Old Souls, New Packages

It’s said of some that they have “old souls.” Not so much that they’re stodgy or old-fashioned (I’m not really ‘ageist’, I can’t afford to be), it’s more that they seem to be in touch with larger concepts and have a wisdom born of experience that they may not have apparently earned.

Here are three old souls who are bringing the past into the present without breaking a sweat.

BOOKER T. JONES should need no introduction. He fronted his own killer band in the ’60s, Booker T. and the MG’s (“Green Onions” and “Hip Hug Her”), and played B-3 organ on countless Stax-Volt R&B hits when that label was king. He made a comeback a couple of years ago with Potato Hole, a rip-snorting rock record. His backing band there was The Drive-By Truckers plus Neil Young(!).

His brand new record is THE ROAD FROM MEMPHIS. This time it’s The Roots, the first-call backing band of now, who provide the way funkier backdrop to Jones’ beefy Hammond. Produced by the Dap Kings’ Gabriel Roth, the CD’s got plenty of extra support in the form of guest vocalists and instrumental ringers. But Jones and his organ never let you forget who’s in charge.

Things get off to a rousing start with “Walking Papers,” with its strutting pace offset by wah-wah guitar and cowbell. And, so I can just get it out of the way, ?uestlove drums like a fiend here and on every single cut on the record. Bassist Leon Hubbard lays down some absolutely inspired lines to compliment the skin work. But it’s Jones who sounds energized, cutting in, around, over and through the groove to make his points.

Other standout cuts include the Rascals-like “Progress,” with My Morning Jacket’s Jim James doing his soul man vocal turn to perfection; “The Hive,” featuring a ditch-dirty nasty drum and bass line and Jones’ stuttering and then exultant phrasing; “Down In Memphis,” with its way down vibe and Jones’ revelatory vocals; and “Rent Party,” an aptly-named head-bobber and hip-shaker.

But there’s not a bad one in the bunch, not even Jones’ mandatory cheesy cover, here “Crazy” (Gnarls Barkley’s, not Willie Nelson’s). And certainly not “Representing Memphis,” an almost tourist commission ode to the city saved by its swaying tempo and simpatico duet by Sharon Jones and The National’s Matt Berninger.

If you can, spring for the deluxe edition, which provides two more dead-on instrumentals and a goofy version of the already silly Biz Markie’s “Just a Friend,” rendered almost noble by Jones’ embellishments.

DENNIS COFFEY should need an introduction. He’s 70 years old and played guitar with the esteemed Funk Brothers (Motown’s house band) and Parliament/Funkadelic back in the day. He’s put out a couple of obscure solo efforts over the years and done some session work, including the Booker T. album just spoken of above. Now he’s got a brand new self-titled album and it’s a keeper. Detroit-made, it’s infused with that town’s grit and no-holds barred attitude.

His past output included spaced-out psychedelia and more earth-bound fare, and the same holds true here. Much like Booker T.’s model, he’s got several cuts with guest vocalists who contribute mightily without stealing the limelight. Mayer Hawthorne (one of the new white-boy soul men and probably the best) nails “All Your Goodies Are Gone” from the Parliament oeuvre. The Funkadelic slow-roller “I Bet You” features the Detroit Cobras’ Rachel Nagy and the Dirtbombs’ Mick Collins.

Paolo Nutini croons the lethal Rodriguez put-down, “Only Good For Conversation,” and Lisa Kekaula of the unjustly ignored Bellrays kills on “Somebody’s Been Sleeping” (quite a twist on the old Three Little Bears tale). On all these tracks Coffey takes a supporting, but still vital role.

The instrumentals are the cuts where he shines, however. With titles like “7th Galaxy,” “Space Traveller,” “Android” and “Plutonious,” there’s no doubt about his inspiration. But these are no mere jazz-fusion guitar freakouts, they’re burning funk workouts with speaker-shredding guitar lines and wah-wah rhythm accents.

“Miss Millie,” “Knockabout” and “Ubiquitous” are street-level burners that recall ’70s blaxploitation film soundtracks, which (you guessed it) Coffey played on.

WARREN HAYNES grew up in North Carolina and, at a very early age, became smitten with the likes of Otis Redding, Wilson Pickett and other soul masters. He went on to become a guitar ace (listed in Rolling Stone magazine’s top guitarists of all time), forming his own Gov’t Mule and taking Dickie Betts’ place in the Allman Brothers.

His last solo studio record was almost two decades ago, and his new one’s just out: MAN IN MOTION. It’s his paean to his first true love. And there’s truly nothing like the first one.

Haynes hasn’t forgotten to bring his guitar (of which there’s plenty) but the focus is on his songwriting (only one cover) and singing, which is dialed down a bit to better wring out the real emotion that soul demands.

And what a backing band: Ivan Neville on organ and vocals; Ian McClagen (from the Faces) on piano; George Porter (the Meters) on bass; Raymond Weber (Dumpstaphunk) on drums; Ron Holloway (serious jazz chops) on sax; and Ruthie Foster on vocals. They recorded the record on analog tape in a six-day focused session. The results aren’t rushed or sloppy, however, but organic and … soulful.

Spread over two discs, the album clocks in at well over an hour. This is to accommodate his guitar solos and maybe to placate his fans on the jam band scene. Because he’s never out of ideas and the songs are grounded, however, there’s none of the dreaded noodling that plagues the genre.

The songs: the title cut’s got gospel chording underpinning a fresh take on an inspirational tale of ambition rewarded. “River’s Gonna Rise’ could hardly be more timely, or funky, with Neville’s Dr. John-derived organ fills and answering vocal lines. William Bell’s “Everyday Will Be Like A Holiday” is full of grace and will haunt your waking hours after it penetrates. “Sick Of My Shadow” is a whole lot more listenable than its title suggests, with a kicking backbeat and Holloway’s processed sax yakking up a storm. “Your Wildest Dreams” is an Otis tribute, a slow dance of yearning. “On A Real Lonely Night” again sounds like a self-pity party, but its music belies its message, uplifting and triumphant.

“Hattiesburg Hustle” tells the cautionary story of fame gone very wrong (“Ego is a muscle,” indeed).

“Take a Bullet” ups the ante on what a real lover man would do for his better half, set to an outright homage to the Muscle Shoals sound. “Save Me” ends the set on an elegiac note, a plea for salvation that’s ultimately answered.

These guys show that there’s still plenty of juice left in the most aptly-named musical style, soul.