Chicapah Up until 1973 when this album was released with a revamped lineup I had generally ignored the band altogether. I, along with everyone else, couldn’t help but notice the arresting cover art that graced the front of “Sailin’ Shoes” as it stared out at us with one eye from the record bins but its strangely alluring siren call was never enough to make me invest in a group that I’d still not heard much from on the north Texas airwaves. I’d gleaned through the musician grapevine that their amalgamation of rock and roll, blues, R&B, boogie, country, folk, gospel, soul, funk and jazz fusion influences was something worth checking out but I always found another LP more intriguing so I didn’t and still have yet to investigate their first two offerings. But once I heard the clever title cut of this one being played both on the radio and by local bands I respected I knew the time had come for me to bring the new disc home. Thus began a personal affection for Little Feat that lasted through the end of the 20th century.

Briefly, singer/guitarist Lowell George and keyboard man Bill Payne had started the group a few years earlier in ‘71 along with drummer Richard Hayward and bassist Roy Estrada. After the first two albums failed to set the world on fire Roy bowed out and was replaced by a couple of Louisiana boys, percussionist Sam Clayton and bass man Kenny Gradney, along with a native of Burbank, axe-wielder Paul Barrere. The expanded lineup and broader variety of ethnicity brought a funkier, less rowdy aspect to their music and the result was a sound that was more accessible while still being wholly unique at the same time. While I classify none of the songs on this record as being solidly locked into what I consider to be the realm of pure jazz, the unmistakable aura of jazz is ever-present in their presentation and I think it’s that element that truly distinguished them from the crowd of early 70s wannabe bands.

The album begins with the highly contagious conga/drum rhythm that draws you into “Dixie Chicken” without a fight. The song’s indescribable mixture of genres appeals to a wide spectrum of tastes and it’s the epitome of what I call good, clean fun that doesn’t insult one’s intelligence. It’s so memorable a tune that, despite it never being a top 40 hit, it’s probably the first number that pops into people’s minds when you mention the group almost 40 years after its debut. “Two Trains” follows and its funky R&B feel is a great example of how each member was able to contribute their own personality to the tracks without anyone ever stepping on anybody else’ toes. If nothing else, they were consummate professionals who knew exactly how and what to play. “Roll ‘um Easy” is next and it’s a sultry slice of bluesy folk from Lowell presented with only acoustic guitar and slide for accompaniment. When the immensely popular Linda Ronstadt covered it on one of her LPs in short order it brought further and a lotta much-welcomed attention to both George and the band.

The best cut on the album is their version of Allan Toussaint’s “On Your Way Back Down.” Payne’s soulful piano licks lead you into some of the tightest slow funk that you’ll ever have the pleasure of hearing as the group conjures up a hypnotic groove that pulls you in as relentlessly as a deep river’s dangerous undercurrent. Barrere’s dusky guitar tone is perfect for the mood and Bill shows how to utilize the Hammond B3 organ in the same way a talented chef tastefully uses spices. Lowell’s “Kiss It Off” ends the first side and it’s a very mysterious, eclectic piece that defies labeling. Somehow they blend tablas with synthesizer lines and make them compatible with each other. “Fool Yourself” is quite typical of the inimitable Little Feat sound in that the song is structured around the normal verse/chorus formula but it is anything but commercial, nonetheless.

The joyous ‘Nawlins flavor abounds in Bill & Paul’s “Walkin’ All Night” and it serves well as a decent rock & roll ditty. But it is dwarfed by George’s magnificent “Fat Man in the Bathtub,” a signature song that showcases what made this group so special and out-of-the-ordinary. Punchy kicks and accents provide the track with excellent dynamics and the spirited female chorale (featuring Bonnie Raitt and Bonnie Bramlett) adds a bright element to this entertaining tune. Payne’s Wurlitzer electric piano and a somber flute provide Lowell’s dark, understated rocker “Juliette” with a somewhat macabre character. A bit disjointed, it proves to be the record’s least-congealed cut. They go out on an upbeat note, though, with the instrumental “Lafayette Railroad.” Their jazz leanings are most visible in the lazy, flowing atmosphere they concoct for this light number and it always brings to my mind the laid-back vibe of southern California in the 70s.

My hope is that by Little Feat being included on a website dedicated to jazz music and lovers thereof many who previously discounted the band as being some kind of country rock outfit that attracted only bored Deadheads and pot smoking navel-gazers will now give them a closer inspection. I promise you’ll be pleased you did. Their eccentric persona, as evidenced on “Dixie Chicken,” never yielded to the allure of becoming more mainstream (i.e. profitable) throughout their long career and few rock groups were able to collect a following as loyal as theirs notwithstanding the usual kiss-of-death “musician’s band” tag they’ve always proudly worn. In summation, Little Feat is one of only a handful of All-American combos that dared to defy convention and repeatedly flew in the face of musical conservatism.