Adopt This Bootleg: James Booker at Montreux, 1978

James Booker at Montreux 1978 Album CoverNew Orleans has a long history of producing musical talent, especially on the keyboard: Professor Longhair, Dr. John, Art Neville and even current American Idol judge Harry Connick, Jr.

It also produced one of the greatest talents in American music, someone who succumbed to excess, drugs and mental illness, a man I’m willing to bet you’ve never heard of: James Booker. But you’ve certainly heard of some of his fans: Booker played with everyone from previously mentioned Dr. John to Jerry Garcia to Ringo Starr, not to mention dozens of uncredited appearances.

It’s even more stunning when you keep in mind that Booker was a troubled man and hard to work with. He struggled with drug abuse (particularly heroin) and served time in the infamous Angola prison. Even at the best of times, he was unpredictable: it’s said he once went on tour wearing a giant wig stuffed with pot. Here’s how John Kahn, bassist in the Jerry Garcia Band, explained him to journalist Blair Jackson:

“He could still play great. He could switch between piano and organ really easily and it would sound amazing. But he was out of his mind. He was watching cars go by and was checking out license plates and talking about the CIA…”

Indeed, he lasted all of two nights with the Jerry Garcia Band. Not only because was he was unstable, but because he was a force to be reckoned with on-stage: he played his own music at such a speed it was hard for everyone to keep up. The surviving tape of one of those nights is a fascinating listen: Booker’s piano dominates everything, giving the impression of Garcia and the band just trying to keep pace.  Even armed with only a piano, Booker was a musical force to be reckoned with.

 

In concert tapes like these, Booker’s genius really shines. Although he recorded a handful of studio albums, they feel stale in comparison. In the studio, his music’s more polished, more restrained. Live, it was full of twists and bursts, short snatches of songs tucked between others and music played at lightning speed, so fast you don’t know what hit you. Booker’s genius didn’t just come in the songs he played; it happened between them, too.

In July 1978, Booker played two shows at the famed Montreux Jazz Festival in Switzerland. The first show, the longer of the two, was recorded professionally; there’s even parts of it on video. And it’s as good an introduction as any to the music of Booker.

Largely, it’s just Booker at a piano, which is all he needs to grab your attention. After an opening medley of two songs, Booker shouts, “Let’s get happy!” and kicks into the instrumental boogie-woogie of “Pixie”, playing at lightning speed. And he’s just warming up!

 

Things kick into gear with a medley of two Beatles tunes, attached to one of his originals. He goes between “Penny Lane” and “I Saw Her Standing There” so easily you’d think he wrote them. The difference in feeling is stunning, too: “Penny Lane” is sweeping, nearly orchestral;” I Saw Her…” is straight up blues boogie with him shouting and stretching out the lyrics with joyful abandon. Then, without warning, he goes into “One Hell of A Nerve”.

A full band joins in a couple of songs later, on “The Long Last Laugh”, taking some of the weight off Booker, even if they sound like they’re having a hard time keeping up with him at times.

 

Everything clicks on “Junco Partner”, a New Orleans standard about Angola prison. While it’s been covered by everyone from Dr. John to The Clash, it’s not hard to think Booker understood lyrics like “six months ain’t no sentence at all, one year ain’t no time,” better than most. He’s certainly having fun anyway, shouting at the audience to speak up and peppering lines with howls and laughs. And when his piano playing kicks into overdrive after about five minutes, he just about blows his backing band into the first row.

 

James_Booker_Playing_Paino_1978The highlights keep coming: after playing a bit of “Tipitina”, another New Orleans classic, he launches into the ripping blues of “The Grass Looks Greener”, positively yelping and letting  loose, while anonymous backing band shines. Then it’s on to “Papa Was A Rascal”, where he sings about sleeping with a Russian spy, pissing off mobsters and hiding from the CIA. Booker finishes the set with “Let’s Make A Better World”, an upbeat blues number where Booker stretches out on his piano solo.

Only a few years after this gig, Booker died, sitting in a waiting room of a hospital in New Orleans. He was 43.

In the years since his death, Booker’s fame has grown a little: a scrapped album and numerous live concerts have been released commercially. And late last year, Rounder Records reissued Classified, arguably his best studio work, complete with an assortment of bonus cuts. And he’s the subject of a documentary by Lily Keber, Bayou Maharajah. If you get the chance to watch that, it’s highly recommended.

But until that comes out on DVD, I still think the one essential Booker disc is this 1978 performance. I don’t think it was ever released officially; it’s not listed on databases like Discogs and I couldn’t find it on Amazon. Maybe some day the whole set will come out, complete on DVD with remastered sound.

Until then, this tape will have to do. The whole show’s available on Youtube. Cue it up and discover this mad musical genius, the man Dr. John once called “the best black, gay, one-eyed junkie piano genius New Orleans has ever produced.”