Poor Graham Parker; you listen to a song like “Saturday Nite Is Dead” and you think slavish Elvis Costello imposter, when the truth is Parker arrived on the scene first. But that’s just the way it goes sometimes; rock’n’roll don’t play fair. And as a result Parker retains his status as a cult artist, while Elvis Costello is a bona fide star I almost got to meet once, but was deemed too drunk. And I was. Totally shitfaced, to be honest. But at least I didn’t make any derogatory remarks about Ray Charles.
But back to Parker and his band the Rumour. They formed in the summer of 1975, and released the highly acclaimed but poor selling Howlin’ Wind in April 1976. Great songs, swooning Village Voice writers, but no sales, and that was more or less the way it would always go, despite the band’s reputation for putting on an incendiary live show. My own feeling is that Parker’s influences (Motown, reggae, and Van Morrison) were more evident than Costello’s, and that these influences made him a less novel (and hence less marketable) artist than Elvis, who was white as Edgar Winter and wrote sneering and savage songs that apparently owed no debt to anyone. Still, the two artists sounded remarkably alike on occasion, especially vocally, which brings us back to where I started.
Parker is often referred to as a precursor of punk, and I can hear it in his strident vocals. But I don’t hear it in the songs, which thanks to the Rumour (Brinsley Schwarz, lead guitar, Bob Andrews, keyboards, Martin Belmont, rhythm guitar, Andrew Bodnar, bass, and Steve Goulding, drums) are tight, tight, tight. Parker also had a very un-punk penchant for horns (he had his own four-piece horn section). And then there were his lyrics, which were excellent but lacked the fury and scorn of first-wave punk. They’re occasionally there, in such songs as “I’m Gonna Tear Your Playhouse Down” and “Mercury Poisoning,” but early Costello, with his savage sarcasm and snotty delivery, most certainly had more of the sneering punk in him.
Hold Back the Night is a strange beast; a best-of compilation culled from the band’s first three LPs and singles and released by PolyGram Records in 1998, it opens with a true oddity—a cover by Parker and the Rumor of American disco kings The Trammps’ “Hold Back the Night.” It’s not as odd as it might seem; Parker and the Rumour scored their first UK hit with it in March 1977, and that was no small achievement. They keep the horns, and take it in an R&B direction, and it works despite its polish. Mainly because the choruses are so great and Parker’s vocals are so fiery; as for follow-up “White Honey,” it boasts horns too, and reminds me somewhat of Van Morrison during his pop years, thanks to Parker’s repetitions of the title and the perky tempo.
“Howlin’ Wind” demonstrates both the strengths and weaknesses of Parker—the title hints at mayhem and gale force guitars; what you get instead is a relatively restrained tune. The piano is stately rather than Jerry Lee Lewis raucous; this is an R&B song with reggae undertones, and an almost lounge-like feel in places. Only Parker’s vocals hint at a howl. It is nevertheless a great song; the band is tight, the keyboards are spot on, and if the tune doesn’t sweep the deck chairs off your patio over you’ll still find yourself listening to it over and over. “Don’t Ask Me No Questions” sounds like a meeting between Mott the Hoople and your favorite reggae band and it’s a marvel with Brinsley Schwarz playing great lead while Belmont’s rhythm guitar percolates. Parker is basically telling God he’s the one who’s going to be asking the questions, and the group vocals on the chorus (“Hey Lord!” shouts the band, which Parker follows with an impudent “Don’t ask me questions”) are killer. But why do I feel Parker’s vocals are too restrained? Where are the acid and bile? Yet the song still works, and well, thanks to the perfect arrangement, which highlights some excellent piano, more perfect guitar by Schwarz (his take out, while Parker sings “Hey hey hey, etc.!” is superb), and a rhythm section that is tighter than Ebenezer Scrooge and sounds like it came straight outta Jamaica.
“Heat Treatment” is an upbeat party tune, with lots of perky horns and Parker letting loose, the group providing funky backing vocals. Throw in some great piano, a sax solo, and one truly odd guitar solo, and this one is a sure winner. Reminds me of a Bruce Springsteen song, it does, and that’s not a bad thing. It’s a million miles from punk, but it’s got the right spirit. Meanwhile, “Thunder and Rain” is an instant classic, upbeat and evocative, with Parker giving it all on his vocals. “Lightning cracked, I fell back/Hail dropped like bullets through the air/Pull me in by my skin, give me the strength to go out there,” he snarls, before delivering the great chorus, “Lovers get caught just the same in the thunder and rain.” This one wins on its melody alone, and why it wasn’t a smash hit eludes me.
“New York Shuffle” is a guitar and organ-fueled rave up, with Parker firing off the lyrics about how he’s going to stay up all night before Schwarz launches into a frenetic solo. Parker name drops Jack Daniels, tells everybody to get uptight, and repeats it over and over—get uptight! It’s as frantic a song as the city it celebrates, and in the end it’s too much for poor Graham: “Ah primal scream,” he sings, “I had electric dreams/I had to bang my head against the ground/I got to get out quick before I get as sick/As the people livin’ in this town.” “Soul on Ice” is another fast one, and if New York City was making him uptight on this one he’s freezing, and there’s nothing any fool can do to help him. “Freezin’ freezin’,” sing the band, followed by Parker singing, “Like a soul on ice,” and if I can’t figure out exactly what he’s singing about, I want to give him a thick blanket and tell him it’s alright. Once again his vocals are akin to Costello’s, but fuck Elvis—Parker, to his credit, has remained a rock’n’roller, while Costello has turned into a musical chameleon and dilettante who has yet to meet a genre he won’t dabble in.
The LP includes a live take on “The Heat in Harlem,” a rollicking number that highlights the band’s horns and Schwarz’s snaky guitar riffs. Parker is hopping, maybe due to the heat of the concrete, and this one has a tinge of rebop to it, especially during the slow breakdown in the middle, and I love the way the song slowly builds back to its original speed, with Schwarz really kicking things into gear and those horns blaring while Parker sings about the “heat of the soul” and being “down in the heat wave.” Towards the end he slows things down to cool off—no air conditioning in Harlem—and the band joins him in repeating the title until he really takes off, shooting off sparks with his vocals while Schwarz kicks keister and those horns grow really randy. The LP also includes a live take on “Watch the Moon Come Down,” which has Parker writing off his town with its shady streets, but tossing out a wonderful chorus and some of the best lyrics I think he’s ever written. It’s an infinitely seductive tune, a mid-tempo number that swings and is perfectly suited to Parker’s voice. Schwarz plays great guitar, the organ is sublime and reminds me of Garth Hudson, and Parker repeats the song title over and over, slowly pronouncing every word and upping the ante with each repetition. It’s a classic, no doubt about it.
Album closer “Fool’s Gold” is a sweetheart of a number, a lovely ballad that recalls old R&B and has Parker searching the world for “that fool’s gold” we call love. The piano is perfect, there’s a lovely sax solo and lots of cool backing vocals, and as the song goes on Parker ups the intensity, while the band—Schwarz’s guitar work is as fiery as it is perfect, as is the organ that comes in—transports you to that place where music is supposed to transport you, namely to heaven.
Parker and the Rumour parted ways in 1980 after recording five LPs including 1980’s much acclaimed Squeezing Out Sparks, and Parker went on to record with such backing bands as The Shot and The Figgs, as well as recording numerous solo albums. He has enjoyed some moderate success, with some albums doing reasonably well and others more or less tanking. But he’s carried on, collaborating with various musicians and reuniting with the Rumour for 2012’s well-received Three Chords Good and 2015’s Mystery Glue. He will never overcome his status as a cult artist, but that’s okay; some of my best friends are cult artists. You may be able to hold back the night, but there’s no holding back Parker; heat treatment, thunder and rain, Mercury poisoning, he’s survived them all, and for all I know there isn’t a single thing in this world capable of finishing him off.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A
