THE BLONDE BOMBER (pseud. Walter Rhodes), "STROLLIE BUN" C/W "I AM TO BLAME" (HULL 737, REL. 1960, 1964, 2010)

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The Blonde Bomber is ready to rock your Friday! This was a colorful alias for a one-of-a-kind bluesman. There are two Walter Rhodes in blues history. The first was an accordionist-singer who made one 78-rpm single for Columbia Records in 1927. 1926 and ’27 were a period quite similar to the early rock ‘n’ roll era for recording. The general idea that something new in vernacular music was afoot prodded record companies to seek out rural performers who just might be their next major seller. Thus, candidates who’d quickly be ruled out got at least one shot to do their thing on shellac. The magical feeling of anything goes makes blues and country records from these two years something special. By 1928, sales reports gave recording execs a rudder to steer through this to-them savage and unknown music. What sold dictated what performers were recorded and signed. And, by the middle of the 1930s, these rustic musical forms had tamed themselves—due to their performers being able to hear what distant peers had done, via records and radio, and via the more genteel sounds beamed in on radio and in movies. Ten years of mostly unremarkable music resulted, until post-war musicians began to shake things up, which led into the 1950s when rhythm and blues begat rock ‘n’ roll and country music morphed into rockabilly, and another magical era of anything goes began anew.

That second wave had died down when our Walter Rhodes made a bracing single for New York’s Hull Records. This Beaufort, SC native began as a musician in a gospel group and then eased into secular music. His band backed up performers like Big Maybelle and Shep and The Limelights in live venues. Rhodes made his first single in 1958 for a small label. It’s likely that James “Shep” Sheppard of the Limelights recommended Rhodes to Hull, who were willing to take a one-shot chance with him. His nom de tune was a reference to his light pigmentation and hair color.

Anyone who purchased Hull 763 in 1960 had the rest of their day transformed by two of the wildest sides of that year. For those who despaired of the bland output of white teen idols, Rhodes’ wrenching music was a breath of fresh air—of the possibility that rock ‘n’ roll was still alive and well, despite all the odds against it.

“Strollie Bun” is an ace blues rocker that checks all the boxes: driving beat? ✓ shredded-larynx vocal? ✓ hot sax solo? ✓ powerful rhythm section? ✓ surreal/nonsense lyrics? ✓ Yup, it’s all there in spades. Such a record was a reminder that popular music didn’t have to be genteel. The message was lost on all but the most die-hard acolytes in 1960. Hull reissued the single in 1964, when Liverpool imports suggested a new audience for such music. That release failed to sell. This was a recipe for a legendary record, and copies of any release are in high demand. I settled for a 2010 50^th-anniversary reissue, which is on good vinyl rather than the thin, easily stressed styrene of the earlier releases. It sounds great.

Hear it >>>>> HERE. <<<<<

Cash Box approved of this record...I think.

My favorite UK soul snob, ‘Sir Shambling,’ dismisses “Strollie Bun” as mere plebian rock ‘n’ roll but approves of “I Am to Blame on the B. "My candidate for the first deep soul record ever cut," he declares. That’s a big claim, and it’s stated as an opinion rather than an implied fact. There are any number of Black recordings from 1960 that indicate the beginning of a major change. Rhodes was part of this forefront.

From its opening, with a sustained minor chord over which he wails a sorrowful blues, this primitive, direct, no-frills performance is stunning. To quote Sir S again: "Listen to the passion he generates, particularly on the second verse when he rises thrillingly above the melody." I’d copy-edit that awkward adverb, but I otherwise share his opinion. The record’s one flaw? It just ends. Cold. Bam. A sax solo would’ve been an ideal way to prolong this glorious misery, and the expressive tune ideal for a change-of-pace for whomever played out a verse. But the impact of that sudden end is strong. It’s akin to someone slamming a door or window with anger and pain. Maybe it’s better the way it is.

Hear it >>>>> HERE. <<<<<

Rhodes made a single for Hull’s Mascot imprint in 1962. “I Worship the Ground You Walk On” is a sequel to “I Am to Blame.” Similar melody and vibe, though with more of a production. Sir Shambling reckons this side is "...an almost perfect example of the beginnings of soul when elements of blues, doo-wop and R & B were coming together with gospel phrasing to create this new hybrid." You can hear it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSXf3Wj_1Ws

Tomorrow: the oldest 45 in my collection—one of RCA Victor’s first seven-inch releases. Two superb blues by Jazz Gillum, via a cerise-colored, super-low-volume record. (Much boosting was required to rescue the music from its meek under-mixing.)