Peter Parcek: Most Of The Time

The contemporary blues community is densely populated with posers long on affectation and short on authenticity. Not so Peter Parcek for whom the blues carries truths that resonate in such a deep and abiding way that his own musical articulations, plus those of kindred spirits within and without the genre, become expressions straight from the heart and the soul.

In fact, as demonstrated on Most Of The Time, this native of Connecticut—who moved to England in the Sixties just in time for the blues boom to echo throughout the British Isles—may very well suffer for an embarrassment of riches; the surfeit of considerable talent at his disposal renders moot the blemishes pockmarking this 78-minute-plus album. 

Accordingly, it is really not so execrable a sign of misappropriation that Parcek would claim "Twistified" as his own song. While it is true Blind Joe a/k/a Arthur Reynolds wrote its apparent source material, "Outside Woman Blues," but the same number was also commandeered by Eric Clapton as the basis for a cut of the same name as well as "Lawdy Mama" (credited as a traditional)on Cream's sophomore studio outing Disraeli Gears (Atco, 1967). The history of this number's lineage then only adds to its durability, not to mention its fitting familiarity as this LP's opener.

Quite apart from antecedents including Howlin' Wolf and John Lee Hooker, "How Many Times" ripples with echoes of blues standards aplenty too. Nevertheless, the premium sound here, produced by the front man and Patric DiCenso, not only distracts from any suspect precedent, but also supplies ready immersion in a rare depth and presence of audio (for which Doug Krebs deserves great kudos in preserving with his mixing).

More effective, more direct and far more poetic than the both of those selections is this supremely nuanced take on Bob Dylan's "Most of the Time." Little wonder it was designated the title of this LP: Parcek channels the emotional and intellectual shading of the tune with his finely-etched guitar work, while his singing carries the quietly wry self- awareness at the heart of the Nobel Laureate's composition.

Likewise, the take of "I Don't Worry 'Bout A Thing." Mose Allison's statement of personal policy continues the deceptively confessional theme in such a knowing way, it sets up the catharsis that comes through the rollicking, horn-accented instrumental "Just Play Rhythm, Baby." It is at this point that the album begins to develop tangible momentum. The insertion of John Hiatt's "Mississippi Phone Booth" suggests a Parcek album comprised exclusively of material from contemporary sources.

As this astute cover further evolves into a graphic point of reference, it is immediately followed by an Elmore James co-write, "Stranger Blues." The deeply haunting nature of that piece permeates the performance and spreads into its surroundings.

Thus, in a tangible sign of the continuity emerging from the baker's dozen cuts of Most Of The Time, the words of "Poor Boy" carry a similarly ghostly air, a foreboding atmosphere that also (more obviously) pervades "When I'm Dead & Gone." Accordingly, so joyously rendered as is yet another instrumental track, "Cold In Hand" seems out of place, the thought arises that Parcek should consider assembling an entire LP of such numbers (or should have reconfigured this effort into a double album) . 

The esteemed guests that contribute to the former—North Mississippi Allstars co-founder Luther Dickinson on guitar and long-time Willie Nelson harmonica player Mickey Raphael—would surely relish participating in such a project. And it is further notable that the two bonus tracks on this Lightnin' Record, "Lord Help The Poor & Needy" and Freddie King and Sonny Thompson's "Swooshy," also arrive sans singing, consequently resounding of their own accord.

The core ensemble present on this record would likely acquit themselves equally stylishly on any Parcek project. Keyboardist Tom West, bassist Marc HIckox: and drummer Tim Carman present themselves as a most formidable unit throughout and never more so than when they, alone with the bandleader, tear through a smoldering rendition of Mississippi Fred McDowell's "61 Highway." 

Shimmering electric piano decorating this subdued interpretation of Bill Withers' touching tribute to "Grandma's Hands" makes for a quietly dramatic punctuation as the last formal cut track of the album. Its placement, not to mention the delicacy of its musicianship, embellishes the virtues of Most Of The Time.