Rumblin' man

Link Wray, Cold Zipper,
RIP's opening night

by Michael Caito

Link Wray

Almost every biographical story of Link Wray contains major contradictions in times and dates, which only goes to show how much of an elusive legend the man has become. So here goes anyway . . . about 50 years ago Fred Lincoln Wray picked up an electric guitar. Up to that point, the Tarheel native had been tweedlin' along to his hi-fi heroes -- Hank Williams, Chet Atkins and somebody named Les. But it wasn't until 1958 when he recorded "Rumble" (Cadence) that popular music for the rest of the century was altered.

'Twas an evil riff. Wray had actually been requested to play a stroll at a hop in Fredericksburg, West Virginia (of local note:home of Erin McKeown). Having always played by ear, The Riff and the subsequent single sold a million-plus -- a ridiculous tally in those days -- becoming one of the first evergreens in the rock 'n' roll forest to take root.

Wray had inadvertently invented fuzz by punching pinholes in his Premier amp, and the infamous "Raw-Hide" wallowed in it in '59 on Epic. It was another huge hit, with his brothers Doug and Vernon (the Wray Men). Wray's dad built a recording studio, dubbed Wray's Shack Three Track, and the converted chicken coop became the birthing place for "Batman Theme" and "Jack the Ripper."

Wray got fed up with the industry in the '60s. Having survived tuberculosis (and the removal of one lung), the Korean War and clowns trying to make him play "Clair de Lune" with a 62-piece orchestra, he bagged the whole deal.

His re-arrival in 1971 was due to a fortuitous meeting with producer Thom Jefferson Kaye and Mike Bloomfield. It was mellower acoustic country and blues, and fans were confused, though Wray finally got overdue respect for his unique vocals. In 1983 he and his Danish wife Olive Julie moved to Denmark, and output since then has been sporadic.He's a legend in Scandinavia, and countless guitarists (including the Who's Pete Townshend, oft quoted dubbing Wray "The King") acknowledge that Link Wray started it all.

So what will we hear this weekend? Dobro? Country? Blues? "Ace of Spades"? Doesn't matter. He's a founding father. He can play whatever he wants.

Link Wray performs at the Met on Saturday with the Itchies.

MEOW. Cold Zipper have a vaguely unsettling feel, placing their folk, country and blues in a timeless vacuum like the best work of the Flying Ditchdiggers, Lovetrain and, to a lesser extent, the Schemers. To put Cat Next Door (Big Noise 16-song CD) in any sort of context you'd have to re-examine the intricacies of Juxo, Dan Lilley, and especially Mark Cutler's last record with Useful Things on Potter's Field. As is the case with those proven veterans, roots-fueled sensibilities are always at the fore, whether filtered here through the mercurial rhythm guitar and vocals of frontman Jimmy Warren or the sprawling emotional range offered by vocalist Katia Cabral. Subtlety is for the most part a strong suit, and even when the hooks don't click Cold Zipper get a point across. No arguments here against berating bottled-water consumers or calling the Klan a buncha pinheads, but one thing Zipperheads don't have is the sneaky drollery of Cutler, always meted out amid showers of hi-test melody.

And that is not a Cold Zipper dis as much as an acknowledgement of the heights Cutler has continually attained over the years. Cold Zipper have every right to brag about Cat Next Door, the first boast being that one cannot fake roots-rock. In that regard this one could be played as a lesson for all the alterna-bands trying to gain college airplay by nicking trite riffs, passing their music off as "low-fidelity" alterna-country or alterna-folk. That's dandy, and will fool a lot of people, but thankfully there are players like Warren, Cabral and lead guitarist Chris Fitzpatrick around, not to mention the original rhythm section of Neutral Nation.

Yeah, Steve Lepper (bass) and John Cote (drums) have survived banging heads on the punk rock wars in fine form, and they're what makes this record finally turn the corner. Cote and Lepper spent time in Erminio Pinque's Big Nazo troupe (speaking of drollery?), but it's Nation's edge that lingers dangerously in the bottom end of every song on Cat Next Door. They sound tremendous, their playing effortless and confident, lending flexibility and a wee bit o' danger to Cold Zipper during an expansive blues run by Fitzpatrick or a soul-singed vocal by Cabral. Add to that three strong contributions by guest guitarist Craig Howell and you have what would have been a dandy record had it clocked in four or five songs shorter. There are numerous grim patches where earnestness far outstrips tunefulness and the whole bundle collapses, but in an hour's worth of music that will happen to anyone. Overall, tension and drama -- aided by several gutsy vocal turns by Cabral and the rhythm section in general -- provide momentum to keep the teapot simmering.

Cold Zipper's release party is Thursday, October 30 at the Living Room.

CLASSICAL GAS. On Saturday at Veterans Memorial Auditorium, the Rhode Island Philharmonic's opening Glinka overture, spotlessly delivered, served as pre-game stretch for the two hefty pieces that followed. Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto # 2 showed, if nothing else, that the Philharmonic's crowd has indeed gotten younger. Longstanding (and even shortstanding) patrons know you don't applaud between movements. Throw the horse over the fence some hay, I even knew that. And so much for easing into the season with comparatively lightweight offerings. Nope, straight for the carotid, said maestro Larry Rachleff, in what seemed like an attempt to throttle all talk of a sophomore slump in one fell swoop.

If there was one thing that Opening Night did it was to serve notice that the organization intends to continually challenge the audience and itself, giving two emotionally demanding offerings in succession. The Rachmaninoff failed to fly mostly because guest pianist Jeffrey Siegel seemed so very impressed with his ivory skills that he didn't bother considering his musical accomplices, frequently darting ahead in a singularly self-absorbed rendition of Rachmaninoff's comeback concerto. It wouldn't have surprised me at all to hear him say afterwards, "Oh, were there other people up there too?" Solo recital? Sure, I'd bet he's wonderful. Performing with others? Not Saturday. Little ebb and flow, much tension and little release. "Pleased to meet me" was what Iheard.

Essaying one of Beethoven's most revered symphonies immediately after intermission became even more of a stamina test for the orchestra, given Rachleff's almost tearful pre-symphony dedication to a recently-deceased mentor. If Siegel's self-centered Rach read had knocked the Philharmonic off their feed, Rachleff's dedication unintentionally administered the figure-four leglock. What followed was an Eroica played too close to the vest, though by the climactic fourth movement the orchestra showed rekindled fire which gave indication that they sensed this caution and reacted positively. The best news is that "caution" is out of character for this still-rising orchestra and conductor. It's one thing to occasionally bid four on bare jack and make it, but that's in the past. They seemed to sense, last season, that all of a sudden they had a handful of trump cards. They accordingly waxed confident. And in four short weeks an all-orchestral program (Britten/Vaughn Williams/Elgar) will likely provide a welcome antidote to the emotionally-overcharged opening night.

WATT'S UP. Mike Watt gabs live on SonicNet tonight (10/23) before hitting the Met Wednesday with his Black Gang Crew. Rebuilt Hangar Theory open. Also tonight, funk it up with Maceo Parker at the Strand. The Call has a nifty lineup Sunday with Shed (finishing in the studio), Freakshow, Gruvis Malt (also finishing studio work), Comic Book Superheroes and more. 'Round the corner next Thursday (10/30) marks the grand opening of the spiff new Century Lounge. Halloween night (for those planning in advance) it'll be tough to beat Delta Clutch plus Kevin Mack and his full band at One Up (DC's cover of the Jacksons' "I Want You Back" at their CD release was righteous). Same All Hallow's Eve:Six Finger Satellite, A Stoveboat, Arab On Radar at the Living Room.

This Friday:V Majestic at AS. Manray then Linkwray. La. All ages Saturday at the Mist features Arson Family, Violent Anal Death and pre-punk beach brunch. Grab that newish Arson Family disc if you see it.