Tompkins Square continues to rescue neglected independent releases from the cruel clutches of obscurity. The latest: William C. Beeley’s Gallivantin’, which came out in a self-financed edition of 200 in 1971, and its follow-up Passing Dream, cut as Will Beeley for the Malaco label in ‘79. The first is full-bodied solo folk, the second a serving of uncut country verve, and the reemergence of both comes attached with the good news of new Beeley material to be issued by Tompkins Square in 2018. Sage advice is to get hip to the guy’s stuff right now; Gallivantin’ and Passing Dream are available on vinyl June 30.
Historically, it’s been far more common for talent to be underappreciated or outright ignored than to be met with the deserved level of success. Gallivantin’ is the prime example of this circumstance; it’s a private press, but it’s not loner, outsider, or offbeat in any way. In fact, opening with a sharp cover of Dylan’s “You Ain’t Goin’ Nowhere” and closing with an astute ten-minute merger of two songs by Buffy Sainte-Marie, “Little Wheel Spin and Spin/Co’dine,” the disc has a very strong connection to the folky spirit of the time.
Tackling Bob was, if not a prerequisite, then extremely common during the era, but it’s Beeley’s take on Sainte-Marie that really drives home Gallivantin’ as an in-tune byproduct of the folk scene. Most importantly, the high quality of his interpretations extends to the record’s eight originals, which unwind without a letdown; “Gallivanter” and “Summer Colored Skin” are loaded with imagery without going overboard, and “Walk” offers a blend of Leonard Cohen and the Greenwich Village that’s the highpoint of the first side. It’s followed by the scaled-back relationship ditty “And then I’ll Be Gone.”
Concision is another constant element, as seven songs, none breaking the three-minute mark, comprise side one. The brevity only serves to reinforce the album’s function as a demo of sorts for bigger labels; one listen to Gallivantin’ is all it takes to understand the interest of Elektra and Capitol, and it was through a promotion rep with A&M that Beeley hooked up with Malaco.
He cut a bunch of new songs for the company and a single resulted, but lack of sales stalled momentum. Malaco released him from his contract with first refusal on new material, but when presented with a batch of tunes in ’76 they dug the results, and Passing Dream was recorded on the 4th of July weekend of the following year. It didn’t see release until ’79 and on the seemingly makeshift Southern Biscuit label, probably because Malaco was primarily known for its soul, gospel, and blues output.
If country wasn’t necessarily Malaco’s forte, they knew what they were doing, and like its predecessor, it only takes a single spin to comprehend Passing Dream as a thoroughly professional and indeed, quite commercially inclined, affair. Tompkins Square does mention alt-country as a point of comparison, and that’s not off-target, mainly because so much of the genre’s mainstream has been long traveling a trail deep into the heart of suckdom.
Malaco rounded up a crew of session aces, giving guitarist Larry Campbell (later of Dylan and Levon Helm) his first studio credit, while nabbing drummer James Stroud (Marshall Tucker Band, Eddie Rabbitt), and keyboardist Carson Whitsett (Paul Simon, Tony Joe White) amongst others. In fact, opener “Standin’ At the Station” is a smidge reminiscent of White’s swampy sound, though “Sailin’ with You” slows the pace and highlights the commercial intentions. This isn’t a bad thing, as it registers a bit like a soft-rock Don Williams.
The comparison to Williams extends to the record overall, though this has much less to do with the sound of Beeley’s voice (which is nonetheless strong throughout) than it does with an unconflicted expression of the mainstream. Passing Dream isn’t a rediscovered platter of Outlaw honky-tonk, though neither is it afflicted with Nashville-esque saccharine; “Tell Me How You Are” manages to be both tender and robust, while “I Can’t Pretend Much Longer” gives a lyrical transfusion to a well-worn topic.
By dismissing the club scene and discos, “I Don’t Know What I’m Into” manages to stake a claim for country authenticity while resisting an abundance of twang and fiddle; the song’s organ strains are closer to country-rock than the Grand Ole Opry, but it’s Beeley’s natural C&W delivery that brings it all home. Likewise, “Rainy Sunday,” where the singing redirects a folky opening into decidedly country territory, though the pedal steel certainly helps.
“Circle” utilizes a string section to non-detrimental result, in part due to a heavy backbeat and some electric piano, while “I Saw Jesus Peakin’ Through a Hole in the Sky” fittingly employs gospel choral backing, also to positive effect. Perhaps it’s just the use of chimes, but the title track reintegrates a bit of the soft-rock feel, but closer “As the Darkness of the Heavens” deepens the C&W bona fides with increased fiddle and pedal steel as Beeley’s vocal keeps it all together.
Passing Dream isn’t Outlaw, but it will likely be right up the alley of folks into Heartworn Highways. For the last 14 years, Beeley and his wife have been working as long-haul truck drivers, but it hasn’t stopped him from writing new songs. On the strength of his revived work, his third record is poised to receive an appropriate, if not widespread, audience response.
Gallivantin’
B+
Passing Dream
A-
