' albums were tasteful and enhanced most songs on which he played.

In reading Lowell's biography, Rock and Roll Doctor, written by Mark Brend, the complexity of this man and what drove him to express himself musically is explored in a sympathetic manner, yet with enough distance to allow Lowell's human frailties and compulsions to show.  Song by song, album by album, Lowell's contributions to the Seventies musical map are discussed.  The early history of Little Feat would be terribly diminished had Lowell not been there. It is easy to see Little Feat now as a band whose early years were formative, with their post Let It Roll catalog as their more contemporary work. Their work from Let It Roll until today is dominated by the dual talents of Bill Payne and Paul Barrere, with the addition of Fred Tackett, the powerful rhythm section of Richie Hayward, then Gabe Ford, Sam Clayton, and Kenny Gradney. There have been some people who took Lowell's place as lead singer, Craig Fuller, and Shaun Murphy. The parallel with the Allman Brothers Band is continued with that band's longevity despite Duane's and Berry Oakley's tragic deaths, which has been followed by years of powerful music from that group over roughly the same period of time as Little Feat's history. Both bands were begun in 1969.

One excellent point that Mark Brend makes about some of the early Little Feat group dynamics is that Lowell was a fairly controlling individual, an "alpha male." Despite this trait, at times Lowell was burned out, either due to poor health, or overwork, and recognized that he was not getting done what needed to be done, despite the need for control that  he had. This internal conflict is more common than uncommon among artists, visual or musical, and has plagued many artists through the years. What Lowell let go in Little Feat was the essence of their early sound...the quirky and often humorous songs, the beautiful and understated slide playing, and the lead vocalist responsibilities. By 1977's Time Loves a Hero, Lowell was a ghost in what had been his own band. The closest parallel to this situation might be the years when Brian Wilson was barely present on Beach Boys albums.

Still, there are the albums where Lowell's presence is not only felt, but is dominant. The first four albums were a body of work that any group would be excited to have released.  As Feat moved from a jazz/blues driven band to a New Orleans Funk influenced band, slowly the public's tastes caught up with them. As Mark Brend points out, sales went from 11,000 for the first album to eventual Gold Record Award sales levels for Feats Don't Fail Me Now, and eventually Waiting For Columbus.  While the latter was enhanced in the studio, it is a powerful document of live Feat, with there being plenty of "unofficial" unadorned live albums available for anyone who has ever wanted them. Lowell's prowess as a slide player who knew silence was his friend is prominent throughout his tenure with Little Feat.  It could be argued that by Time Loves a Hero, the silence was detrimental instead of helpful. Lowell's understated playing went counter to the long and loud guitar solos of the Seventies.

On his solo album, Thanks, I'll Eat It Here, his vocals came to fruition in what could be considered an uneven album as a whole. The unifying thread running through this diverse palette of songs is Lowell's exquisite use of his voice as an instrument. There is less of the "White Boy Sings the Woo Woos" as Van Dyke Parks once termed it. Lowell's vocals are still soulful, but are smoother and less blues influenced. When I asked Van Dyke about Lowell in 2004, he was visibly affected by my question, and the grief on his face was palpable, with Lowell's death seeming to have recently happened, rather than 25 years earlier. That Van Dyke loved Lowell is unquestionable, and his work with Lowell's daughter Inara has been a highlight of Van's recent work.

Had Lowell lived, I think he would be making music with Van Dyke and Inara. He would have been delighted to see his old friend mentoring and collaborating with Inara. Lowell's sense of humor is one of his best remembered traits. In listening to Inara's album with Van Dyke, I think she inherited some of his humor. I hope she has a long and storied musical life, and that her father is smiling, wherever he is.

Copyright 2013 by Peter Reum-All  Rights Reserved


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