frank lee sprague. merseybeat. review by alan haber. buhdge

hot buhdge too good to pass up in a world gone mad

They're hot, alright: the latest releases by music's best. Too good to pass up in a world gone mad, they're must-gets in a world full of must-avoids. They're the cream of the crop, and we review them here.

Merseybeat Frank Lee Sprague Wichita Falls (2004) In today's sixties-influenced pop music game, songs crafted in the style of British Invasion bands, most notably the Beatles, are fairly commonplace because that's where the reigning influences are, especially for kids who came of age when it all changed, when it all became clear, as the Vinyl Kings sing on their album A Little Trip. The Vinyl Kings and Seth Swirsky and David Grahame and the Spongetones and other modern day musical prophets know what you and I also know: that the best sounds are the old sounds. But bathing one's songwriting and playing chops solely in one's influences without injecting something original, something that reflects an artist's own, singular chops, can get old really fast. It turns out that getting old is for suckers, especially while you're still young or, at least, young at heart. Frank Lee Sprague, one-half of the legendary Sprague Brothers, knows about paying homage to one's influences. He also knows, and this album is evidence, that just being able to replicate the old sounds isn't enough, so he's taken what makes him tick and a host of retro influences and blended them together for a native Texan's take on the music of his youth. It's easy enough, for a skilled musician, to worship at the Beatles' altar, but Sprague sets his sights a bit wider for an album that recasts the legend of Merseybeat as filtered through a rockabilly's heart. By taking on a sound, instead of a particular group, Sprague has made legitimate a new genre: the tribute to a particular sound. You can just see Sprague back in the day, playing in the Liverpool and London clubs, exciting audiences with his authentic stabs of early-to-mid-sixties-influenced, beat-driven songs like "My Luck is Bound to Change," the hand-clapping, harmonica-ized masterpiece, "Nineteen," and the raucous cover of Little Richard's "She's Got It," with not a little bit of Fab flowing through its veins. Shunning the urge to put a slick sheen on the proceedings, Sprague takes a basic guitar-bass-drums approach, serving the songs with just enough color to make each note count. I'm going to resist the temptation to name check the obvious influences Sprague wears on his sleeve here; some of the fun of this thing is to spot them, and you will, so I won't spoil your fun. But I will say that Sprague wears them well, filtering them through his vision and making the whole shebang his own. I love the nod to the softer side of Merseybeat, particularly in songs like "So Far From My Heart" and "Without You, I Do," that are performed with grace and melodic glee. And I'm all over Spragues Merseybeat-ized version of Gary Lewis and the Playboys' "This Diamond Ring," recast here as "Her Diamond Ring." What a great idea, and how wonderfully executed it is. It's rare these days for an album to work on multiple emotional levels, but Sprague makes it happen, delivering a record that lives in the present even as it remembers the past. Perhaps that makes this a record for the future. It certainly makes it a record, a great record, for right now. Alan Haber February 19, 2005
alan haber's pure pop buhdgeblog hot buhdge \| pop buhdge \| buhdge remembers television buhdge \| film buhdge \| books buhdge video buhdge \| buhdge fine print \| links about buhdge \| write for buhdge \| contact home (c) 2004 Alan Haber

Merseybeat
Frank Lee Sprague
Wichita Falls (2004)

frank lee sprague's merseybeat In today's sixties-influenced pop music game, songs crafted in the style of British Invasion bands, most notably the Beatles, are fairly commonplace because that's where the reigning influences are, especially for kids who came of age when it all changed, when it all became clear, as the Vinyl Kings sing on their album A Little Trip. The Vinyl Kings and Seth Swirsky and David Grahame and the Spongetones and other modern day musical prophets know what you and I also know: that the best sounds are the old sounds.

But bathing one's songwriting and playing chops solely in one's influences without injecting something original, something that reflects an artist's own, singular chops, can get old really fast. It turns out that getting old is for suckers, especially while you're still young or, at least, young at heart.

Frank Lee Sprague, one-half of the legendary Sprague Brothers, knows about paying homage to one's influences. He also knows, and this album is evidence, that just being able to replicate the old sounds isn't enough, so he's taken what makes him tick and a host of retro influences and blended them together for a native Texan's take on the music of his youth.

It's easy enough, for a skilled musician, to worship at the Beatles' altar, but Sprague sets his sights a bit wider for an album that recasts the legend of Merseybeat as filtered through a rockabilly's heart. By taking on a sound, instead of a particular group, Sprague has made legitimate a new genre: the tribute to a particular sound.

You can just see Sprague back in the day, playing in the Liverpool and London clubs, exciting audiences with his authentic stabs of early-to-mid-sixties-influenced, beat-driven songs like "My Luck is Bound to Change," the hand-clapping, harmonica-ized masterpiece, "Nineteen," and the raucous cover of Little Richard's "She's Got It," with not a little bit of Fab flowing through its veins. Shunning the urge to put a slick sheen on the proceedings, Sprague takes a basic guitar-bass-drums approach, serving the songs with just enough color to make each note count.

I'm going to resist the temptation to name check the obvious influences Sprague wears on his sleeve here; some of the fun of this thing is to spot them, and you will, so I won't spoil your fun. But I will say that Sprague wears them well, filtering them through his vision and making the whole shebang his own.

I love the nod to the softer side of Merseybeat, particularly in songs like "So Far From My Heart" and "Without You, I Do," that are performed with grace and melodic glee. And I'm all over Spragues Merseybeat-ized version of Gary Lewis and the Playboys' "This Diamond Ring," recast here as "Her Diamond Ring." What a great idea, and how wonderfully executed it is.

It's rare these days for an album to work on multiple emotional levels, but Sprague makes it happen, delivering a record that lives in the present even as it remembers the past. Perhaps that makes this a record for the future. It certainly makes it a record, a great record, for right now.

Alan Haber
February 19, 2005