The Continental Drifters are currently on an extended hiatus, but that doesn’t mean you can’t hear some “new” music from this quintessential American roots-rock band. Bass-player and chief archivist Mark Walton has dipped into the vaults and come up with Nineteen Ninety-Three, an album recorded a decade ago by an early incarnation of the group.
Let’s go back, for a moment, to Los Angeles of the late 1980s and early ’90s. The Continental Drifters formed out of the remnants of what was known as the Paisley Underground, which included groups like the Soft Boys and the Bangles. It started as a group of like-minded musicians who gathered at clubs to play their favorite cover songs and some of their own compositions.
The group was formed by bassist Walton, drummer and singer Carlo Nuccio, guitarist Ray Ganucheau, and guitarist/singer Gary Eaton. The membership, however, was fluid, and by the time these songs were recorded, included Peter Holsapple, a keyboard specialist and musical jack of all trades, with occasional vocal contributions from the Psycho Sisters — otherwise known as Vicki Peterson, late of the Bangles, and Susan Cowsill, who started recording with her family when she was 8 years old.
With four solid songwriters — Holsapple, Eaton, Ganucheau and Nuccio — all of whom lean toward the soul and rhythm & blues end of the music spectrum, and a wealth of instrumental prowess, the Continental Drifters were a supergroup indeed. But for one reason or another, their recording, Ninety-Three, promptly sank from sight. Kudos to German label Blue Rose for helping Walton revive it.
It kicks off with “The Mississippi,” a slab of swampy soul written by Nuccio and Ganucheau, with the latter lending his bluesy tenor to the lead vocal spot. “Dallas,” by Eaton, is a slow rocker in six-eight time, a soulful remembrance of growing up in the city where a president was shot. Next Nuccio’s rough, swaggering voice belts out the bluesy “Sidesteppin’ the Fire,” a paean to the rough and rowdy life of a musician. Then Holsapple steps up to the mike with his “Invisible Boyfriend.”
It goes on like that, one deep groove after another. Holsapple’s keyboards, particularly the shimmying Hammond B-3 organ, are a constant presence, as is the rhythm laid down by Nuccio and Walton. There’s a certain amount of scorching guitar playing, too, and some tasty slide from Holsapple.
If there’s a weakness to this set of 13 songs, it’s the fact that there isn’t one focal point to the group, but rather three or four individual strong voices, and a certain monotone to the pallette of r&b-influenced mid-tempo rock. Truth be told, though all of these guys could write good songs, none of them at this point was writing great songs, and the set might have benefitted from a well-chosen cover or two.
(Blue Rose, 2003)
At the other end of the decade, the Drifters, now featuring Holsapple, Peterson and Cowsill as the three main vocalists (with Walton still on bass, Robert Mache on guitar and Russ Broussard on drums) presided over a special concert honoring the music of English folk-rock goddess (the late) Sandy Denny. Long fans of Denny, Richard Thompson and Fairport Convention, the group went on to record an EP’s-worth of songs from those two, Listen, Listen, also released on Blue Rose.
It’d be hard to go wrong with material this strong, and by this point, the Drifters were quite possibly the best cover band on the planet. They do honor to these songs by remaining true to their spirit but at the same time, making them their own, with seven impassioned performances.
The music is almost entirely acoustic, save for Walton’s bass. The band leans heavily on mandolins, with some acoustic guitar, and Holsapple’s accordion adding color and texture.
Peterson’s crystalline vocals lead off with a lovely and inspiring take on Denny’s “Listen, Listen.” Cowsill and Holsapple are perfect in their duet on “I Want to See the Bright Lights Tonight,” Cowsill’s textured voice a perfect match for this ultimate party song. Holsapple sings “Poor Ditching Boy” as though it were a ballad mined from Stephen Foster’s songbag, all three singing double-tracked harmonies in the closing chorus, a spine-tingling moment.
Guitarist Mache takes the lead vocals on Thompson’s Byrdsian “You’re Gonna Need Somebody,” which features Holsapple’s accordion prominently on the melody. Cowsill takes it solo all the way on a powerful rendition of “I’m a Dreamer,” but it’s Holsapple who pushes things over the top, with a balls-to-the-wall cover of the swords-and-lust ballad, “Matty Groves.” Finally, they bring things back to earth, with Peterson taking the lead and the others lending perfect harmonies to everybody’s favorite Fairport sing-along, “Meet on the Ledge.”
In a further nod to Fairport, the Drifters borrow the original artwork from Liege & Lief for the CD cover.
Together or singly, these releases should make the Continental Drifters some new fans on both sides of the Atlantic, and keep their long-time fans happy as they await whatever will be the next incarnation of this superb ensemble.
(Blue Rose, 2001)
[Editor’s note: See the Continental Drifters’ website.]
