Early Albert Hammond, Sixto Rodriguez Songs Featured On The Family Dogg’s “A Way of Life: Anthology”

Originally posted on The Second Disc:

Family Dogg - Anthology

Few pop songwriters have proven as adaptable as Albert Hammond.  His string of hits dates from the 1960s straight through the 1990s, and his durable compositions continue to be recorded today.  Yet one chapter of the Hammond legacy has never been properly anthologized until now: his tenure with the British pop group The Family Dogg.  Cherry Red’s RPM label has just delivered A Way of Life: Anthology 1967-1976, named for the band’s U.K. Top 10 hit and including all of the band’s recordings on two CDs.

The London-born, Gibraltar-raised Albert Hammond had recorded in the late 1950s as a member of The Diamond Boys, but came into his own in the 1970s scoring numerous successes as a songwriter with partner Mike Hazlewood (The Hollies’ “The Air That I Breathe,” The Pipkins’ “Gimme Dat Ding,” The Fortunes’ “Freedom Come, Freedom Go”) even as he was carving out a successful solo career…

View original 1,450 more words

About these ads
Posted in Blogs, News

Rodriguez Label Chief: ‘Our Dealings with Clarence Avant Were Always Positive’ | AUDIO KORNER

Light in the Attic’s Matt Sullivan, whose reissues prefigured the Oscar-winning documentary, laments the story’s tragic ending.

Matt Sullivan, 38, is a true believer. The head of Light in the Attic, the reissue label he founded in 2003 with partner Joe Wright in Seattle, released Sixto Rodriguez’s two albums, his 1970 debut, Cold Fact, and the 1971 follow-up Coming From Reality, in August 2008 and May 2009, just about the time the late Oscar-winning filmmaker Malik Bendjelloul began working on his documentary about the Detroit singer-songwriter who had become a cult figure in South Africa as a symbol of the fight against apartheid.

The first time Sullivan heard Rodriguez’s “Sugarman,” from a compilation sent to him by his friend, Irish producer/musician David Holmes, he was hooked.

“I couldn’t get enough of it,” says Sullivan who launched the label with This Is Madness, the 1971 sophomore record by hip-hop precursors the Last Poets, and has released more than 150 albums since.

Sullivan then e-mailed South African record store owner Stephen “Sugar” Segerman, who put him in touch with Rodriguez and his family, as the fan tried to figure out how to license the albums and get the musician, who didn’t make a penny from all the bootlegs sold in South Africa and Australia, paid.

The search brought him into contact with Rodriguez’s original producers, Dennis Coffey and Mike Theodore, and music business veteran Clarence Avant, the one-time Motown head who released the two Rodriguez albums on his own Sussex label, most famously the original home of Bill Withers.

Avant refused to answer Matt’s e-mails or phone calls, but Sullivan’s persistence finally landed him a meeting with the elusive label head, who agreed to meet during a wedding anniversary trip to Seattle. After seeing the kind of publicity Light in the Attic generated for its releases, Avant relented and consented to license the two albums to the indie company.

If there’s a villain in Searching for Sugar Man, it’s the flippant Avant, who brushes off talk of contracts signed 40 years ago, though, according to Sullivan, his attitude belies the fervent belief the executive had in Rodriguez and his music, going so far as to ask him to change his name to Jesus Rodriguez to avoid a previous publishing deal, a case now in the courts.

Read more at Rodriguez Label Chief: ‘Our Dealings with Clarence Avant Were Always Positive’ | AUDIO KORNER

Tagged with: , , , , ,
Posted in Blogs, Light In The Attic (Music Label), Mabu Vinyl (Music Store), Reviews & Interviews, Searching For Sugar Man Film

‘Searching for Sugarman’ Director Dead: THR Traces Malik Bendjelloul’s Final Days – Hollywood Reporter

Malik Bendjelloul

Malik Bendjelloul

After the death of Malik Bendjelloul, who threw himself in front of a subway train, a THR writer heads to Sweden to talk to his friends, who reveal the perfectionist’s quirks — from eating the same breakfast for six months to walking one lap around his apartment before and after work — and open up about his fear, doubt and their own surprise: “He was the least likely to take his life.” 

This story first appeared in the June 20 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine.

In the late afternoon on May 13, a young man with a mop of soft brown hair and a delicate frame stood on the platform of the Solna Centrum metro stop in Stockholm, Sweden, waiting for the Blue Line. It was rush hour, and the station, one of the deepest in Stockholm’s rail system, was filling up with commuters leaving the city. At the bottom of a long escalator, cavelike tunnel walls had been painted with elaborate pastoral scenes from the 1970s: lush green hillsides studded with fir trees and a giant yellow moon rising against a vast, dark red sky. Vignettes of Swedish life were overlaid against this Nordic backdrop — chain-saw-wielding loggers presiding over a recent clear-cut, a twin-engine prop plane taking flight, and a solitary violinist standing in a field pondering the city’s encroachment. At one end of the platform was a sign. “Stop!” it warned. “Unauthorized people prohibited on the tracks.”

Read more at ‘Searching for Sugarman’ Director Dead: THR Traces Malik Bendjelloul’s Final Days – Hollywood Reporter.

Tagged with: , , ,
Posted in News, Newspapers & Magazines, Searching For Sugar Man Film

Tanelorn Festival, Australia – Oct 1-5, 1981

Rodriguez played at the Tanelorn Festival in Australia in 1981.

Tanelorn

 

 

Read more at http://beccibird.blogspot.com.au/2013/09/sex-drugs-and-rock-and-roll-except-for.html

Tagged with:
Posted in Blogs, Performances

Searching for Sugarman in Manila | a+arax:a

From a+arax:a

Searching for Sugarman is quite possibly one of the most moving documentaries of all time. Winner at the Academy, BAFTA and Sundance Film Festival Awards, the film also won rave reviews and other awards all across the US and around the world. The death of its young, talented director, Malik Bendjelloul, in Sweden last May only adds to the heartbreaking mystique of this project, which is bound to be a classic in filmmaking.

I heard about the film when it was nominated for the Oscar, and nearly watched it during a residency in Spain in January 2013, where one of the fellows was an Academy member and had brought along copies of films he was going to vote on. We never got the chance to watch it, and I must confess I wasn’t that interested in the film, my skepticism mostly coming from my distrust for the Academy, its hype and its marketing machine. I never thought about it until I heard of Bendjelloul’s death. I was in Paris, and the outpouring of emotion in the French online press rekindled my curiosity about the film.

A few days ago, I happened to find a copy of the DVD at the New York Performing Arts Library, and decided to check it out. As I was watching the documentary that evening, about fifteen minutes into the story, I nearly fell off my seat.

As many of you know, Searching for Sugarman is about Mexican-American songwriter Sixto Rodriguez, who released two albums in the early ‘70s to resounding indifference, and who sank to obscurity in the US. But not in South Africa, where, unbeknownst to him, he became a leading voice of the anti-apartheid movement, and where he was virtually a superstar. The film takes you through this fascinating narrative of rediscovery and resurrection, and gives you such a deep insight into the soul of this immensely gifted, humble and generous man.

The film plays much of his music as the soundtrack, and this was where my experience became my own personal journey of rediscovery itself. Back in 1971, the year before Marcos declared martial law, my siblings and I were big fans of this unknown, mysterious singer named Sixto Rodriguez. Like the South Africans, nobody in Manila knew who he was or where he came from. In fact, no one in Manila was even aware how popular his music was in South Africa. But he was possibly the biggest hit of that year, at least among a certain crowd of, shall we say, more sophisticated listeners. His single, the heart-rending I Think of You, played every hour on the hour over DZRJ and DZUW, the twin stations that, back then, played the most cutting edge music of the time. These were the only two stations my siblings and I listened to, and I would spend many hours just waiting for the song to come on. I remember my younger sister Diana coming home one day to tell me she had a surprise: I Think of You had just been released as a single, with the equally haunting To Whom It May Concern on Side B. We played the single over and over, never getting tired of it. Diana even learned to play the chords on a guitar, and often sang it to me. Plucking the opening bars of I Think of You became our standard for guitar playing: Diana did it well, but my fingers always got tangled and I sucked. We kept wondering who this singer was: I thought he was probably Filipino, possibly a reclusive artist from Baguio, where all the best folk singers were coming from. Diana managed to find a rather blurry picture in a local music magazine, and I thought that face confirmed my suspicion, that this was some kind of mystery Filipino artist. We even came up with a fantastic theory, that Rodriguez was probably the pseudonym of one of the DZUW DJs, and that his music was produced and recorded by the station itself, for why else would the other stations not play it?

I called my older sister in Los Angeles to tell her of my wonderful discovery. It turned out she and my oldest brother also were big fans of Rodriguez. My oldest brother, who back then had a rock and roll band, in fact used to play his music at the band’s gigs all the time. My sister, who used to deejay at DZUP, the student station of the University of the Philippines, had a copy of the entire album, Coming to Reality, and swears she had played the album so much at the station her copy was virtually all worn down.

The fate of Rodriguez’s music in Manila did not end as gloriously as it did in South Africa. In 1972, Marcos declared martial law and sequestered all radio stations. That put a definite end to any airplay of Rodriguez’s two hits (To Whom It May Concern was already starting to pick up a lot of notice as well). Marcos not only banned rock music, but also portraits of any musicians with long hair, calling the look decadent and demonic. Rodriguez, with his lush, long hair, would certainly have been censored. The military raided the UP campus, and I believe everything in the radio station was either confiscated or destroyed. I never knew, until I saw Searching for Sugarman, that most of Rodriguez’s music was anti-establishment and political, but perhaps the Marcos intelligence people knew, and that was enough reason to put him on the censors’ radar.

That definitely consigned Rodriguez’s music to extinction in Manila. But for years thereafter I continued to wonder who this musician was. I used to keep asking Diana, “Remember that Sixto Rodriguez, the brilliant guy who just vanished into thin air?” We didn’t know about the spectacular myths that sprouted in South Africa about his alleged death; we just presumed this guy probably just decided to stop singing, and wanted to be left alone.

Rediscovering Sixto Rodriguez in Searching for Sugarman has closed over forty years of wondering and questioning for me. I still love the music, anachronistic as it may sound today. These songs were part of the soundtrack of our years of innocence, the final year before the Philippines would be plunged into one of the darkest eras in its history. It amazes me to realize how, back then, we shared nearly the same aspirations as the South Africans, though their struggle was vastly different from ours. We wanted to change the world, we wanted love to reign supreme, and we paid attention to the musicians who told us we could and we should. We would never be so young or so hopeful again.

Eric Gamalinda

Tagged with: , , ,
Posted in Blogs, Searching For Sugar Man Film

The triumph and tragedy of Searching for Sugar Man – Telegraph

Searching for Sugar Man is a brilliant testament to the briefly glittering talents of its director and star

Fleeting fame: Malik Bendjelloul and Sixto Rodriguez at the Critics' Choice Movie Awards, Los Angeles in January 2013 Photo: Rex Features

Fleeting fame: Malik Bendjelloul and Sixto Rodriguez at the Critics’ Choice Movie Awards, Los Angeles in January 2013 Photo: Rex Features

In 2006, an aspiring young documentary maker called Malik Bendjelloul left his job at Swedish state TV and went to Africa in search of material for his first feature. He eventually found himself in Cape Town, where a record store owner told him the story of Sixto Rodriguez, a brilliant Mexican-American singer-songwriter whose two albums, released in the early 1970s, had unexpectedly bombed in the US — but, by some magic, later found an audience in apartheid South Africa, where they sold hundreds of thousands of copies. As a consequence, Rodriguez became more popular than Elvis in the country, and inspired a generation of anti-establishment songwriters.

For years, the store owner explained, listeners in South Africa had presumed that Rodriguez was dead: apartheid censorship laws meant that information about him was scant, and rumours circulated that he’d committed suicide on stage somewhere in America. But then, in the late 1990s, a resourceful South African music journalist called Craig Bartholomew-Strydom started digging — and made an astonishing discovery.

It was hardly surprising that Bendjelloul grabbed this story with both hands and set to work turning it into a documentary, Searching for Sugar Man, named after his most famous song and released in 2012. What was surprising, at least to those who didn’t know him, was that this offbeat debut feature – written, directed, edited and co-produced by Bendjelloul – turned out to be a film of such elegance, poignancy and directorial sure-footedness. It was a hit with audiences and won dozens of awards, including the Oscar for Best Documentary in 2013, and seemed to promise Bendjelloul the kind of long, glittering career that had been denied to his subject.

Sadly, this was not to be the case: earlier this month, Bendjelloul committed suicide back at home in Sweden. He was thirty-six, and working on a project based on the conservationist Lawrence Anthony’s book The Elephant Whisperer.

Read more at The triumph and tragedy of Searching for Sugar Man – Telegraph.

Tagged with: , , ,
Posted in News, Newspapers & Magazines, Searching For Sugar Man Film

‘Searching for Sugar Man’ Star Facing Trouble Over Dealmaking Exclusive – Hollywood Reporter

Sixto Rodriguez - AP Images

Sixto Rodriguez – AP Images

The former chairman of Motown Records sues Sixto Rodriguez for representations made 45 years ago. Searching for Sugar Man star Sixto Rodriguez spent years out of the limelight until an Oscar-winning documentary showcased how the Michigan-born songwriter had secretly become a huge star in South Africa. Stardom has its price, though. Now, the newly famous musician is facing trouble over representations he made to music executives in the 1960s.The genesis of the legal dispute was first detailed by The Hollywood Reporter earlier this month. At the time, Rodriguez was not a party to the proceedings, but that is no longer the case. He’s now facing claims of breaching his songwriter deal.

Read more at ‘Searching for Sugar Man’ Star Facing Trouble Over Dealmaking Exclusive – Hollywood Reporter.

Posted in News, Newspapers & Magazines, Searching For Sugar Man Film
More Rodriguez Info
SugarMan.org on Facebook   SugarMan.org on Twitter   SugarMan.org on Youtube

Subscribe to SugarMan.org's Blog via RSS   SugarMan.org Daily News   SugarMan.org on Tumblr

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 27,221 other followers

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 27,221 other followers

%d bloggers like this: