This Pulse tune is featured tonight in the first episode of the AMC series Lucky Hank. The track is all Peter, with the exception of the high harmony, which is me. It was originally recorded for the second Pulse album.
Tag Archives: ’60s rock
The Flash – Another Woman
My song Another Woman from the Pulse album appeared in Season 7, episode 6 of the CW series The Flash during 2021. Short but sweet.
The Best of ’60s Blues-Rock
Pulse: Too Much Lovin’
Rough Edges for a Smooth Acoustic Guitarist
Peter Neri is a storyteller. He tells his tales with his acoustic guitar.
He’s an impressionist. His music evokes emotions and thoughts that are indicated by the mood of each of his solo guitar pieces. The mood is tied to the titles of each of the nine tracks on Neri’s latest album release Rough Edges, his first since 2002.
On Rough Edges, Neri takes the listener on short journeys through places that conjure every thing from a drippy faucet to the expanse of a cruise down the Amazon to a hot rod running on moonshine that is probably running moonshine in the dark hills and valleys of West Virginia. It’s achieved by virtuoso performances that put all of Neri’s talents on display from single string, partial chording and finger-style to Neri’s own self-described slam-punk finger-style.
He continually shows his adeptness at establishing a main theme and then interjecting adjacent passages that enhance the piece and carry the listener to the further reaches of his imagination.
Neri says he is more interested in “capturing the energy needed to express the nature of the song rather than trying for technically pristine takes.” Don’t worry there is abundant technique on display and the emotionally charged performances never sacrifice virtuoso ability for spontaneity. It’s all here.
The title track isn’t exactly chicken pickin’ but more like chicken pluckin’, as Neri describes it. The pluckin’ moves the tune along at a nice pace as you picture yourself strutting in the barnyard. He then segues to a delicate reverie that suspends time before coming back to the theme. Neri slips in an alternative playing of the main theme and another quiet diversion before bringing the tune to an end. All in 2:07.
The Sad, Sad Demise of the Underwood 5 refers to the long-gone and lamented typewriter. Neri uses the sound effect of the mechanical typewriter in the intro (and outro) of the track and then sets a hurried yet even tempo as he plays through the short, packed sections of this concise composition.
Perhaps the most elegant and lovely melody, adorned with jungle sound effects, is Journey up the Amazon, during which you can easily envision lightly gliding down the expansive river, taking in its myriad delights and majestic dark shadings. The aforementioned track with the leaky faucet, Faucet Still Dripping, moves at the pace of a plip-plop, drip-drop of that stubborn fixture and Celtic Vision lets you imagine dancers running through their steps to a lilting Irish-flavored melody.
The Question?, with its Latin leanings, and The Answer!, finger-picking balladry, seem perfectly fitted for two parts of a whole but each stands on its own as an individual statement, and Sneaky Pete illustrates Neri’s penchant for interjecting various quiet passages to his main themes.
The CD ends with Moonshine in the Gas Tank, a high powered slide guitar workout that envelops the listener in blues-oriented phrases and an adeptly executed country blues-rock feel.
In all, Neri returns with another volume of impressionist musical stories, along with previous releases Night Visions and Dreaming of Home, that carry you along on another glorious trip through the workings of a singular talent.
It’s available on CD at CDBaby or www.peterneriguitar.com/contact. Streaming versions of the album are on CDBaby, Spotify, Apple iTunes, Amazon, Deezer and many others streaming services.
Peter hosts a radio program, One Guitar, on WFVR 96.5 FM from Royalton, Vermont, where you can stream it (https://www.royaltonradio.org/) Tuesdays at 2 p.m. He spins some of the world’s best solo acoustic guitar music. The show will also begin airing on Blues and Roots radio (https://www.bluesandrootsradio.com/homepage) on Tuesday, July 30 at 8 p.m.
Pulse album remastered with bonus tracks
The Pulse album has been released at CDBaby.com, remastered with six bonus tracks and new cover art. The bonus tracks were intended for the group’s second album. Enjoy!
Pulse: Two Unreleased
The two tunes below were intended for the second Pulse album, Reach For The Sun, which never saw the light of day.
Both were written while the original six-piece band was together but weren’t arranged and recorded until 1969 during the transition period to a four-piece group that included second guitarist Harvey Thurott along with Beau Segal, Paul Rosano and Peter Neri.
Sometime Sunshine was the only tune on which Peter and I collaborated in Pulse. Peter wrote the main part of the song in late 1968, during a hiatus from the band for several months. When he came back in late ’68/early ’69 he had written a plethora of outstanding tunes that included Too Much Lovin’ (the Pulse album opener), Hypnotized, Garden Of Love and Days Of My Life (another unreleased gem), among others.
Sometime Sunshine was one of the band’s favorites of these tunes but Peter had no bridge for it. In early 1969 I had a song fragment that I believed would work in the middle of the tune. We tried it and somehow we made it happen in that little rehearsal shed at the back of the parking lot at Syncron Studios, our home base.
The song also became a showcase for the contrasting guitar tones and styles of Peter (Guild) and Harvey (Strat) as you can hear in the middle section call and answers between the two. And it was one of the highlights of the four-piece band’s live set.
Peter sang the middle section and I joined him in unison and harmony, one of my first recorded vocals.
The other tune, Heaven Help Me was one of my early compositions. At that time, I couldn’t pull off the opening acoustic and voice section of the tune so I taught the melody and changes to Peter, who developed the fingering style acoustic part and sang the melody exactly as I wanted it. I always thought that was amazing.
I sing the middle section, which still included Richie Bednarczyk on Steinway Grand, which attests to this being recorded during the transition, and Peter and I sing in unison mostly on the third section, which concludes the 7-minute tune.
An interesting side note on this song:
A license to use the song in a film by a Yale student was granted for an undisclosed (by my manager) sum of money. In fact, I didn’t even hear about this until weeks later when one of my fellow band mates mentioned it. When I went into the office of my manager/producer/publisher, he looked sheepishly at me, feigning disbelief that I didn’t know. He wouldn’t tell me for what the granting of the song’s rights were sold. Eventually, I was handed a check for $100, not an insignificant sum in the late ’60s, but for some reason I always felt it wasn’t commensurate with what it should have been.
One of the things that made me feel this was that when my manager’s accountant handed me the check he smirked and sarcastically remarked that I didn’t deserve to receive that much! Ah, the music business. Yet another familiar tale.
Anyways, I always liked both of these tunes and they were an indicator of where the band was headed. Unfortunately, this version of Pulse was no more after December of 1970. That then led to the New York-based Island.
Pulse: Thanks For Thinking Of Me …
Thanks For Thinking Of Me But It’s Alright is the closing track of Side 1 from the self-titled Pulse album from 1969. After it was written and we arranged it in late 1968, it was also almost always Pulse’s opening tune in concert.
The group Pulse was based in New Haven, Connecticut, more specifically Wallingford at Syncron Studios soon to become Trod Nossel, which is still operating, and managed and produced by Doc Cavalier. The first version of the band was a six-piece. We started rehearsing in January, 1968 and were together until almost mid-1970. There was a four-piece group for the remainder of 1970.
The personnel: Carl Donnell (Augusto), vocals, guitar; Peter Neri, lead guitar, vocals; Beau Segal, drums; Paul Rosano, bass, background vocals; Jeff Potter, harp, percussion; Rich Bednarzcyk, keyboards.
The album was recorded in 1968 and early 1969, this track as stated probably late ’68. It was written by our drummer Beau Segal. We were huge fans of the Butterfield Blues Band, one of our main influences at the time, and we had seen them a number of times at the Cafe Au Go Go in New York and the Psychedelic Supermarket in Boston as well as the Oakdale Theatre in Wallingford.
Beau has said he took the lead line from a Butterfield tune he heard live. I know the one. Actually he embellished it a bit. If you listen to a live version of the tune by Butter it doesn’t have the chromatic ascent or the closing phrase that bounces off a minor third. And in fact, it’s not a Butterfield composition.
Butter was covering a Little Walter tune. Everything’s Gonna To Be Alright (1959). Butter’s version changed several times over the years. The only studio track I’ve heard is from an early session on the Original Lost Elecktra Sessions, which pre-dates the first Butterfield Band album.
It didn’t start with Little Walter either. The line was used by Elmore James in his Dust My Blues from 1955 as his closing solo. There are probably other examples from that time frame.
If you dig deeper you’ll hear the line as a part of the vocal melody on the bridge of Robert Johnson’s Kind Hearted Woman Blues, and the line is the basis for the main melody in Johnson’s Sweet Home Chicago. Wonder where he heard it if he didn’t originate it himself.
This stuff is fascinating, the Blues tradition. It’s reminiscent of the folk tradition in which entire chord structures and melodies of existing tunes were continually updated with new lyrics, particularly in the ’50s and early ’60s.
Going forward, it pops up in a number of other unusual places. In 1970, Atco Records released Live Cream, which included a studio outtake Lawdy Mama. The original Cream version of this song was a shuffle and included the same lead line. The outtake on Live Cream sees the track changed to a straight rock feel with the line still used but stretched out a bit.
However, many of us have heard this line hundreds of times on a slightly different track. The group ditched the Lawdy Mama version of the song when Felix Pappalardi was brought in to produce and his wife, Gail Evans, wrote new lyrics creating the tune Strange Brew. I never recognized the similarity until I heard the shuffle version of Lawdy Mama by Cream on a grey market item.
Eric Clapton would use the line again to good effect in his outstanding version of Sweet Home Chicago on the Sessions For Robert J album (2004). And so it goes.
The Butterfield Band was and remains one of my favorite groups of all-time and is sorely underappreciated. Thanks For Thinking Of Me was our tip of the hat to them, one of our major influences.
Joe Bonamassa at Symphony Hall
The last time we had seen Joe Bonamassa was about five years ago in New London, Conn., at the Garde Arts Center with Sam Bush and his band playing in support of the young blues master. A lot has transpired since then.
Bonamassa can fill a much larger venue now because of his relentless touring of the States and Europe and issuing one, if not, two albums a year. His special blend of blues-oriented rock also routinely jumps to the top of the Blues charts on release and deservedly so.
Bonamassa was in Springfield, Mass., Tuesday at Symphony Hall, a concert hall evidently not built for rock, but was suitable nonetheless as the sound was outstanding during the two-hour-plus show with only Bonamassa and his band of bassist Carmen Rojas, keyboardist Rick Melick and drummer Tal Bergman playing, no opening act. Continue reading Joe Bonamassa at Symphony Hall
Early gems from the quiet Beatle
Tucked away in the Blu-Ray/DVD Deluxe Edition of Martin Scorcese’s Living In The Material World, a biopic on Beatle George Harrison, is a 10-track CD made up of acoustic renderings and some early takes of Harrison songs, some of which run through the feature film.
The collection has also been released as a single CD or on vinyl, and is appropriately titled Early Takes Volume 1. The 1 teases at possible subsequent releases in what is presumed to be a series. That’s not guaranteed but has been indicated by Harrison’s widow, Olivia.
This set is nothing short of wonderful. A nice glimpse into George’s world, where he is in the early stages of getting songs down on tape, either purely with acoustic guitar and vocal or with a small backing band. Some of these tunes are so familiar to the Harrison fan that the many instrumental parts we’re all familiar with on songs such as My Sweet Lord, Awaiting On You All and All Things Must Pass, for instance, run through your mind in the background even while listening to the demo versions.
But it’s nice to hear the songs in their raw state. The listener gets a greater appreciation for the singer and the song. And in some cases those bombastic Phil Spector-produced tracks are improved upon in a more primal form.
There are some delightful covers as well, one of Bob Dylan’s Mama You’ve Been On My Mind and the classic early ’60s Everly Brothers ballad Let It Be Me. On Let It Be Me, Harrison delivers simple acoustic guitar accompaniment to his lead and harmony vocal tracks. One of the few times, if ever, Harrison sang a harmony part to himself on tape. The effect is beautiful on this gorgeous melody.
The only other listed musician on the album in Jonathan Clyde on mouth harp for the bluesy Harrison original Woman Don’t You Cry For Me from his solo album 33 1/3. Continue reading Early gems from the quiet Beatle