Bins far and wide are loaded with fringe sounds, but legitimately “outsider” stuff comprises a considerably tiny percentage of the musical scenario. That’s where the concise discography of San Franciscan Doug Hream Blunt resides; at once stylistically recognizable and singular in execution, the work of Blunt and his bandmates proves consistently intriguing as it amasses unique, and some will argue perplexing, grooves. My Name is Doug Hream Blunt: Featuring the Hit “Gentle Persuasion” is out now on LP/CD/digital courtesy of Luaka Bop.
Akin to various other examples of outsider creativity, the story of singer-guitarist Doug Hream Blunt is nearly as interesting as his album’s contents. A novice musician at age 35, he signed up for the sort of learning opportunity seemingly possible only through a handful of US municipalities, San Francisco near the top; specifically, ‘twas an adult education course titled “How to Start a Band.” Once enrolled that’s exactly what Blunt did.
The class was held in the garage/home studio of teacher Victor Flaviani, who also served as music instructor at a local high school. Flaviani played the vibes while his wife Laura and his sister Angele plucked bass and guitar; several classmates filled out the lineup. The results landed them on the Bay Area public access television program City Visions, their striking performance thankfully surviving and currently available on YouTube.
It’s easily findable via the website of Luaka Bop, a long-serving enterprise sporting a roster including Cornershop, Shuggie Otis, Jim White, Tom Zé, Shoukichi Kina, William Onyeabor, and co-founder David Byrne, an amassing of talent predictive of the substance ultimately shaping My Name is Doug Hream Blunt.
The musicality of Blunt and crew is undeniably off-kilter, and many will assuredly hear nothing beyond a valiant failure at capturing the essence of ’80’s R&B with gestures of funk and prominent rock flourishes. And make no mistake, it’s the uninhibited gravitation toward popular forms rather than subversive goals or an inclination for the avant-garde that helps to define Blunt as an outsider instead of a mere fringe dweller. Additionally differentiating him from some of his “out” peers is a generally healthy biography.
Though far from an exhaustive background (e.g. it’s unclear precisely when these ten songs were cut), the tale eschews the behavioral issues lingering around his troubled contemporaries. By extension, Blunt’s successful if quite modest local promotion, which notably put him in the racks of enduring San Fran indie shop Aquarius Records, assists Luaka Bop in avoiding accusations of exploitation as they freshly repackage the “Gentle Persuasion” and “Big Top” 12-inch EPs.
The lyrics reveal Blunt as something less than a powerhouse wordsmith, but his stanzas do effectively establish aims, interests, and personality; even without any bio-insight it’ll still be pretty evident My Name Is constitutes a naive yet wildly inspired and substantially disciplined attempt at replicating the genre combo cited above, and with Curtis Mayfield on the list of Blunt’s influences, “Fly Guy” blends themes of social relevance (“teach the youth/about drugs and abuse”) and basic statements of intent (“Girl, I just wanna chill/fall into a groove/and then move!”).
A groove, indeed; instrumentally, the group hits upon an indefatigable repetition undercutting any charges of ineptness, though the structure is adhered to so faithfully that it instills a facet of peculiarity to the proceedings. While competent, the drum fills do exude a touch of beginner’s flair and along with an inexpensive keyboard aura and a sense of thriftiness across the board, “Fly Guy” points to what The Wire writer David Keenan termed “Hypnagogic Pop.”
Unsurprisingly, Ariel Pink is a fan, as are Byrne, Devendra Banhart, Dam-Funk, and Dean Blunt, the latter’s moniker reportedly inspired by the San Franciscan; as part of the duo Hype Williams, Dean even remixed Doug’s “hit” “Gentle Persuasion” into a slowed-down and screwy haze and added the title “Get Choong and Look at the Sky.”
The original is noted for its exhortation to “move your butt” as additional lyrics peppered with sex-talk suavity mildly suggest an alternate universe incarnation of early Prince; it’s a comparison underlined at least somewhat by Blunt’s idiosyncratic guitar stylings, his steel drum-inflected solo presenting “Gentle Persuasion” with a tropical flavor.
Like Prince, Blunt was heavily affected by the precedent of Jimi Hendrix, and the fact shines brightly on “Whiskey Man,” its incessant keyboard bounciness and straight-ahead R&B vocalizing (“I got to be mellow!” the emphatic refrain) sitting in sharp contrast with the washed-out practice amp squall of the soloing.
Blunt learned the instrument under the guidance of Flaviani, who apparently didn’t know how to play guitar himself. It’s a circumstance accounting for a wildness of approach that can be an unusual fit with the surrounding smoothness, though the reggae-tinged “Break Free” reveals a moderate amount of musical sensitivity.
And if “Gentle Persuasion” is indisputably ranked as the hit, “Ride the Tiger” best encapsulates the sonic wrinkles making Blunt’s oeuvre a worthy rescue from history’s harsh dustbin; the colorful lyrics grasp at a vaguely Mayfield-esque positivity as a reference to the Berlin Wall aids in placing the recording in an approximate period.
Oozing prickly note spatter, Blunt’s digits are in full left-field effect. Amidst it all is a swirling drone and a crisp drum anchor. It’s followed by the guest vocals of Demetrius Evans on “Caribbean Queen”; not a cover of the Billy Ocean number, it nevertheless underscores the impact of both the performer and of ’80s pop-R&B overall.
Derived from the second of his two vinyl EPs, “Big Top” is a sonically denser proposition, the keyboard mimicking a calliope as the singing gets an intermittent transfusion of rudimentary echo, and as further illustrated on “Trek,” his string wrangling emerges as increasingly adept and authentically psychedelic. Penultimate track “Love Land” is the closest the LP comes to an environment of unhindered melodiousness, achieving a buoyant slab of Reagan-era radio pop more than a little reminiscent of Ray Parker Jr.
Blunt doesn’t neglect his axe however, and while there are a few spots of treading water My Name Is displays wider range than numerous outsider cohorts. The disc concludes with six and a half minutes of borderline hypnotic eccentricity in “Fly Guy (instrumental).” Orders placed through Luaka Bop’s Blunt site add a free mp3 and a “Gentle Persuasion” air freshener; an extra five bucks buys a copy of the Gentle Persuasion Erotic Magazine.
Dating from 1991, the endeavor brings to mind old-time fiddler Howard “Louie Bluie” Armstrong’s stash of pornography in Terry Zwigoff’s ’85 documentary Louie Bluie. It’s obvious throughout My Name is Doug Hream Blunt that it’s the byproduct of a vibrant if atypical artist, one whose residency in the musical landscape is well deserved.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
