Viper is an independent Liverpool label with arcane treasures like the live recording of Arthur Lee's 1992 comeback show with Shack. Their stuff is available through Amazon, if the distributors haven’t pushed it into your local dealer. (why not support your local independent music retailer?)
This very particular compilation is a set of tunes from pre-war 78s that have been collected together on a number of CDs over the years, but which you might not be able to find outside of the second-hand racks and eBay. The fullest set seems to be on 2 CDs "Viper Mad Blues: 25 Songs of Dope and Depravity" and "Reefer Songs: 23 Original Jazz and Blues Vocals" released on Jass Records in 1991.
But today, for your eight pounds of Liverpool money, without the hassle, you can get 20 first rate songs from a time when things were simpler, dirtier, and a mite less self conscious. A time when Ella Fitzgerald was just the singer with Chick Webb's Orchestra and narcotics had some serious therapeutic work to do for a people whose vicious exploitation and abuse was a mundane fact of life. Hard times scallies? Listen to these tracks and weep. And note the fluent, transcendent genius of the music too. No half-arsed guitar jangling here – if you weren't the best you didn’t get the job. End of story.
There's a pick of styles on offer, from back room piano blues, through small group proto-pop to big band dance music. Some names will be familiar: Cab Calloway, Ella Fitzgerald and Fats Waller have crossed most people's paths. Sidney Bechet, Tampa Red and Larry Adler might still be on your maps. But how about Jazz Gillum and his Jazz Boys? Or The Cats and the Fiddle? One of the many good things about this collection is that there is no dross. So much good stuff was recorded on the subject that no barrels have been scraped and no major artist embarrassments have been wheeled out to improve the look of the track listing. What’s here is all worth hearing.
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Pay close attention though. Direct or disguised, the celebration of the jazz cigarette from people old enough to be your great grandparents gives pleasure and food for thought in equal measure. The crackles and hiss soon disappear as soon as you let you brain go. Bea Foote singing "Weed" is a delicious sleaze with an unlisted sax player and bassist doing a really low-down and dirty intro. Georgia White plays some quality boogie woogie piano. The Harlem Hamfats go over to the dark side with very convincing bad trip warnings. Ella Fitzgerald gets two songs (from 1936 and 1938) and is worth every penny.
Larry Adler (you know, the harmonica guy) is the only white artist featured Unusually he's singing rather than playing the harp. His mournful blues goes: "It’s the kind of stuff that dreams are made of/It's the kind of stuff that white folks are afraid of". Which is a big part of the myth. White legislators made marijuana illegal through most US states during the 30s. But in terms of social control and continuing oppression, an outlawed Weed gave the white establishment two big pluses: a radical but non-disruptive way out for some of the articulate black talent; and a continuing legal excuse to harass all the rest. Not much change there then.
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