![]() ![]() He studied music at Boston University before moving to Los Angeles with guitarist John Fahey. Wilson also helped Son House re-learn his own songs after years away from music. His falsetto vocal style was directly influenced by Skip James. The Massachusetts born Wilson became a musician, and specifically a serious blues enthusiast and student, at a young age. In the weeks and months following his passing, the bad news kept coming. Canned Heat co-founder, guitarist, harmonica virtuoso, and singer Alan “Blind Owl” Wilson was a casualty of the times. Drugs of choice had become more dangerous, and some folks weren’t equipped to handle it in the long term. Fatigue had set in due to the ongoing mess in Vietnam, riots at home, Kent State, etc. The great music played on, but all was not well. Beginning with the death of Brian Jones in July of 1969, followed by the darkness of the Manson murders the following month and Altamont in December of that year, the positive vibes of the Peace & Love movement had taken a major hit. But with that yin comes the inevitable yang. There’s a great deal of joy for me in the music I celebrate on this blog, and generally that’s where I prefer to focus my attention. If it’s been a while or you’re unfamiliar with this album, grab a beverage of choice some Friday evening after work and crank it up. Hooker ‘n Heat helped introduce JLH to a new audience as well as to begin to benefit financially from some of the great music he’d written but not been given songwriting credit for as a result of bad deals early on. ![]() The final five songs include all of Canned Heat (sans Hite), and the results are as loose as might be expected. Along with American contemporaries such as Paul Butterfield and Mike Bloomfield, Wilson incorporated their influence into the music of the Woodstock Era just as Brian Jones, John Mayall and a well-documented number of other Brits did a few years earlier during the height of the British Invasion. It’s fitting that this was Wilson’s final album considering his reverence for the original bluesmen. Tracks seven through twelve are Hooker accompanied by Alan Wilson on various instruments. The studio chatter between tracks adds to the intimate, in-the-moment feel. This of course makes sense because that’s also how Canned Heat’s studio albums sound – live. It sounds like I’m in an empty barroom with him in 1970. It’s much more powerful than his early recordings, which alone doesn’t necessarily make it better than his music from the late 1940’s up to the 1960’s, just different. The main difference to my ears is the sound itself. The first six tracks feature Hooker and his guitar unaccompanied, and it’s vintage John Lee Hooker. It doesn’t sound forced, which is due in part to the length of the album. ![]() To me, Hooker ‘n Heat is a perfect combination of styles. All the songs but one were written or co-written by Hooker, who is also the only featured vocalist. Canned Heat vocalist Bob Hite is credited as a producer and is present with the band on the cover, though he did not sing on the album. His photo hangs on the wall behind the band on the album jacket. Hooker ‘n Heat, released 50 years ago today, was the final Canned Heat recording to feature harmonica player, guitarist, and songwriter Alan “Blind Owl” Wilson, who died the previous September between the album’s recording in May 1970 and its unveiling. Twenty years prior, he teamed up with the classic Canned Heat lineup for one of the great joint efforts in the blues. But that wasn’t Hooker’s first collaboration. Subsequently I heard some of his classic recordings and was able to understand why The Healer made sense. I don’t remember what made me buy it – I’d probably heard the outstanding title track with Santana – but I certainly wasn’t familiar with Hooker’s music (I plead being a teenager at the time). The first collaboration album I recall owning is John Lee Hooker’s 1989 album The Healer, which includes the likes of Bonnie Raitt, Carlos Santana, Charlie Musselwhite, and surviving members of Canned Heat, among others. Some have been quite commercially successful, while others seem rather unnecessary. The past thirty or so years have brought us so many collaboration albums, they’ve almost become passé. 1/15/71: John Lee Hooker & Canned Heat – Hooker ‘n Heat ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |