Seth Bate reviews "The Peter Stanley Collection: A Lifetime of Music"

By SETH BATE
Special to the Courier

This article appeared in the Winfield Daily Courier, May 15 2000. The newspaper is located in Winfield, Kansas.

Club 47 couldn't have been an easy room to play.

It was located at 47 Mt. Auburn, Cambridge, Mass., next door to Cahaly's Grocery. It wasn't too far from Cafe Mozart over on Grolier Street. Like Gertie's and The Iguana, the club is still legendary, and people who were born long after the doors were closed speak about it reverentially.

By 1962, the year Bob Dylan released an album, Club 47 had developed a reputation for being a "one-up" crowd. A folk DJ who lived in Boston at the time said the 47 crowd sized up each person who entered and often dismissed the new person before he or she ordered, much less took the stage. These days, Club 47 has been reincarnated as Club Passim, still an influential spot that attracts folkies for weekly open mikes.

In the first CD of his eight-volume "The Peter Stanley Collection: A Lifetime of Music" (Talkeetna Records), Peter Stanley captures an evening at Club 47 in 1960. Of the dozen or so artists who performed that night, most are forgotten. Some of the musicians never rose from the ranks of the Boston music scene, and there is no evidence that they should have. Others, including Eric von Schmidt, Jackie Washington and Jim Kweskin, sound as though they were onto something.

What will amaze people is that Joan Baez was there. She's captured here sounding both sweet on "I Never Will Marry" and fierce on "Bloody Well Dead." It's wonderful to have a glimpse of the direction Baez was heading 40 years ago.

The treasure on "Fire at Club 47" is a set of three songs by Tom Rush. It's hard to say whether Rush sounds any different now than he did when this recording was made. He clearly already understood how to preserve the grit of folk and blues while bringing a sense of musicianship to them. "Pretty Boy Floyd" maintains the emotion of a Woody Guthrie but belongs in a music hall.

Stanley himself is on this recording, turning in a nice version of Guthrie's "Pastures of Plenty." The other seven CDs in Stanley's box set combine home recordings and previously released material. In the tradition of The Weavers and the Kingston Trio, most of Stanley's material is traditional or nearly traditional. He is an adept fingerpicker and has a baritone that can sing sad ballads one minute, then spit out talking blues the next.

Fans of "raw" folk music may find that Stanley strays into Burl Ives territory too often, treating folk songs as art songs. Those who appreciate songwriting will be disappointed to know that in eight volumes of liner notes, not a single songwriter is credited. These quibbles aside, the collection is a great listen, especially for those influenced by the folk boom of the '50s and '60s.

The CDs, which span almost 40 years, are:

  • "When You & I Were Young." The most recent CD features Stanley, son Christopher and friend Judith Lang. It includes a beautiful "Sweet Baby James" and a version of "Carleton Weaver (Nancy Whiskey)" that retains some nice Irish flavor. "The Water Is Wide" drags, but hearing a carefully played, banjo-less "Dueling Guitars" makes up for it. Christopher Stanley's features, "Unwed Mothers" and "Rocky Mountain High," show off a clear voice and a more contemporary, textural approach to guitar.
  • "McKinley Called" -- This recording by Peter Stanley and Rodney Bryan commemorates Stanley's 1985 climb up Mount McKinley. This may be the recording that shows off Stanley's guitar the most. "Wildwood Flower" is especially well-picked and inventive, and the bright "Bully of the Town" sounds good. The country blues "Sitting on Top of the World" is the best track on this one.
  • "Coming Home" -- This is the result of a partnership between Stanley and Victoria Young in the early '80s. On "Bill Bailey," Stanley plays a crisp guitar intro, and the vocal harmonies have a barely restrained fierceness. "Jefferson Hotel" played by Christopher Stanley is exquisite but misplaced between "Mr. Bojangles" and "Way Out Here."
  • "Hard Times in the Country" -- A reissue of a 1974 album, this features Stanley as part of a quartet. The extra instrumentation, including fiddle, mandolin and autoharp, helps the CD stand out in the collection. The story song "Old Dogs and Children and Watermelon Wine" is particularly likable, and "Talking Hard Luck" is a breathless example of the talking blues.
  • "Cabin on the Hill" -- Maybe Stanley had access to the Alan Lomax and Harry Smith field recordings when this music was recorded, or maybe he was meeting other singers who enjoyed the style. Whatever the influence, "Woody's Rag," with its mandolin part, and the funny "Six Nights Drunk" aren't needlessly prettied up. Nor has "30.06 on the Wall" been updated to be acceptably politically correct. These songs are faithful to the American folk music tradition.
  • "At the Sidetrack." -- This is a 1965 concert taped when Stanley appeared at a coffeehouse in Raleigh, N.C. The Club doesn't have the enduring reputation of Club 47, but Stanley both pays tribute to it and shows himself in peak form with this recording. He clearly was swiping some inflections and delivery from Woody Guthrie, but who better for a '60s folkie to steal from?
  • "Greenland No More" -- In 1960, Stanley met folk fan and singer Judith "Hawk" Weston. The first song on their CD is a spirited "Wabash Cannonball," and the rest of the recording is full of songs played with enthusiasm. More a small hootenanny than a proper album, this is the release that best captures Stanley's love of sharing music.

There is no question that this collection is exhaustive and exhausting. Listening to nearly eight hours of music, much of it never intended for commercial release, is surprisingly intimate. With the exception of "Fire at Club 47," there is no CD included that stands on its own as essential music. At the same time, one can't help but have respect and fondness for a man who kept playing and learning music for the love of it while some of his contemporaries gained celebrity status.

Stanley captured the fire at Club 47, and he's been spreading it for 40 years.