Monday, February 15, 2010
The Last Book I Read
I've been a fan of Doug Sahm's music for thirty years, and for much of that time felt like I was about the only person who even knew who he was, since you rarely saw him mentioned in the standard histories of rock and roll. But Sahm, recording and performing under his own name or that of his bands the Sir Douglas Quintet and Texas Tornados (among others) had a long career that was heavy in terms of influencing others if only intermittently successful in commercial terms (I believe his biggest hit was his first way back in 1965: "She's About a Mover" with the Quintet). Eventually, with the rise of the alt.country genre, he started to get a bit more recognition as a progenitor of the kind of rootsy country rock style that others like Steve Earle, Uncle Tupelo, and Jason and the Scorchers were updating for a contemporary audience. But Sahm's style transcended that label, as over the years he also evinced strong affinities for the blues, r&b, cajun, Tex-Mex, hard country, jazz, and even, if less convincingly, hard rock. When Sahm passed away in 1999, although he was only 58, he had a musical resume that stretched back to the early fifties (as "Little Doug"), and a discography as eclectic as any recording artist of that period. Jan Reid's biography (written with Sahm's son Shawn) nonetheless was a surprise to see, since so much of his subject's career seemed to unfold on the margins of the popular music scene. Reid does a fine job of excavating and explaining just how Sahm was an important figure, despite his relative lack of attention or credit. The book is especially strong on Sahm's late sixties sojourn in northern California during the booming days of the San Francisco sound and his mid to late seventies role in shaping the music scene in Austin, which today is a major center for developing talent comparable to almost anywhere else in the country. From this account, it's clear that Sahm was an inveterate mover, never staying too long in one place, and while Reid chronicles the impact that had on his personal life, the focus generally remains on how that factored into the music he produced, contributing flavors to his ever-simmering musical stew. There are some shortcomings to the book, such as some occasionally spotty chronology and the short shrift given to a couple periods that I was rather curious about (such as Sahm and the Quintet's late eighties Scandinavian residency). This is a subjective point, but I also wish he had spent more space discussing some of my favorite albums like Together After Five and Border Wave. Also, given the length of his career, and the incredible number of folks that Sahm worked with over that period, it seems like personal reminisces of friends and colleagues are pretty sparse, aside from the contributions of his son. Especially surprising is the relative dearth of comments from Augie Meyers, who played with Sahm pretty consistently over the years. Maybe there's a reason for this, but it isn't made clear by Reid, and the few contributions by such folks makes one suspect that there could've been much more. But, considering that I never expected to see any full-length biography on Sahm, especially one so consistently strong on placing him into his proper historical context, those are ultimately minor quibbles. I'm not sure that someone who wasn't a fan before reading the book would enjoy it as much as I did, but I think Sahm comes across as such an interesting and influential character that you'd likely be compelled to seek out some of his recordings once you got through it-- and, believe me, that alone would make the exercise worthwhile.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment