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Shawn Amos, son of cookie mogul
Wally "Famous" Amos, grew up "in the flats of
Beverly Hills." He ironically describes his musical life
as "I was looking to be the black Bob Dylan but now I think
I'm more of a white Marvin Gaye."
Listening to his wonderfully emotive album "Harlem,"
I'd say he's more like Rick Danko or Robbie Robertson of The
Band than like Bob or Marvin. Working with his ace band Uncle
Tom and with former Jayhawk's front man Mark Olson and Crazy
Horse guitarist Poncho Sampedro, Amos has crafted as fine and
delicate a piece of Americana as we may ever hear. And while
the lyrical content speaks pointedly and unblinkingly to issues
of history and racism, don't expect rote ideas, simplistic answers
or commonplace stereotypes from the brainy Mr. Amos. Growing
up an affluent black child, he's seen racism and stereotyping
from all sides of the coin and makes plain in this record that
he doesn't favor one kind over another.
A graduate of the NYU Tisch School of the Arts and a producer
at Rhino Records by day, the 31 year-old Amos wrote screenplays
before taking up songwriting in 1991. He has written songs in
a number of genres: a country song for Christopher Walken's movie,
"The Prophecy;" a pop song for Ben Stiller's Disney
production, "Heavyweights;" a rocker for Janeane Garofolo's
"I Shot a Man in Vegas;" and he wrote and performed
the theme for the children's TV show "Uncle Wally's General
Store." Amos also composed and performed a piece of performance
art called "Colorblind: Songs and Stills in Black and White"
with artist/photographer Roderick Sykes. He followed up "Colorblind"
with a rock album in 1996 titled "Whitey McFearsun"
and subsequently did an acoustic singer/songwriter record called
"Be Real." But in 1998 he formed a band, Uncle Tom,
consisting of Robert Jolly on drums, Patrick Milligan on guitars
and banjo, Ben Peeler on dobro, lap steel and mandolin, and Roger
Len Smith on bass and began compiling material for what would
become "Harlem."
"Harlem" is the story, told in ten songs (all composed
by Amos except for Neil Young's 'Southern Man') of the Millers,
a family of sharecroppers, and their journey from the sharecropper
plot to Harlem. Amos has recently produced a compilation disc
for Rhino entitled "Rhapsodies in Black: Music and Words
from the Harlem Renaissance," which, along with the traveling
exhibition, Rhapsodies In Black: Art of the Harlem Renaissance,
served as an overarching influence on his songs for "Harlem."
The album begins with the lilting, deceptively gentle 'Independence
Day.' Mr. Amos and his band have a finely honed sense of Southern
pace to their music, never rushing, just letting the songs come
out very naturally. Amos has obviously done his homework well,
no doubt reading widely in the history of the period, because
even though he was raised in wealth and comfort, it is uncanny
how well he can climb inside the head of Miller, the sharecropper
looking for a better life.
It's 1921 in the record's opening scene, and Miller is picking
cotton. But Miller's back is broken and he is giving up the
sharecropping life, heading north with his wife, Mattie, part
of the great migration during the 1920's.
We're going up to the Promised Land, going up to the Promised
Land
America, just a dream to me, America don't belong to me
We're goin' up to Harlem
Miller has had enough of the promise of the South. A lifetime
has passed since the Civil War and "the southern star has
fallen by a firecracker fuse/never did believe when they told
us to our face those days were over/we're strangers in this land
still/we're strangers in this land still."
Amos even conjures up the noted African-American intellectual
and one of the leaders of the Harlem Renaissance, poet Langston
Hughes, whom Miller paraphrases in explaining his feelings: "America
has never been America to me/And yet I swear this oath/As long
as I can breathe/America will be a seed/that grows deep in the
heart of me."
While there are no weak tracks on "Harlem," 'Vicksburg'
certainly qualifies as one of the strongest. Beginning with
Amos's simple banjo licks and a sparse acoustic guitar, the sound
is very rural and antique. As the frustration of evil and injustice
build in the lyric, Amos and co-producer Patrick Milligan's voices
come together with some wonderful harmony as the intensity of
the song grows.
No hard rain,
Mule's been dead 40 days
I would die, pray I was cursed
See you burn, old Vicksburg
Land's gone dry, I am not unafraid,
I will not bow down in shame
Dig my heart in this earth
Trade my life for yours, Vicksburg
Stole my name, my daddy's land
Tied my hands, feel no pain
They don't know a good man's worth
Go to hell, old Vicksburg
Amos shows his innovative producer's skills on Neil Young's
'Southern Man.' True to his film background, Amos creates a lot
of drama with the way he has constructed this track. He begins
by sampling an old prison chant, 'Eighteen Hammers,' sung by
Johnny Lee Moore and 12 Mississippi Penitentiary convicts, complete
with clanking chains. Sampedro picks some sinister electric
guitar, and Amos keeps adding samples of the convict song at
intervals. Amos's vocal interpretation gives the song more authenticity
than Neil Young was able to give it. This is an absolutely stellar
arrangement and performance.
'Blackface' shows just how deep and penetrating a songwriter
Mr. Amos is and how anti-stereotypical his views are. The lyrics
speak for themselves.
Brother, brother won't come toward me
Not in this neighborhood
Talking peace won't do no good
Brother, brother do you hate me more
Than the folks on up the road
Brother, brother you don't own me
Though I wear my blackface too
I wear my blackface too
Amos again comes very close to The Band with the soulful and
expressive 'Mean As You.' Amos's voice strikes that Rick Danko
vibe, and the music is lazy but perfect.
I never met anyone
Who could mean so much to me
And be as mean as you
Amos describes the music on "Harlem" as "pure
hillbilly soul." 'Inside/Out' probably represents that
concept as well as any tune on the album. A laconic, mid-tempo
electric guitar-driven track with some soulful organ playing
by John Thomas, Amos gives this one an Otis Redding feel even
though the instrumental backing is not so rhythmic as most of
Redding's Stax recordings. This is more like Redding in his
'Dock of the Bay' mode. Instrumentally, this track again brings
to mind The Band. This cut is straight down the center of mainstream
Americana.
Amos shifts to straight up country on 'Vicious Circle,' where
he is joined on vocals by Mark Olson. Another fine example of
both Americana and "pure hillbilly soul," there is
some fine dobro and steel guitar playing on this lilting track
as Amos again flashes his arranger/producer brilliance.
Amos turns up the volume and the funk on 'Fire Down Below,'
but even though this is a more electrified track than most, it
still has that country/rural vibe that unifies the whole record.
This house gets cold when no is home
And supper's almost over
The road from Raleigh up to Harlem
Is filled with KK's sons and daughters
'Goin' East' is shades of Bob Dylan. The track opens with
an acoustic guitar strum and some very sad and Dylanish harmonica.
But true to the rest of the record, Amos shifts gears and the
track progresses in another Band-like arrangement, complete with
gospel piano, Dixie horns, accordion and some very subtle slide
guitar. The track comes together in rich layers, ebbing and
flowing. It represents another fine example of how Amos thinks
like a film writer when he's constructing his songs in the studio.
His vocal is exceptional.
The finale, 'Angel in Black,' is filled with echoing, other-worldly
electric slide guitar by Jeremy Parzen. Amos sings in an understated,
purposely restrained style in projecting the dream state that
the song portrays.
Amos hasn't sought radio hits or MTV stardom with "Harlem."
In fact, that would seem to have been the farthest thing from
his mind. Like the Harlem Renaissance art exhibit that influenced
him in writing and producing "Harlem," Amos' album
is a work of art, an obvious labor of love, not a cheap commercial
ploy. "Harlem" doesn't have a "single" or
a radio hit. That would be antithetical to the purpose and to
the aesthetic. What Shawn Amos has produced is a warm, intelligent,
satisfying album of Americana. "Harlem" is one of
those records that, because of the lack of a single or a flashy
radio-friendly hit, will fool you. But give it a few listens
and you'll find that it is an album that will penetrate both
your heart and your head and lodge itself deep in your pure hillbilly
soul.
* Picassos and Monets too expensive for your pocketbook?
Trip on over to www.shawnamos.com
and buy a quiet Americana masterpiece for just $15. And you
won't have to make any nail holes in the wall to hang it.
Contact William Michael Smith at: wms-at-rockzilla.net
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