Album of the Week
Some roots music sub-genres seem to be steadfastly resistant to metamorphosis. Zydeco has always cruised along in its own pocket, seldom engaging in any meaningful dialog with "modernity." Despite the occasional left-field hit like Rockin' Sidney's "My Toot Toot," or the efforts of a performer like the hip-hop savvy Beau Jocque, the Louisiana style has fundamentally retained its bedrock sound, driven by button accordion and rub-board; it has sustained itself for 50 years as a popular, but largely marginalized, form of regional dance music.
Lafayette, Louisiana's Stanley Dural, Jr., better known as Buckwheat Zydeco, has been carrying the torch for his eponymous music for more than three decades. He is a disciple of Clifton Chenier, the great zydeco innovator of the ‘50s, and like Chenier he is a fine accordionist, but there's always been more to his sound. He is a gutsy pianist and organist who earned his stripes in a funk/soul band, and he functions brilliantly outside the confines of zydeco; three years ago, I saw him hold down the keyboard chair in a wonderful set by the swamp R&B guitarist Li'l Buck Sinegal at Ponderosa Stomp in Memphis.
Buckwheat has always kept an ear cocked to different strains of pop; he was for several years signed to Island Records, whose chieftain Chris Blackwell tried to break zydeco into the mainstream with a series of albums by Dural. The plan never quite worked, but some interesting music came out of the experiment. One of the best Island releases was Five Card Stud, a 1994 release produced by Steve Berlin, saxophonist-keyboardist for L.A.'s great Latino rock band Los Lobos. On that go-round, Buckwheat tried his hand at Bruce Chanel's "Hey Baby," songs by Willie Nelson and Van Morrison, and even the old gospel standard "This Train."
Alligator Records evidently thought that regrouping Dural and his former producer might ignite some lively music, and Berlin was brought in to supervise Lay Your Burden Down, Buckwheat Zydeco's label debut. The notion has paid off with a vastly entertaining and appealingly diverse package.
The album begins balls-out, with a nervy cover of "When the Levee Breaks." This 1929 number by Kansas Joe McCoy and Memphis Minnie about the devastating '27 Mississippi River flood was popularized by Led Zeppelin with a roiling version on their fourth album that became one of rock's most-sampled tracks. Buckwheat sticks with the Zep arrangement for his stormy post-Katrina rendering, but stirs some thunder of his own with a powerful keyboard underpinning and forceful soloing by the masterful Louisiana guitarist Sonny Landreth. He supplies another twist with an accordion-driven Mardi Gras double-time to carry the tune home.
There's also a heavy dose of reggae -- naturally enough, considering the Louisiana roots of the Jamaican style. Dural covers Jimmy Cliff's sprightly "Let Your Yeah Be Yeah;" more surprisingly, he offers a turned-around take on "Back in Your Arms Again," a relatively obscure Bruce Springsteen song. He moves into fairly straight-up rock territory with the gospelized boogie "The Wrong Side," written by Alligator label mate JJ Grey (who appears on the track, with Landreth again contributing some heated slide guitar) and the somber title song, which features a guest shot by its co-author, guitarist Warren Haynes of the Allman Brothers.
The big "what-the-hell-was-that?" moment comes near the end of the album, when Dural eases into a simple, light-hearted love song. It takes a moment for the stunned listener to realize that Buckwheat is covering "Too Much Time," a song originally performed by Captain Beefheart & the Magic Band on the 1972 album Clear Spot. Not one of the notoriously cacophonous Beefheart's most outré selections, it's a nutty, inspired choice that lends off-kilter sweetness to the proceedings.
The remainder of the album is bouncily standard zydeco fare, written by Dural solo or with his longtime collaborator Ted Fox. But even the least ambitious tracks, like the toss-off carnival number "Throw Me Something, Mister" or the melancholy slow-grind instrumental "Finding My Way Back Home" that closes the album, benefit from the tight, enthusiastic playing of Buckwheat's septet, which is augmented by trombonist Troy Andrews and producer Berlin on baritone sax. Bandleader Dural remains an ever-engaging vocalist and a whiz on any keyboard he touches.
So, for Buckwheat Zydeco fans, Lay Your Burden Down finds the maestro and his group near the top of their form. For listeners with less interest in the ol' accordion get-down, the collection supplies enough interesting wrinkles to get the good times rolling.
