THE SPACE IN TIME: The first time I saw Leo Kottke live in concert was a long time ago on a planet far, far away -- in 1970 in suburban Philadelphia’s erstwhile hallowed folk-and-blues coffee house, “The Main Line.” At one point between numbers as he swiveled on his stool to change guitars, Kottke accidentally banged one of them against the boom mic, which was hot at the time, resulting in a loud “bang.”
His face took on a look of shock. He cradled the guitar in his arms as if it were a curvaceous woman, and after a moment of silence and a deep breath whispered to the crowd, “You always hurt the one you love.”
I have never forgotten the obvious deep affection he expressed for his instrument as he examined it for nicks. To this day I refer to my own guitars as the lovers that keep me warm at 1 a.m. when my wife doesn’t.
THE MUSIC: When Kottke plays his custom-made 12 string Kottke-model Taylor guitar, the unique, sweet music has a tone all its own. His traditional American steel-string acoustic guitar moves, swings, caresses and drives with Zen-like depth and entrancing power mixed with tenderness. At times it's hard to imagine you're listening to one man ‘s fingers gliding over the frets and strings. The experience borders on the religious.
If you like original and innovative acoustic instrumental guitar arrangements of "roots"-inspired American folk and blues music, you simply must get a hold of some of Kottke's early albums,
most especially his first from 1969, a solo -- “Leo Kottke: 6-and 12-String Guitar.” But beware -- Kottke's music is not the scratchy, hard-to-listen-to stuff favored by old-guard discographers standing by the Victrola snapping the galluses on their Big Dad overalls. He takes the genre from the interesting to the spectacular with nothing more than his instrument.
With his guitar habitually tuned-down a step-and-a-half, Kottke's eclectic blend of acoustic musical styles from Folk to Delta Blues to Country to Ballads to Jazz to Classical has a rich "bottom" to it that is unmistakable and haunting. There is MUCH more harmony and rhythm in Kottke's clean music than in traditional folk or blues, which is what makes him so addictive to listen to. He blends thumb and finger styles of the traditionalists with scintillating slide riffs, 12-string richness, and either pounding rhythm or gentle swaying depending on the song.
Consider the range covered by my two favorite cuts on this album, cut # 5, “Sailor’s Grave on the Prairie”, and cut #12, “Busted Bicycle.”
The former is a slow, weaving, full-bodied, dirge-like paen to the vast swaying land-ocean of the American Prairie that is so evocative it is one of very few slow musical pieces that accelerates my pulse. It is interesting to note – if you listen carefully – that Kottke’s concentration on this masterpiece is so strong that he doesn’t miss a single beat in this number’s 5/4 time signature when a string breaks loudly just before the coda. (That he kept it on the record is testimony either to his lack of funds so early in his career to record it again, or to his sense of humor.)
The latter is an up-tempo tour-de-force of finger-picking and slide wizardry that is toe-tapping and jaw-dropping. Kottke’s combination of high speed finger-picking and slide guitar work is exemplary, and he even manages to work in a ditty-styled section in the middle of this blazing number.
THE MAN: The 55-year-old Kottke is not a new name on the music scene. But despite a modicum of commercial success he remains somewhat of a cult figure. Like so many of his inspirations and mentors, Kottke seems content to have contributed to a uniquely American musical repository.
Most of his early recordings, including this one on the now-defunct "roots" label Takoma, eschew any attempt at mass sales. Nonetheless, though Takoma has ceased to exist, Kottke’s early recordings including this one are easy to find on the likes of amazon.com, CD Now, half.com, etc.
A self-taught guitarist who started on the trombone, Kottke has drawn heavily on the likes of Leadbelly, Robbie Basho, Ralph Towner, Joe Pass, and, of course, his true mentor, the inimitable John Fahey, founder of Takoma in a Washington, DC suburb in 1959.
But Kottke has also drawn inspiration from contemporary stylists as varied as Ricki Lee Jones, Lyle Lovett, Big Head Todd and the Monsters, and The Violent Femmes. Not an easy man to categorize. He was so concerned with his sound that he reluctantly switched away from Gibson guitars in the mid 60s after saying he found the bracing in the newer B-45 models didn't measure up to earlier standards.
And as was the case with so many young "folkies" of the early 60s, like Fahey he used to draw heavily on the remnants of the "Beat" generation for his sense of humor -- a dry, sometimes acerbic and off-tangent wit that shows up in his live performances and his early LP liner notes. I don't know if he does that any more, but the Essential Kottke still seems to exude a hard-to-place combination of old-line existential sarcasm with the deep religious fervor that permeates so much traditional American music.
This particular collection is Kottke's single most defining and flawless work. It's also known as the Armadillo record because of its cover design.
On the original Takoma LP, Kottke's liner notes claim that his voice sounds like "geese farts on a muggy day." Well, not quite...but close. Which is why "Leo Kottke: 6-and 12-String Guitar" is such a treasure -- 14 cuts of pure Kottke guitar magic sans vocals. From the mysterious "Driving of the Year Nail", to the power of "Last of the Arkansas Greyhounds" and particularly the incredible tour-de-force testosterone-laced classic "Vaseline Machine Gun", Kottke also pulls out haunting melodies like "Crow River Waltz." And in the midst of it all is his 12-string adaptation of Bach's "Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring."
If you come across this album, pick it up at all costs.
THE NOTE OF CAUTION: Kottke has experimented over the years, and some of his releases vary in general quality of content because of his insistence in pushing the envelope, especially with his voice, which may be as bad as Bert Jansch’s. Even as hard-core a fan as me has occasionally bought one and, frankly, never listened to it again. Do not be dissuaded if this has happened to you. I would urge first-time listeners to stick to "Leo Kottke: 6-and-12-String Guitar," the Capitol release "Greenhouse", or the more recent Rhino Records Leo Kottke anthology.
And if he's ever in the neighborhood, do go see him. It's a wonderful evening, especially if the setting is rather intimate.
Also, if you're REALLY into him, try and get a hold of John Fahey's seminal Takoma album "Blind Joe Death", which he pressed in 1959 (100 copies for a total of $300 in the initial run). Listening to that, you'll see where Kottke is coming from very clearly. Takoma's inventory was purchased by Fantasy Records in 1995, so that's probably a good place to start.
PS: This review is a re-written, more detailed, updated revision of an earlier review posted two-and-half years ago on another site.
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I am completely oblivious to most music and have never heard of this chap before, but I thoroughly enjoyed reading your review: I even learnt something, which is a rather rare event in itself! Thanks, Kirsty
Tickly 13.04.2003 14:47
I hadn't heard of him - but he sounds wonderful. Tickly
29th_Candidate 13.04.2003 11:43
Re-write, shme-write, Nick; a masterpiece like this only improves with age (and rewrites, -heh.) I didn't know you were such an enthusiast. I can't wait to read your future ops on Roy Milton, Joe Liggins, T-Bone Walker, Charles Brown, James Burton, etc.. I was lucky to have a dad who is an enthusiast, else I'd probably have never dug deeper than Albert Lee, Robbie Robertson (with The Band,) Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jeff Beck, Slowhand, Hendrix and a handful of the comparatively latter-day guitar greats. I've got a bunch of 1/2-ops written I might post when Ciao/ep add the albums, but my enthusiasm tanks when I consider how few people would have the musical wherewithal or passion to appreciate what I have to write about them and the manner in which I'd write it. Your virtuoso review indicates you may be a rare exception to this rule. As it stands, I had people complaining that I got too obsessive with the relentless "technicality" and detail of my "Light My Fire" review's musical composition deconstruction and analysis, and timing exploration. :::sigh::: ...More please. --29th