Classic Blues Album Review: East-West by the Butterfield Blues Band

Classic Album Review: East-West by the Butterfield Blues Band

Note 2022: This review was written in the 90s and was part of the Delta Snake "Classic 60's Blues Album" series of reviews. It was republished online in 2014 and now, in 2022, edited down from its original length.

It's a special piece to me, as one of the founding members of the Butterfield Blues Band, Mark Naftalin, took an interest in the review and looked over early drafts. He gave me a great deal of feedback and backstories, which increased my insight into the album, and my conversations with him about the album are some of my fondest memories from that time. Mark was a generous person with his time and insights.

For that reason, I've made very few edits, only where there were obvious grammar mistakes. I wanted to leave the review basically as Naftalin saw it published.

CLASSIC 60'S BLUES ALBUM REVIEW: EAST-WEST by The Butterfield Blues Band

Note: You'll notice that many songs are discussed out of order as the review unfolds. The reason is that I wanted the review to follow the flow of my discussion and because the most influential changes often come from particular songs, not entire albums.

I owe a lot of thanks to one of the founding members, Mark Naftalin. He looked at the early drafts and offered many critical and helpful comments about the text. But, of course, the final opinions are my own and don't necessarily reflect Mark's view of this classic recording.

The Paul Butterfield Blues Band's "East-West" recording is one of the most important 60's era records, particularly in its effect on other musicians.

Given Mike Bloomfield's charisma at the time, particularly after their work with Dylan, they could have become rock stars. As it was, many later guitar greats like Carlos Santana (who stated it in an interview) admired Bloomfield, who was probably the first of the 60s American "Guitar Heroes," and as a side note, one of the guitarists who popularized the use of the Gibson Les Paul in rock.

Instead, the Band moved into more intricate jazz and modal territory, with at least one step into popular rock. It wasn't a sound that evolved in the often insular blues world. Instead, it was as much a part of The Times as the San Francisco psychedelic bands and, in many ways, predated and anticipated what happened later in the 60s.

Their awareness of the outside world differentiated them from all of the young blues bands of the day. Instead, the Butterfield Blues Band took the blues and related to the music as younger musicians aware of rock and jazz would have. The East-West record clearly shows a band aware of modal scales, jazz of all types, New Orleans R&B, and rock.

One change was Sam Lay's replacement on drums, a genius of a drummer named Billy Davenport. While Sam's work on the first album was superb, Davenport had a flexibility that could only come from a drummer who understood rhythm as a "pulse," providing propulsion as opposed to a beat, very much in the jazz sense.

It may be a digression, but it's interesting to briefly look over what happened in 1966 when East-West came out. Folk-rock was becoming big, the Jefferson Airplane was a harmony folk-rock band, the Beach Boys and the Byrds were beginning their periods of adventuresome work, and Miles Davis was Exploring modal-based jazz that seemed more straightforward on the surface but had a concept of space and time that became highly influential. The Beatles and Stones were turning everyone's idea of what a rock group was upside down.

The English Blues scene was splitting into a traditional faction exemplified by early Fleetwood Mac and John Mayall and an experimental one typified by the Yardbirds. By the late '60s, many of the above trends and ideas had merged...long improvisational jams based on interpretations of Coltrane, Miles, Sitar music, and other influences could be heard everywhere. Music seemed more "serious" but freer.

But back in 1966, there was "East-West." As you listen to the title cut, "East-West," and follow the changes in dynamics over its 13-minute length, one realizes that this work was visionary. One can see the entire gamut of jazz, modalisms, and even San Francisco psychedelic.

I've begun discussing what was the album closer first, but we do have the advantage of hindsight, and that cut did become the most famous and influential. The title cut was also a microcosm of the changes in the Band's sound. Gone was the straight-ahead attack of the first release. In its place was a complexity that wasn't always apparent on the surface. A careful listen will reveal a complex jazz-like undercurrent. It had a rhythm track that could have accommodated a multitude of ideas and tonalities. Instead, it made the various improvisations that followed work like a seamless flow of related ideas.

Elvin Bishop took the first solo and opened with the fieriest of the improvisations. Although not as technically adept as Bloomfield, his solo was more aggressive. His ideas and riffs were more straightforward, with a lot of attack, and on the surface, could strike the listener as showing less understanding of the modal concepts being explored. One thing is obvious...his solo works well as pure sound. The distorted riffs had tonal ideas that wouldn't have been out of place on an early 70's jazz-rock album. Although Bishop's solo is rooted in rock and blues, it still sounds fresh, and more so today.

At the time, Bloomfield's work tended to get the most attention, but to these ears, Bishop's work was just as integral to the arrangement's success. It is hard to quantify and put into words, but the best way to say it is that it is his energy that draws you into the song.

Butterfield's harp solo comes next, and he amplifies the sonic attack with which Bishop opened the song. The harp tone is aggressive, and as it unfolds, it comes across as a series of sharp, rapid ideas. At times, the music would seem to call for a fast flurry of notes (as in a traditional blues solo). Still, he would reverse practice and follow a trail upwards, then explore the tonal microtones and subtleties of a particular note or chord.

One could imagine that Butterfield may have shared a closer bond with Bishop than with Bloomfield (Bishop being the original guitarist in the Band). It shows in the music. The two solos sound as if they were built from the same mindset.

Bloomfield comes in next, and his cleaner tone and rapid-fire ideas are an ideal change in dynamics. His solo builds impressively, and the modal explorations show us a guitarist who seems exhilarated at discovering and exploring new and freer territory. Bishop's guitar comes back in, and the two build up to a peak that once again becomes almost pure tone and sound. One would be hard-pressed to find a better example of such pure sonic beauty, all the more remarkable for being created in 1966 by what was known as a blues band.The peak then subsides, and the rest of the song builds from a series of ideas that, at least on record, anticipate the "spacy jams" of the San Francisco bands.

One other significant departure in the group sound was not of the intellectual or theoretical variety. For whatever reason, the Band also covered a song by Mike Nesmith was, at the time, a member of the famous pop group the Monkees. The Band wasn't aware of this as the song was submitted to them by the publisher in the usual way songs are looked at and evaluated for a new album in demo form. 

Anyway...the song was "Mary, Mary," which many rock critics considered a good one. It is a remarkable and successful rock-blues experiment that still sounds as good as any modern blues artist has done since. The arrangement, originally a riff-song in its pop form, is done here as a darker piece, using a heavier guitar opening with harp and piano counterpoint. It was an arrangement that owes much of its success to Naftalin, an excellent keyboardist.

The other extended number on the record is "Work Song," which shows a jazz sensibility in the sound. It covers a wide range of approaches, which include the theme played in stop time, a succession of solos with ever more intricate and wild overlaps, and rhythm breaks on the downbeat of the final theme. It flows a lot better than I describe it. Bloomfield's use of the telecaster as a jazzy guitar in this song is something I wish other musicians would do more often. His solo builds and climaxes with octave runs, which in 1966 was a rare technical effect in the blues. If you love Albert Collin's "Highway is Like A Woman," you'll understand what I'm talking about.

Naftalin contributes organ work that is both adept and beautifully conceived. One interesting aspect is that he uses a lighter, cooler tone than the funkier Hammond sound of the day. It may not have come across as powerful as a Jimmy Smith number on the Hammond organ, but the more relaxed tone sounds more modern and hasn't dated.

Bishop's solo is the final one. It's interesting to hear him here and in later cuts, as it contrasts strongly with the Southern and Goodtime rock and roll he later did in the 70s (with considerable success, I might add).

One of the most robust jazz-flavored songs, yet firmly rooted in blues, is "Two Trains Running." It opens with a unison riff, hard bop style, and the shuffle rhythm that follows moves forward with an energy that reminds me of Art Blakey or Cannonball Adderly (who did some pretty fine blues also when he was in the mood).

PAUL BUTTERFIELD BLUES BAND (FIRST ALBUM)

The record opens with the Robert Johnson classic "Walkin' Blues" and features the arrangement that became one of the definitive versions. Nowadays, most rock and blue bands use that same march rhythm that drives the cut along. Perhaps this version isn't as well known as Elmore's "Dust My Broom arrangement," but Johnson was rarely covered better.

Next comes "Get Out Of My Life, Woman," performed about as flawlessly as you can. Most versions go hard on the rhythm and use a hard funk approach. In this case, the Band decided to lay back a touch, and the result is dramatic for such a small change. Davenport and Arnold's work is superb. Laying back on the rhythm made it an ideal keyboard song, and Naftalin's work here is the backbone of the arrangement. His right-hand work interacts with the rhythm section perfectly, and his fills and melody give the music a sophistication that will appeal to a modern listener even today.

"I've Got A Mind To Give Up Living" is a slow blues, done ballad style. Paul sings with great power and a natural sense of emotion that makes it classic. A cut that still sounds great now. Also, the way the piano and guitars interact and combine to create a single chord at some points is impressive. "All These Blues" turns the tempo up and is a chugging style of blues. Like the song before, the keyboards and guitars are used as an ad-hoc horn section. Butterfield's harp solo cuts through and combines with vocals in a call-and-response manner. Each musical phrase sounds perfect and focused.

"Work Song," Mary, Mary," and "Two Trains Running" follow and have already been discussed in detail. 

Next up is "Never Say No." It's called (by its author Percy Mayfield) "Never Say Naw." It's a quiet number in the "Tin Pan Alley" mold, but done like, say, Mose Allison would have done it. The general mood is atmospheric, and the Band's playing is understated. It should also be noted that this was Elvin's first recorded vocal and a fine debut.

The set ends with "East-West," and its placement is ideal. It's as if all the changes and subtle touches throughout the work led to this point. It's one of the greatest album-closers of all time. As time passes, I think there has been and will be an awareness that the blues underwent many changes during the '60s that were as momentous as any that occurred in the 50s. At the forefront of that change was the Butterfield Blues Band. What they did with the blues makes the Band's music so great. They chose exploration, change, and, most of all, the idea that the blues was an expression of the times.

In this, they were akin to the great explorers in the jazz scene.

- Al Handa

  May 2014

 Also by Al Handa:

My multi-part series on history of the Resophonic Guitar

Almost 20 years ago I was asked to write a multipart history of the Resophonic Guitar by the National Resophonic company. It was intended by the publicist at the time to be a sort of stopgap until a more formal company bio could be written.

Almost 2 decades down the line, the history that I wrote still remains on the website. They were great company to work with and it probably remains the highest-paid Web writing job I ever did.

It was based heavily on the worker Bob Brozman, probably the foremost expert on that type of guitar.

It's turned out to be my most enduring work on the web. It's a good introduction to those who are interested in the resophonic guitar, and one of the parts focuses on the blues artist that used it.

History Of The Resophonic Guitar

By Al Handa

http://www.nationalguitars.com/admin/history.html

The 20s Blues: Both a golden age, and mythology

The 20s was a pivotal era for a lot of music, not just Blues. Nowadays it's all called Blues or traditional jazz, but that's not what they called back then.

Virtually all the music produced by Afro-Americans back then was segregated into a segment called  "Race" records and it encompassed an extremely wide variety of genres. In fact it was so wide that is beyond the scope of a single blog to even try to explain it.

The black music scene back and was extremely diverse, and included what we now call the blues, and in some ways very controversial within that community.

The general impression of blues is that it was music that came from the hardships that Afro-Americans faced in America. There's a lot of truth to that, but that also inadvertently patronizes the music.

The music that Afro-Americans listen to at that time encompassed string band music and it's close relative, jug band, ragtime, jazz and pre-jazz music, popular showtunes, gospel, and even some classical performers.

The advent of the recording industry began to document these various genres and the side effect of course was that they began to diverge into separate genres.

The Blues that most fans tend to see from the 20s was more often referred to back then as juke music, and a variety of other names, and had a more rural and rougher image.

In fact much of that music was definitely at odds with the mainstream Afro-American church, which often referred to it as devil's music. It wasn't that they sang about the devil, but the various topics such as drinking, sex (both conventional and alternative), and violence were simply considered sinful material.

A lot of the song lyrics from back then seem tame now, but terms like Jellyroll, rocking, boogie, and other now mainstream music terms were about raw raunchy sex. Even the song "Spoonful"had a different meaning back then and in the 50s.

So when Robert Johnson sang about having a Hellhound on his trail, it wasn't necessarily about the rock 'n roll lifestyle being deadly, he was also referring to the fact that the mainstream church considered him somebody who was going to hell, and lyrics also about the probable conflict he felt about living the life that he loved, and the possible spiritual penalty for it.

But the 20 wasn't all about guilt. It was also a very exciting time for black music. It was a time when all the black performers were true stars, and many made a good deal of money in 20's terms.

It was a time when it seem like the music was everywhere, and records brought that music the places that would have normally had a chance to hear it.

For example, one artist named Blind Lemon Jefferson, was a big star in his era, but is a relatively obscure bluesman now. He's now known as a bluesman who died broke, with his most famous song being one that begs people to keep his grave clean.

The concept of copyrights also makes the modern view of the era seem like it was full of ripoffs and exploited musicians. Again, there's a lot of truth to that.

The main reason was back then there was no concept of copyright publishing in the way that we know it now. In the 20s a performer was paid per side that he produced, and was paid upfront. He rarely got any royalties from it, but to be fair the recording industry back then wasn't thinking that far ahead. Plus they paid on the spot, you at least got what was promised, unlike later eras.

That's one reason why when you're looking over the discography of a particular blues musician back then, there's so many songs that are actually pretty similar. When you're being paid per side, it was common practice to change some words and come out with a new version with a different title.

Again, that wasn't some weird practice back then unique to the 20s. In the 50s and 60s, it was almost gospel that if you had a hit, your follow-up needed to be similar.

What you had in the 20s was this vast assortment of music being produced by Afro-Americans, and It covered the spectrum from G rated to X-rated, from old-fashioned string band music dance, to tap dancing accompanied by jazz music as complex as any that was made later on.

Before the 20s the primary Afro-American rural instruments were the banjo and fiddle, and ragtime was King. That died out in the 20s, particularly with the advent of inexpensive catalog guitars. It was neither good or bad, it was just Music changing as it always does.

The key thing that made that age special was that the blues and jazz had a huge black audience, it was their mainstream music. That's why some historians called it a golden age for Blues.

There's no point in trying to analyze how the term Blues came about, it's actually quite complex and there's different ideas about how it happened. It was originally primarily a jazz term for any music that use the scale that had a flatted third and seventh note. The idea that it was some sort of music of despair or sadness was an idea that came later on. Back then a Blues was just as likely to be an up-tempo dance number.

The 50 Chicago scene was also a vibrant one, with artist like Muddy Waters howling Wolf. It's peak was probably when it went electric, technology often changes music as often as attitudes, but it was primarily a club scene like jazz had become. It was often featured on TV of course, but you really rarely saw it at shows like at the Apollo theater.

One reason that the Blues was a club scene by then, was that the mainstream black audience had moved on to early R&B and soul, and popular. That was sometimes referred to as blacks ignoring their past and culture, but moving onto the next big thing is something audiences in all genres have always done and still do.

The thing that really saved the blues wasn't just the 60s folk revival, which focused on a more narrow aspect of the blues, but the fact that the English and other European countries discovered it and embraced it, and fused it into rock.

Musicians like Muddy Waters and Charlie Parker did most of their work in clubs in America, but often played in concert halls in Europe and were revered as stars and important figures in the history of music.

The rest of the story is well known and documented, blues bands were among the groups that came over with the English invasion, etc.

So the Blues now is actually fairly popular in America still, but the audience is primarily white, and that's frankly neither here or there. The banjo was discarded by Afro-American culture in the 20s, but is a staple in bluegrass music today. Things just change.

But that's why when are my favorite era for black music was the 20s. The people recording back then all felt a sense of newness, and since the recording was direct to disc, you had to be very good to make it in the recording scene. To me the quality of the music from the 20s is very high, and the musicianship as good as any that came afterwards.

Everyone who plays or listens to music has their heroes and artists they hold particularly special. My Hall of Fame has names like Blind Blake, Charley Patton, and Bukka White who did some very special things in the 20s, and they still sound special today.

So what is The Delta Snake?

The simple answer is that's simply a blog. The reason the title is somewhat vague, and seems to leave the subject matter open, is that I intend to do it as sort of a "magazine in sequence."

 In my old Delta Smake publication, it was organized pretty much like any other magazine publication. It had discreet sections, for reviews, articles, that sort of thing.

After a great deal of thought (actually not really) I decided to just simply do the contents of a magazine in order as those come up in my stream of consciousness. I considered doing it as a webpage again, but decided not to.

The main reason is that the Delta Snake Blues Newd finally ended up as a webpage, and early HTML programming made organizing the page a constant time wasting pain in the ass. Particularly when I first started working in columns, and finally made the mistake of attempting to link sound files as a sort of sound magazine.

So when you look at the string of blogs a month from now, you'll be able to visualize it as a sort of magazine, except that in your mental picture you can put everything anywhere you like.

My last writing gig was reviewing Instruments for Epinions, and it was a very successful tenure. I became one of the top music instrument writers and accumulated almost 270,000 visits. Which I doubt will happen here, but the nice thing about this blog is I'll be able to review guitars and instruments that I feel like writing about.

About the only thing I'll probably avoid is books, which would require me to actually read them, and ponder all sorts of technical points that I'm not really qualified to judge unless it's a military history book.

I'll probably move the material that I've been putting into the Facebook band page, for Handa-McGraw and The Internationals and Boogie Underground, but as separate items. To be honest I haven't really decided yet, it might be better to put them in a separate blog.

 As far as how the blog is written, I intend to do it by dictating it all into my iPhone... I had toyed with the idea of doing it Jack Kerouac style in a continuous stream with no editing. That idea died pretty quickly as I figured all I would get is a constant stream of trolls criticizing my spelling. It doesn't take much on the Internet to get a bunch of people chewing on your butt.

One nice thing about simply dictating one's thoughts as they come up is that when you're discussing a subject like the blues, there's a lot of good and bad research on that subject. Some of the scholarship is excellent, and there's a lot of notions that would easily qualify as fairytales. Getting into the scholarship of the subject would run me into his many different opinions and interests as a political party trying to create its platform for a convention.

The idea of music and fairy tales is a pretty involved subject. There's a lot of myths and romantic notions about how music is discovered and brought to the public, and even more so with Blues.

That particular blog entry is still percolating in my brain, but will be definitely the subject of a future entry.

But right now I'm just sort of warming up, just getting back into writing again on a sort of schedule, and I figure in about a month, the content should rise to the level of being interesting.