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By CHARLES BERMANT
cybermant@gmail.com
In 1970, a teenaged bassist named Terry Wilson slipped into a Pasadena, TX club to check out a local band and "was blown away by this tall skinny kid with buck teeth, who had a Farfisa organ set on top of his piano. He had to reach up to play the organ, and he sang a great version of ‘Funny How Time Slips Away.' It was amazing.”
There were quite a few aspiring players out that night, and most of them presumably segued into normal lives. But Wilson and the piano player, a kid named John "Rabbit" Bundrick, moved around and kept in touch, recording and performing with the famous and the famouser, until they were backing up the people from the LPs they bought when they were kids.
This month, Wilson propelled Eric Burdon's latest litter of Animals through an energized set in a Tacoma, WA casino, while Bundrick pounded keys for the Who during the Super Bowl halftime show.
Wilson and Bundrick are the equivalent of kids who used to hang around a professional sports stadium, and now play for the team. They belong to an ever-expanding circle of "ringers," musicians who hook up with veteran performers to present stage versions of songs that were popular long ago. Ringers are a necessary part of the music ecosystem, since the surviving original members of any group can't play together, if they ever could. Back then, attitude was more important that aptitude. Today, the sound needs to recall the golden days, or improve them.
Which Burdon and his menagerie accomplish, absolutely. "Eric hasn't gotten his due," Wilson said. "He deserves to be as appreciated as Paul McCartney and Mick Jagger. He has always known how to find the best songs and how to sing him. And what he and Jagger brought to the table, putting American blues into rock and roll, was astounding. "He still amazes me," Wilson said of Burdon. "He has an anarchist's glint in his eye. And he knows how to have fun."
For the rest of the story go to Sonicbooners.
One Response to A Burdon hand
Nice piece, Charlie. Thanks for bringing us all up-to-date on Eric Burdon’s doings, and for recognizing the intense soul he’s maintained in his music for nearly fifty years now. I’m still trying to get my head around Burdon’s addition of Gary Brooker (a kinder, gentler Alan Price?) and John Cale(!) to his list of the ’60s acts whose music has lasted the best. I’ve learned over many moons of Burdon fandom not to be too surprised by anything he comes up with, but the concept of him digging John Cale is a real mind-boggler. Lou Reed should be so lucky . . .