Everybody knows Jay Ferguson, the one-hit wonder who bequeathed us the great “Thunder Island.” Some will remember that he got his start in Randy California’s Spirit. But how many also know that, bookended between his days with Spirit and his checkered career as a solo artist, he was both the creative spark and voice of the band Jo Jo Gunne?
Jo Jo Gunne–the four-piece that Ferguson and Matt Andes founded following their departure from Spirit–seemed destined for big things; David Geffen, who had mad ears, made them the second act he signed to his Asylum Records label.
But Jo Jo Gunne took one very wrong turn on their way to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and too bad, says I, because the quartet’s 1972 eponymous debut is a bona fide lost (albeit minor) masterpiece. Part of the problem could have been that Jo Jo Gunne resisted easy categorization; they usually get filed under hard rock, but one listen to Jo Jo Gunne is enough to dispel the notion.
I detect glimmers of American Glam, a few tinges of barstool blues, some Winters brothers, and even the Jackson 5, and these disparate echoes undoubtedly made Jo Jo Gunne a very hard band to pigeonhole–and sell.
Don’t get me wrong; the boys have some hard rock in ‘em, as they prove on the very, very dumb (sample lyric: “Oh you know you’re so bony/You smile like a pony”) but very, very crunchy “I Make Love.” Andes kicks out the jams on guitar, and you’ll never guess it was the lightweight dude who gave us “Thunder Island” who’s singing. And Mark Andes (on bass) and William “Curly” Smith (on drums) produce a real din.
Similarly, “Academy Award” is heavy as heaven; Ferguson sounds mean as he sings about a woman who’s “a freak,” “a real vibrator,” and “a back door banger.” He’s not going to win any Gloria Steinem Awards for Feminism, that’s for sure, but the group vocals and grinding groove make this one a real back door boogie. As for “Take It Easy,” it’s a bluesy slow burner that sets Ferguson’s smoldering vocals against Andes’ equally fiery guitar licks. The easy-going Eagles it ain’t.
But that’s where the hard rock stops. Jo Jo Gunne shows off an altogether different side on “Run Run Run,” their one-hit equivalent of “Thunder Island.” It’s a spritely boogaloo, all high spirits and “Doo Do Doo,” with Andes’ rip-roaring slide guitar to lend it both heft and lift. It has the effortless feel of a Paul McCartney throwaway, and I’m always razzed to hear it.
And if “Run Run Run” is off-kilter, boogie salute “Shake That Fat” is flat-out weird; a jaunty piano rocker that melds Edgar Winter (in Jay’s vocals) with the Jackson 5 (in the great “Na na na na na na na na na” that follows). Throw in some barking dogs and a doozy of a slide guitar solo by Andes, and what you’ve got is a song that would have sounded really cool coming out of your Pinto’s FM radio circa 1972.
“Babylon” is both chiming and catchy; kind of comes at you like very lightweight Grand Funk, it does, and you gotta love the backing vocals. “Barstow Blue Eyes” is a distaff honky-tonk road song about a gal Jay met on his “way to Dallas, working at the Burger Palace.” The song’s a bit silly, but the musicianship isn’t; Andes takes the opportunity to show off his ax chops, while Ferguson really cuts loose on the 88s.
“Flying Home” is a slow and atmospheric dream song and also about life on the road; “New York was bad but Texas was worse,” sings a down-in-the-mouth Ferguson, who wants nothing more than to sleep in his own bed again. “99 Days” ditto–these boys sound like they’ve been touring for a 1,001 nights, not 99 days, and it doesn’t help that somebody has stolen their suitcase.
Ferguson’s piano playing is a bit too fussy for my tastes, and the line “French fries, hair pies” is engraved upon my memory (and not in a good way), but I like the vocal call and response, big bad bottom, and Andes’ raunch-and-roll guitar.
Jo Jo Gunne’s three subsequent LPs fared successively worse, and it was sheer despair that led Andes to split for Firefall and Ferguson to say fuck it and go the solo route. But if Jo Jo Gunne failed to make much of an impression on record buyers, their debut is well worth a spin. It’s good PG-rated fun, hair pies excepted, and you’ll want to dance to the damn thing.
Na na na na na na na na na!
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
