Music Notes by Mark Jordan New Stuff in the Bins We have a bunch of new local releases to tell you about this week. And in case you ever doubted that Memphis is still the home of the blues well, just wait. First a couple of non-blues releases. Though he didn't win last month's Grammy Urban Showcase [that honor went to 10-year-old singer Chioma], rapper Radical T certainly attracted some new fans with his take on "Memphis-school" hip-hop. Radical T's new disc, Straight From the Jungle, is also reflective of the city's distinct rap sound, with more of an emphasis on songs than either of the coast schools and featuring Radical's playboy persona, which stands in stark contrast to the gangsta image permeating most major-label rap. Almost completely on the other side of the musical spectrum, punk band Pisshorse has just released their first 7-inch single, "Right Now" b/w "Devil Been Creepin Round My Back Door," on Resort Theory Records. Pisshorse has been knocking around town for about two-and-a-half years now, becoming a mainstay of Barristers. In fact, look for Pisshorse to show up on the upcoming Barristers live compilation being produced by Chris Walker. And now the blues: Wilroy Sanders did Memphis blues fans a big favor when he reopened the city's most famous juke joint, Green's Lounge, a few months back. But it wasn't entirely a self-less act on the part of the former member of the Fieldstones; as proprietor, Sanders now has the luxury of booking his band whenever he wants. Well now, in case you haven't been able to get down to Green's, you can get a taste of the excitement Sanders and his Memphis Soul Blues Band can create on a Saturday night, on their new 7-inch single, Live At Green's Lounge, featuring "Saddle Up My Pony" and "Green Lounge Shuffle." In addition to The Last Chance Jug Band's Shake That Thing! [see music feature], Inside Sounds has continued its fine tradition of recording local artists with Sandy Carroll's Memphis Rain. Like the jug-band record, Memphis Rain evokes the city's musical past, with Carroll's vocals recalling such barrelhouse blues mamas as Bessie Smith, Ma Rainey, and Alberta Hunter. But as produced by Luther Allison sideman James Solberg (with two songs co-written by Allison), this CD also has a firm grasp on the modern side of the blues. At a time when our connection to the original Delta blues players is becoming more and more strained, the "discovery" of "Homesick" James Williams may seem God-sent. A native of nearby Somerville, "Homesick" James' career as a blues musician spans some 67 years and includes a five-year stint playing in his cousin Elmore James' band. Working mostly out of Chicago, "Homesick" James has mostly played in others' groups, but now Icehouse has released his Words of Wisdom, an excellent album that showcases this living bridge between the Delta and Chicago blues styles. Ecko Records has released another album of super-smooth soul music from Bill Coday titled Can't Get Enough. A native of Coldwater, Mississippi, Coday is a veteran of the blues and soul circuits, having worked with Son Seals and, most prominently, Denise LaSalle. And finally, former Fat Possum co-founder Peter Lee has just issued the first two releases on his new Oxford, Mississippi label, Midnight Creeper Records. Ray Drew's Too Much Lovin is an energetic and atmospheric set of soul blues that shows that the guitarist learned a lot from his former employer, Bobby "Blue" Bland. And on his disc, Got To Deal With The Blues, harmonica player/songwriter John Weston gets to showcase those and his most remarkable talent -- his eerily evocative, crooner-esque vocals.

You've Got That Juggin' Feeling New releases from the Last Chance Jug Band and Gutbucket cast a new light on a forgotten chapter of Memphis music history. by Mark Jordan washtub, a washboard, a brown jug, a broom handle, some wire, and maybe even a frying pan and a raccoon skin. It could be a pile of junk you haul down from the attic, the makings of a not particularly successful garage sale. Or, during some truly desperate hours in high school, it might even be the makings of a last-minute science project, one which will probably earn a D. But in the hands and imaginations of just the right musicians, these sundry goods could be the instrumentation for a rousing, raucous party band -- a jug band. Widely popular in the '20s and '30s and as part of the folk revival of '60s, jug-band music has been out of the popular-music vein for decades, gone the way of the polka and kept alive only by a few die-hard folkies. But two new local releases have put the spotlight back on the jug. One of the local jug-band torchbearers over the years has been Mud Boy and the Neutrons, a most-of-the-time rock and blues band which would occasionally strap on the washboard and bring out the jug. It is only fitting, then, that the sons of one of the members of that group, Jim Dickinson, have also taken up jug-band music. Luther and Cody Dickinson and their musical cohort Paul Taylor have been jamming around town for almost three years now as deep-blues jug band Gutbucket, and now the group has released its first jug-band recording, Where's The Man With The Jive, which features covers of classic jug numbers by Gus Cannon and Will Shade. "It all came about because our dog attacked Cody, and he was stitched up," says Luther, explaining how the band, long known as D.D.T., first came to experiment with a more rootsy, acoustic sound when Cody was unable to play the drum kit. "And once Paul got going on washtub bass, that was it. According to Luther, Gutbuc-ket gives the trio a chance to explore new material and sounds, including -- unusual for a jug band -- their vocal harmonies. "It's just such a bare-boned approach, and the songs are real songs with great melodies," says Luther. By its strictest definition, a jug band is a group that features a player blowing into a jug to produce the band's bass sound, but the term may apply to any group utilizing a combination of seemingly "found" instruments, like the washtub bass, and more conventional instruments like guitar and harmonica. "The jug is partly just a symbol or a convenient moniker," says University of Memphis music professor David Evans. In addition to studying it as an academic, Evans plays jug-band music, too, as the vocalist/guitarist/kazoo player of the Last Chance Jug Band, a group that also includes Jobie Kilzer on harmonica and jug, Dick Raichelson on piano, Tom Janzen on drums, and, until recently, Richard Graham on one-string bass, washboard, percussion, and jug. Though devoted to the jug-band form, the group's latest release, Shake That Thing!, shows the Last Chance Jug Band isn't afraid to contemporize the sound. "We are an updated jug band in the sense that we play through amps or into microphones," says Evans. "We have drums, and we use piano, which certainly weren't common among the early bands." Scholars believe that a form of jug-band music sprang up around the turn of the century in the traveling minstrel and medicine shows that were crisscrossed the South at that time. Originally playing the pop tunes of the day, by the '20s, jug bands had expanded their repertoire to include the blues and jazz. With the intoduction of records, jug-band music became hugely popular among black and white audiences alike, the novelty of the instrumentation undoubtedly driving much of its appeal. The first popular jug bands came out of Louisville, but by far the most successful and important groups were the blues-rooted Memphis ones -- Jed Davenport's Beale Street Jug Band, Will Shade's Memphis Jug Band, and Gus Cannon's Jug Stompers, which at one time featured Cannon playing a banjo-like instrument made from the aforementioned frying pan and raccoon skin. "That was really a magical place and time for jug bands," says Eddie Dattel, whose Inside Sounds record label released the Last Chance Jug Band's CD and previously, on its Memphis Archives imprint, a collection of Memphis Jug Band recordings titled State of Tennessee Blues. Unfortunately, that magical time didn't last. The Depression, changing fads, and the African-American community's growing sensitivity to anything connected with the minstrel days meant the end of jug bands' popularity, though some groups would continue performing until the '60s folk revival brought things around their way again. "There is a timeless appeal to jug-band music," says Evans. "It's fun; it's informal. A lot of the pieces have a particular beat that is good for dancing . Judging by the people we see tapping their feet at shows, it seems to appeal to a broad cross-section of folks. The responses in the form of dancing really cross all the social distinctions."