The Blasters Bleed American Music

       Sometime in the later months of 1982, I came into possession of some cash and decided to blow it at "Sound Warehouse," a record store on Dyer Street in El Paso. 

       It was a Saturday night, and as usual, I was hanging out with teammates from the cross-country and track teams at Andress High School. My friend John, who was a pretty good third leg in the mile relay and a decent distance runner, was also the only guy I knew who had his own car---albeit an ancient, light blue station wagon that we referred to as the "Ghost" because of how perpetually close it remained to a catastrophic breakdown. Still, transportation being a valuable commodity, my friend Tony---a decent 800 meter man and an even better distance runner---and I were more than happy to push-start the "Ghost" every time John needed to "pop the clutch." I'm reasonably certain that our journey to "Sound Warehouse", on the night to which I'm referring, began in such a way.

        Once inside, we spread out and began the sublime art of browsing through racks and racks of albums. I started with the cut-out bin to see if anything had slipped through the cracks, then hit the rock albums in alphabetical order. Tony followed closely behind me. Then, about half-way through the B's, something caught our attention and we stopped in our tracks. There was something different there, between the Black Sabbath, and Blue Oyster Cult records. It was the Blasters' 1982 EP, "Over There."

        Our rock and roll world was mostly populated with long-haired, shirtless guys wearing leather pants. I know, it's hard to admit, but it's true. We listened to lots of Judas Priest, Manowar, Jefferson Starship, and Molly Hatchet, and we'd never seen anything like the Blasters.

        I picked up the record and we carefully examined the photos and track listing like archeologists with a freshly unearthed stone tablet. The cover displayed an equipment case plastered with a photo of guitarist/songwriter Dave Alvin. The photo showed Alvin in action with his guitar, crouching and in mid-strum, his pompadour offering a stark contrast to the style of the current musicians working in more commercial mediums. Alvin's style was decidedly old-school and there was just something about that fact that made my next decision inevitable. I decided that it would be worth the risk to spend my money on a Blasters EP without ever hearing them.

        As it turned out, my risky investment began to pay huge dividends as soon as I got it home and onto my turntable. Huge dividends. "Over There" by the Blasters represents the absolute beginning of my decade-long immersion in American roots-rock music.

        Brothers Dave and Phil Alvin formed the Blasters in the Los Angeles, California area in 1979. They were genuine fans of older blues, country and western, swing, and folk music and used all of these elements to craft their sound, which can only be appropriately described as "American Music." And incidentally, "American Music" was also the title of their first album.

        By 1982, they had a few studio albums under their belt and the time was right for a recording that would capture their sound at it's most ferocious---live! The band toured England and on May 22, the tape was rolling as they brought the undiluted sounds of American music to a grateful London crowd in a venue called "The Venue." The result was "Over There."

        The album starts with singer/guitarist Phil Alvin leading the band in a faithful rave through the Jerry Lee Lewis tune "High School Confidential." Even my Dad liked this version. The Blasters weren't interested in reinventing the song. They simply played it with the honest, rock-boppin' energy of the original.
After a snappy and jumpy tune called "Rock Boppin' Baby," the band cover's Little Richard's "Keep a Knockin'" and the results are satisfyingly predictable. Recordings like these are museum quality examples of what it must have sounded like in countless roadhouses on Saturday nights in the 1950's.

        Next up is a rebel song penned by Dave Alvin. It's called "I Don't Want To," and it pretty much communicates the common teenage contrarian attitude regarding the wisdom and life experience of their elders. I only wish I knew as much now as I did when I was a know-it-all teenager.

        Following a cover of Roy Orbison's "Go, Go, Go," the band closes out the record with a stomper called "Roll 'em Pete." This tune rocks in all the right places. Saxophonist Lee Allen hits notes only a veteran would know and Gene Taylor adds boogie-woogie piano. It's a powerful distillation of what's great about the music from this great land of ours.

        "Over There" is long out of print, but not to worry, all six songs are included on the excellent Blasters compilation called "Testament: The Complete Slash Recordings."

        I've been fortunate to have caught a few Blasters shows over the years. The most memorable was on March 9, 1989, at a place called the "Belly Up Tavern" in Solana Beach, California. They opened with their rousing standard, "Marie, Marie," and carried that momentum through two sets of authentic and unselfconscious American music. Dave Alvin was no longer in the band, but his replacement handled the guitar duties capably. Also, Lee Allen showed up for a few numbers, including a blistering take on the song "I'm Shakin'."

        To this day, the Blasters are still out there rockin' and rollin'. Dave Alvin left to pursue a solo career over twenty years ago, but he still rejoins the band on occasion. With or without him, Phil Alvin has kept the sound faithful and the Blasters occupy a respected place in the universe of rock and roll.

       Long live American music!
 
        Peace!