(l-r) Don Flemons, Rhiannon Giddens, and Justin Robinson

Today, I have a special treat in the form of a guest blog by my fiancee, Noelle Phillips.  Besides being an award-winning journalist, Noelle has a deep appreciation for music and a keen ear for new, unique voices in nearly every genre of popular music.  She introduced me to M.I.A. long before “Paper Airplanes” hit it big in the United States and sold me on Cage The Elephant when I was about to dismiss them as just another wimpy, indy rock band.  Also, remind me to tell you about the time we managed to get backstage after a B.B. King performance to snag the blues legend’s autograph and some hors d’oeuvres off his snack tray.  I’ve already decided on who should be the first female recipient of The Unsung Bad Mother****** Award, and I’m trying to get Noelle to write that entry.  In the meantime, enjoy her discussion of the gifted and brilliant Carolina Chocolate Drops.  (She didn’t mention it, but they do a mean cover of Blu Cantrell’s “Hit ‘em Up Style,” too.)

If you think Auto-Tune showcases excellent musicianship….

If you think a series of “uhs” and “yeahs” is display of vocal prowess…

If you think fiddles and banjos and bones belong to old white hillbillies…

Then do not listen to the Carolina Chocolate Drops.

But if you’re interested in the roots of Black music that gave us rock-and-roll, then pay attention to the history lesson the Drops offer listeners.

This trio of Black musicians from North Carolina makes its living playing old-time country and blues. But they bring a youthful exuberance with an understanding and respect toward their roots.

In the words of Justin Robinson, who plays fiddle, “Tradition is a guide, not a jailer. We play an older tradition but we are modern musicians.”

Earlier this year, the Carolina Chocolate Drops released its fourth album, “Genuine Negro Jig.” The record is a banjo-picking, fiddle-sawing, bone-tapping, throat-singing salute to the history of Black music. The Drops teach us a thing or two about the rich musical history of Black America, long before Wonder Mike, Big Bank Hank, and Master Gee treated audiences to a “Rapper’s Delight” and even before Chuck Berry duck-walked across the stage for the first time.

The Drops are Dom Flemmons, Rhiannon Giddens and Justin Robinson.

The three met in 1995 at the Black Banjo Gathering in Asheville , N.C. Flemmons, who was living in Arizona at the time, learned about the gathering on a Yahoo! chat site. Giddens and Robinson were from North Carolina .

After Flemmons decided to make North Carolina his home, the three began making weekly trips to Mebane , N.C. to sit on the front porch of Joe Thompson’s home. Thompson, an elderly Black man, learned to play the fiddle as part of a family tradition. He spent his life jamming on the fiddle after long days of field work. The Drops have toured with Thompson, recorded one album with him and play one of his songs – “Cindy Gal” — on “Genuine Negro Jig.”

Flemmons first became fascinated with folk music after watching a PBS documentary on the history of rock and roll. He began listening to other forms of roots music and borrowed a banjo from a friend. The banjo was missing a fifth string so Flemmons taught himself to play with four. Other musicians at the Black Banjo Gathering explained the banjo has five strings and taught him how to properly play it.

Giddens began her musical career as an opera singer in college. But she got into the folk scene after seeing a flyer for an English Country Dance. She was attracted to it because she was a fan of Jane Austen’s books. After learning to call the dance moves, Giddens picked up the fiddle. Her first band was Celtic but she expanded her horizons after hearing about Thompson. Her vocal chops are showcased on the song “Reynadine” on the Jig album.

Robinson started playing violin when he was 8 years old because his parents were classical music fans. Later, he turned his violin into a fiddle after listening to country music. He sought out Thompson, realizing time could be short to learn from a man who already was in his 80s. Thompson chided Robinson for not bringing a banjo player so he started bringing other people, including Flemmons and Giddens. Thus began the Drops apprenticeship under Thompson.

Today, the band travels full-time and this summer they’ll hit up music festivals across the United States . If you’re hear they’re coming to your area, they’ll be worth price of admission.

Film icon, Pam Grier, celebrated her birthday this week on Wednesday, May 26th.  For the occasion, Noelle Phillips, joins us for the second week in a row to offer a music commentary on overlooked portion of the career of this legendary actress.

We all know Pam Grier earned her place in Blaxploitation lore as an actress, starring in roles in films such as Foxy Brown and Coffy.

But did  you know she could sing?

In 1971, Grier was cast in her second film, The Big Dollhouse, as a character named “Grear.” (Yeah, we agree the screenplay writers must have blown their creative juices by the time they got around to naming this character.) Not only did Grier have a large roll in this film about women serving life sentences in a tropical prison, but she sang the movie’s theme song, “Long Time Woman.”

The movie, The Big Dollhouse, was directed by Jack Hill and produced by Roger Corman. I sure would like to know what led them to cast Grier in this role that arguably launched her career and how did they discover that she could sing. Or, did they hire her to sing and then discover she was an even better actress?

“Well, 99 years is a long, long time

Well, look at me I’ll never be free,” Grier sings in this track.

The song was written by Hall Daniels, who was a co-director of Bax Music in Torrance, Calif., with Les Baxter. This firm’s catalogue still exists today, specializing in eclectic sounds. And this track from Grier certainly can be qualified as eclectic. The song opens with rolling bongos that capture the tropical vibe the movie’s director was aiming for.

In the film, Grier and a posse of other female prisoners plot how to escape the captive hands of their sadistic wardens. The enlist two sleazy men, who are snack vendors making rounds through the prison. The film, which is a classic in the wome-in-prison-exploitation genre, includes all of the sexual innuendo one would expect from a group of super hot women locked away for life in a steamy prison environment.

In the song “Long Time Woman,” there’s little to criticize about Grier’s singing. Still, she doesn’t possess the strong, it-comes-from-deep-inside sound that other 1970s soul singers could showcase.

But Grier came from a singing background. While a student at UCLA, she sang back-up for singer-composer Bobby Womack. In keeping with the Blaxploitation theme,  Womack’s composition and 1972 recording of the song “Across 110th Street” was the theme song of the film Jackie Brown (1997), which marked a major comeback for Grier in the starring and title role. She was nominated for a Golden Globe and an NAACP Image Award for her performance. In fact, director Quentin Tarantino used “Long Time Woman” on his soundtrack.

As far as we know, this is the only song credit on Grier’s remarkable resume. But it’s enough to make us wonder what her story would be like if she had made a career of her singing rather than her acting.