If you're trying to escape the inevitable -- late fall's chill in the air -- then slip into an easy sense of denial by listening to Bobby Charles' self titled 1972 album.

The album is bursting with the organic sound of Bearsville, NY in the early 70s crossed with a dash of Cajun spice and that simple, ephemeral combination will warm you right up again.

Bobby Charles is an idiosyncratic songwriter from Louisiana who wrote "See You Later Alligator," known mainly as covered by Bill Haley and His Comets. Charles wasn't one for fame, and hid behind artists like Muddy Waters who covered his work, allowing him to pay the bills. I'm not sure why exactly, but somehow in the early 70s he ended up in Bearsville, New York, hanging out with the likes of Bob Dylan and The Band. That friendship is reflected in the album's sound as well as its production, which is by Rick Danko and John Simon (who also put out at least one excellent solo album). Members of The Band no doubt also contributed musically to this album, though with the exception of a songwriting credit for Danko, they are uncredited.

The album's songs are instantly pleasing through and through. They alternatively ramble along and bound forward energetically, but all the tracks glow with an animated heat that will take that chill right out of you: quite the accomplishment for such a hermetic kind of guy! There's also some sweet, sunshiney love songs on this album that'll have you feeling the sun on your shoulders again and make the return of spring seem not so far away anymore. It's all very bucolic and idyllic, as you shall see.

The past few days I have really been getting into the new Karen Dalton release, Green Rocky Road.

I am a big fan of Dalton's studio albums, It's So Hard To Tell Who's Going To Love You the Best (1969) and In My Own Time (1971). When I first heard them, they seemed like precious relics from the past. It also seemed unlikely anything else of hers would ever be uncovered and released, but now, just a few years later, there have been reissues and even video footage released!

Dalton's life story is very compelling. She seems to have lived on her own terms, with little compromise and a lot of eccentricity and self destruction. Basically, Karen was a free spirit. She was half Native American and grew up in Oklahoma. She married and had two kids by the time she was 21. She also played banjo and 12 string guitar. Dalton left her husband and moved to New York in time to take part in the early '60s Greenwich Village scene, playing clubs and hanging out with Bob Dylan and Fred Neil. Later, she moved north to Woodstock, where she was surrounded by a creative community that included her friends and sometime lovers The Band. Her two albums never sold well and she slipped into obscurity, heartbroken. Eventually, after a life of drinking and drug abuse, she died of AIDS in New York in 1993.

Her voice is unmistakable: a craggy, worn sound that cracks and warbles its way through old folk standards. Green Rocky Road is a 1963 recording of Karen in her home, something never intended for release. Her sound lends itself to this type of setting and is only enhanced by the intimacy of the recording. Dalton slowly winds her way through the songs, taking her time and allowing her throaty voice to coat the jingle jangle of her banjo accompaniment. It's well-known that Karen hated being in the studio, and though her two official albums are extremely well worth seeking out, there is a certain pleasure, a palpable ease and comfort that the informed listener can wring from her voice in these home recordings that may be lacking from the studio records. It's also enjoyable to listen for the idiosyncrasies of the recording: her mother's voice, a phone constantly ringing, picking errors that simply serve to remind me of the organic nature of song. Dalton's voice is haunting and like no one else's.

Last of the Blacksmiths are one of the most talented and moving bands here in the Bay Area.  Comprised of Nathan Wanta, Nigel Pavao and Bert Garibay, who play everything from mandolin to keys to guitar to drums, the band's sound rolls from The Band-like harmonies and depth to deep fried Southern- sounding funky interplay and heaviness. To check out their music, visit the band's Myspace page. Their latest record, Young Family Song, is available at Amoeba. I chatted with Nathan and Nigel recently about their influences, their love of punk and how the band came together.

Miss Ess: So, what have you been listening to lately?

NATHAN: Seems that this can change so drastically from day to day, but thinking of albums that I’ve listened to most in the past year or so, I’d say Allen Toussaint’s first three records probably win, followed by Dennis Wilson’s Pacific Ocean Blue, the Amazing Visions Black Fiction cd that Bert gave me,Terry Allen’s Juarez, Candi Staton’s Candi, Clifford Coulter’s, East Side San Jose, and I can’t leave out Eugene McDaniel’s Outlaw. Was pretty obsessed with the song “Cherrystones” for a while.  

This week has been so "meh." Overall there's been a definite lack of what I like to call "inspirado" and I just have not been totally on fire these last couple of days at all. 

That said, there have been a scant few sources of this aforementioned inspirado lately: 


I have been listening to the new Joanna Newsom EP, Joanna Newsom and the Ys Street Band, an awful lot. It's gorgeous, of course, esp her harmonies with Neal Morgan on "Clam, Crab, Cockle, Cowrie." That's my favorite thing at the moment.

  ... And there has been so much going on on my favorite show, The View, this week too, with Rosie announcing that, sadly, she is not coming back next season and Alec Baldwin trying to explain his heinous behavior towards his daughter. So much drama! 

One thing that has been the source of inspirado during this weirdo week has been the new Mavis Staples record, We'll Never Turn Back. How can anyone possibly not simply adore Mavis Staples? I feel like this album is even more powerful than some of her older ones.

All the songs are protest songs, and she wraps her gospel voice all around them and makes them so moving all over again. It was produced, seemingly like most things, by Ry Cooder. Mavis's voice will never grow old. The cd is supposed to be inspiring and I would definitely say it achieves its goal. When I hear Mavis Staples killing it like that, I want to go back for the billionth time to another one of my favorite things, The Band's film The Last Waltz to watch the Staples Singers perform "The Weight."  It's a perfect song, to me, the writing, the performance...the inspirado...