Big Earl Sellar wrote this review.
About a decade ago I was turned on to the wonderful musical possibilities of the lap steel guitar. It’s basically a slab of wood (or occasionally cast metal) with six to 10 strings, tuned to a chord, and played with a bar usually made of metal. Simplicity itself, and yet the most Zen-like instrument you’ll ever encounter: although there’s much you can do, there’s also a great deal you can’t do. Your chord choices are limited, it takes a lot of practice to play in tune, and ultimately you need several in order to play in all keys. But what it can do! Long notes, wavering or still, glissandos a violinist would kill for, ease of use of harmonics (“ghost” notes produced by lightly touching the strings, resulting in a bell like sound), and supreme clarity of the musical thought process (given its limitations). It’s a wonderful instrument, one that really needs to be rediscovered soon (David Lindley notwithstanding!).
A re-issue of a 1974 release, Hula Blues is a loose compilation of several artists who explored the possibilities of the lap steel (whether electric, acoustic or Dobro/National resonators) in the decades before the more complex pedal steel was invented. To paraphrase Ry Cooder, this music is often “highly hookey.” Cheesy pop tunes, oddball standards and quasi-hokum tunes abound. This only adds to the novelty of this disc and lends it a wonderful charm.
The disc opens with two of the five tracks featuring the incredible Sol Hoopii. A natural from the word go, Hoopii was to the steel what Hendrix would later be to the electric guitar. A deft touch, thrilling harmonic runs, blinding speed, and a great sense of humour permeate his work. I was particularly struck with “Train Song,” where over top of a sprightly piano, Hoopii mimics trains, train whistles, chickens, cows and frogs. It’s a hoot! The disc also features three cuts by Roy Smeck, the “instrument King” of the 1920s and ’30s. His “Hilo March,” featuring pre-cursive country swing slide and some amazing harmonic control, is likewise a treat.
The remainder of the artists are relatively obscure in comparison. The real find here is Jim & Bob, the Genial Hawaiians, whose two tracks show off their amazing instrumental prowess for a National/harp guitar duo. Bob (last name is not given) shows off some fantastic harmonic control during “chimes” (including quoting “Taps”). The rest range from interesting to out-of-place. (Andy Sanella’s “Blues of the Guitar” is more like Blind Lemon Jefferson’s style; Pat Patterson’s “The Cat’s Whiskers” is clearly in the country swing style.)
The audio on this disc, however, is frankly awful: staticky, with a lot of surface noise from the original 78s and mastering that sends the listener to the volume control between tracks. On the back is the legend/logo “Mastered using HDCD.” Well, whatever it is, it doesn’t work worth a damn. The liner notes, from the original release, note recording dates, tunings and instruments, but not the original labels. Smeck isn’t mentioned in the liner notes at all. The style of writing is firmly early 1970s American: perfunctory, but not really too formal. It’s also woefully out of date; it closes with a mention about the Dopyera brothers building more Dobros, almost 30 years after their deaths. Mighty uninspired packaging, too.
But the many distractions aside, Hula Blues is a wonderful disc. You can’t help but grin while listening to it; this is happy, carefree music, some of it by masters of their axes. Although this isn’t timeless music, it’s well worth a listen.
(Rounder, 2000; originally issued 1974)
