“The Return of Walter Daniels Meets Jack Oblivian and The Shieks” delivers exactly what the title promises, the 5-song, 33 1/3 RPM 7-inch from Black & Wyatt Records of Memphis extending a collaboration that reaches back to the mid-’90s, combining Daniels’ mouth harp and singing with the garage punk organizational acumen of Jack Oblivian. Featuring five inspired covers, this one’s a total keeper, available now or as soon as the wax arrives from Spain.
The background of Walter Daniels is extensive. Based in Austin, he first hit vinyl in the mid-’80s blowing bluesy, amped harmonica on “The Poor Man’s ZZ Top!,” the final 45 by punkers The Ideals, and did the same on Waltz-a-Cross-Dress Texas, the second LP by the noted cowpunk band Hickoids. But it was in the following decade that Daniels really broke out with numerous records, short and long, on a bunch of labels including Estrus and Sympathy for the Record Industry.
It was Sympathy that first teamed Daniels with The Oblivians and Monsieur Jeffrey Evans (of Gibson Bros. and ’68 Comeback) in ’95 for the 10-inch “At Melissa’s Garage,” which offered five distortion-laden covers of tunes by Juke Boy Bonner, Jackie Morningstar, Marty Robbins, Bo Diddley, and the Big Boys. A 2×7-inch follow-up, “Someday My Prince Will Come,” came in ’94, credited to Evans and ’68 Comeback (of which Jack Oblivian was a member under his birth name Jack Yarber), offering two Evans originals on the first disc and covers of tunes recorded by Ray Charles and Lowell Fulsom on the second.
As The Oblivians stand as one of the swankest of all ’90s garage-punk bands, any subsequent action from Jack is fully worthy of investigation, including his work (retaining the Oblivian moniker) with The Shieks. Released in 2016 by Mony Records (and reissued by Black & Wyatt in 2020), Lone Ranger of Love by the union is a true humdinger of an LP.
But more germane to this review is Jack and The Shieks’ first 7-inch with Daniels, “We Have Both,” issued in 2017 by Ghost Highway Records of Spain, where trad gospel tune “Standing in the Need of Prayer” gets backed with Captain Beefheart’s “I Love You, Big Dummy,” and the download only bonus is “The Planets” by Texan multi-instrumentalist, singer, songwriter and frequent one-man band Homer Henderson.
Issued in an edition of 300 with three color variants of 100 each, the wax for “We Have Both” is long gone but the tracks are still available digitally. It’s a finely fucked-up affair, but this second meeting is even better, opening with a raw-ass pounding of Willie Dixon’s “Seventh Son” (which most folks know either from its original recording by Willie Mabon or subsequent covers by Mose Allison and Johnny Rivers). While they surely rough up the original, they don’t demolish it, which is smart, as much of the song’s appeal comes down to Dixon’s songwriting.
“Rice Krispies,” a 52-second dive into The Rolling Stones’ Brian Jones-penned breakfast cereal advert tune follows, a funny and pretty faithful run-through of this oddball and still relatively little-known bit of Stones history (it played in the UK only). Next is a version of “Big Brother” by Sheldon Allman (an actor, the singing voice of noted television horse Mr. Ed, plus a songwriter and recording artist) from his 1960 cult item Folk Songs for the 21st Century.
Again, they stick close to the original with “Big Brother,” though the rockabilly-tinged country feel is dialed up just a bit. It’s a good one, but even better is their tackling of the Muddy Waters’ obscurity “Read Way Back” that plays to Daniels’ strengths (he was born in Chicago where he was first exposed to Chess Records-style electric blues and took an interest in playing mouth harp).
That Chicago blues feel is retained in closer “Comin’ Home, Baby” which might seem odd given that Daniels sets the harp aside on a cover of a tune Mel Torme cut for Atlantic in ’62 with lyrics by Bob Dorough and the music by jazz bassist Ben Tucker (instrumental versions were waxed pre-lyrics by the Dave Bailey Quintet in studio and Hebie Mann live).
Here, Daniels and The Shieks again retain the essence of the Torme version (wisely keeping the gal vocal backing, on the original by The Cookies and here by Tiffany White). But instead of harmonica, there’s a swell baritone sax solo by Seth Moody (the electric piano is also quite nice), and yet it still reminds me of an off the wall single that Paul Butterfield never cut for Elektra around ’66 or so. It’s the coolest capper to this studio reunion, which adds range to the principals’ mastery of bluesy punk scuzz.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
