Over the Rhine’s ‘Blood Oranges in the Snow’: A Memorable Holiday Album

BY STEVEN ROSEN

CINCINNATI CITYBEAT/2014/citybeat.com

With Blood Oranges in the Snow, Over the Rhine treats the Christmas album as a major artistic statement that questions the holiday’s celebratory nature as much as it acknowledges it.

The married duo of Linford Detweiler and Karin Bergquist, augmented by other musicians, will perform songs from the new album Saturday at Taft Theatre. Lily & Madeleine will open. This will be Over the Rhine’s 16^th straight holiday show at the Taft, but this one’s a little different because of the new album. (They have recorded two previous Christmas records.) Longtime Cincinnati residents, they now live on Nowhere Farm in rural Highland County.

Typical of Over the Rhine, this new album has acoustic-oriented material with gently powerful melodies and sensitively introspective lead vocals, most but not all by Bergquist. But Blood Oranges can’t just be described as a typical Christmas album.

Not when the songs include the likes of Detweiler’s “My Father’s Body” (about Christmas Eve being the right time to visit his father’s grave) and “First Snowfall” (which begins with a description of “ragged and rusty” Christmas decorations and later references “two stray dogs runnin’ in Newport, Ky.”) The album also has a cover of Kim Taylor’s “Snowbirds,” about escaping winter, and Merle Haggard’s aching tale of working-class hardship, “If We Make It Through December.” The surface of Blood Oranges reflects great beauty, but melancholy ripples and rumbles underneath.

“Karin at one point while we were making this leaned over to me and said, ‘I think we’ve stumbled onto a new kind of music called Reality Christmas,’” Detweiler said, by phone from Cleveland before a recent show there.

“I think one aspect of that would be that losing a loved one or losing a job or any of these difficulties we deal with all year round doesn’t really go away during the holidays.

“And those of us who grew up with the Christmas story were taught that something amazingly redemptive happened with the birth of Jesus. Angels were singing, there was good news, peace was coming to earth, this tiny child was somehow going to break the cycle of violence to which we’re so addicted.

“When we kind of look at that ancient dream and the reality of where we are today, the distance between the two can seem like a wound too deep to heal, too wide to bridge,” he continued.

“I think a lot of our songs live in that distance, that tension between the two. Who doesn’t want to believe peace can come to earth and these wrongs put right and forgiveness would trump retaliation? But we’re not there.”

Still, Christmas does bring hope – if not for religious reasons, then because of the weather. December brings the possibility of a purifying snowfall, which occurs in the song “First Snowfall” when the flakes fall on a weary, downtrodden city. A city like Cincinnati.

“I lived right on Main Street in Over-the-Rhine for 10 years, right across the street from where Kaldi’s (coffee house) eventually started,” Detweiler recalled. “It could get a little dingy down there in December back in the day – trash blowing around in the street, lots of characters hanging out drinking out of brown paper bags.

“It seemed like there were a number of years when I lived in this little third-story apartment where the first big snowfall of the year was pretty significant and it seemed like it always started after dark. So it would come down and you’d see each one of the streetlights become its own snow globe. All of a sudden the city started going quiet and it always felt like something a little sacred was happening. To me, it always felt like a fresh start.”

The song’s reference to stray dogs in Newport comes from a the photograph that Michael Wilson — the Cincinnatian whose work has been featured on Over the Rhine album covers — took for the Replacements’ 1990 All Shook Down.

“That was one of the first Michael Wilson photographs I saw in his basement when I met him and was starting this band,” Detweiler said. “That seemed to embody something important to us. We’ve been haunted by that image for years and I was glad to finally get it into a song.”

After a quarter century as a musical act (sometimes with additional members), big changes are looming for Over the Rhine in 2015. “No way we can repeat those 25 years of touring and recording moving forward. So I think we need to reinvent or perish,” Detweiler said. “We’ve decided we need a creative home base. We are restoring a 140-year-old barn on another farm nearby. Nowhere Else will be second property.”

Somewhat modeled on what the late Levon Helm did in Woodstock by using a barn on his property for a series of Midnight Ramble concerts with guest musicians, Detweiler plans to convert that barn into a 150-200-seat concert/recording venue and with 12-15 shows per year featuring the duo and invited guests. Near to Nowhere Farm, the Nowhere Else property is in Clinton County.

“We’ll selectively begin introducing some of the amazing people we’ve met over the years, like Jack Henderson or Kim Taylor or Joe Henry or someone like Buddy Miller,” Detweiler said.

Work is set to get underway soon and be finished by the end of May. On May 24 and 25, Over the Rhine is staging special barn-raising concerts for fans – tickets are $100 per person with information available at www.overtherhine.com. Over the Rhine has previously turned to fans to fund its last three albums, The Long Surrender, Meet Me at the Edge of the World and Blood Oranges.

“Our fans have stepped forward and together we have learned we can make significant projects together,” Detweiler said. “We’re going to take this to the next level and really collaborate on building this barn together.

“We’ll see if we’re crazy. If it ends up not working at all, we’ll be selling two farms and moving back to the neighborhood of Over-the-Rhine. But we might not be able to afford that now.”

The Cincinnati Roots of Charles Brown’s “Please Come Home for Christmas”

Christmas song has mysterious local roots

Steven Rosen / Cincinnati Enquirer / Dec. 18, 2014

(Photo: Provided/Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Library and Archives)

A year doesn’t go by without a new recording of “Please Come Home for Christmas,” that melodically stately, melancholy ballad about not wanting to spend the holidays alone.

This year, there are at least two new versions – by country singer Darius Rucker and alternative rockers Landlady (with guest vocalist Amelia Meath). They join the impressive likes of the Eagles, Bon Jovi, Willie Nelson, James Brown and others in making the song well known.

But what’s not so well known is that the original version was recorded in 1960 at Evanston’s King Records studio by Charles Brown, an African-American blues musician known for his jazz-influenced piano playing and his genteel and politely forlorn vocal style.

Brown came and went from Cincinnati with little fanfare. And, as he claimed in interviews before he died in 1999 at age 76, he may have been held here against his will by a kingpin of Northern Kentucky’s famous illegal-gambling operations, the late Frank “Screw” Andrews (Andriola). Andrews ran several gambling clubs along Newport’s Central Avenue, at least some of which welcomed African-American customers. Some of Brown’s predicament seems to have seeped into the emotions of his Christmas song.

Brown had once been a star to black audiences, but by 1959-1961, his Cincinnati years, he was down and out. In the 1940s, as the pianist/singer for a Los Angeles trio called Johnny Moore’s Three Blazers, the Texas-born Brown had several huge hits with the trio in “Merry Christmas Baby” and “Drifting Blues.” On his own in the early 1950s, he had many other national rhythm-and-blues smashes, including “Black Night” and “Trouble Blues.”

But after the hits and cash flow stopped, Brown had a weakness that may have made him an easy mark in Newport. He needed money to bet on horses, according to Danny Caron, the musician who befriended Brown in the late 1980s and helped him launch a late-in-life return to popularity that also saw Brown inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

“It was easy for Charles to get indebted,” Caron said in an interview. “He could go through thousands of dollars a day. You gave Charles Brown a thousand dollars and it was gone in an hour. He didn’t have enough money ever to gamble. That makes it very easy for him to get indebted.”

In an interview for the Denver Post with this writer in 1990, before he was set to open for Bonnie Raitt as part of his comeback, Brown recalled his Cincinnati/Newport days and how he got an employment offer from Andrews. “Mr. Screw was crazy about me. When he picked me up and wanted me to come there and stay and join the music department, he paid me $750 a week. Anybody I wanted to bring in, I could.”

Brown was Andrews’ house pianist. And one artist Brown brought to town to work with him was close friend Amos Milburn, another seemingly past-his-prime blues pianist and singer (“One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer,” “Chicken Shack Boogie”).

In 1960, word of Brown’s presence in town reached Syd Nathan of King Records. In the 1990 interview, Brown recalled that Nathan asked him, “‘Could you write something as good as ‘Merry Christmas Baby?’ I said, ‘I don’t know how good it will be, but I’ll write.’ He said, ‘You and Amos go write one apiece and let me hear what you done.’ When we brought it to Syd Nathan he fell in love with mine.” Milburn’s “Christmas Comes But Once a Year” ended up as the B-side of Brown’s King single.

“Please Come Home’s” opening was a memorable chiming-bell sound. Philip Paul, who played drums on the record, said that was a gong played by Gene Redd, a King Records musician. “I think that made the recording,” Paul said.

The song became Brown’s first hit record in eight years and reached No. 21 on Billboard’s Top Rhythm & Blues Singles chart. Brown subsequently recorded other singles and even an album of Christmas songs for Nathan, but never had another hit. While Brown claimed he wrote “Please Come Home” alone, the credits listed Redd as co-writer.

Brown told Living Blues magazine in a 1994 interview that in Cincinnati he married an older white woman with children named Eva McGhee, who owned “one of the finest garages in Cincinnati.” He characterized it as a “a friendly marriage – it wasn’t really love.” Brown’s 1999 obituary said he was twice divorced and left no family. (Some who knew Brown say he was gay.)

But he also told of wanting to leave town and being threatened by Andrews. He finally escaped, Brown recounted, when federal Internal Revenue Service agents launched a devastating raid on Andrews’ Sportsman’s Club at 333 Central Ave. on Aug. 22, 1961. The raid was part of the new Kennedy administration’s crackdown, and made headlines for days when it happened.

Fortunately for Brown, one “customer” may have helped him escape both Andrews and the federal bust. He was an African-American undercover IRS agent who infiltrated the place before the raid.

In his memoir “Three of the First,” Hilton Owens Sr. (who died in 2007) recalled, “I struck up an acquaintance with well-known ballad singer Charles Brown who was famous almost everywhere, except at the Sportsman’s Club, where he was merely a fill-in during intermission for the main entertainer. … Brown never discussed why he was trapped in the Sportsman’s Club, and I did not pry.”

In his 1990 interview, Brown recounted those events. “That night we were playing there, this black guy came and asked, ‘Mr. Brown, would it took you and Amos long to get out of there?'”

Brown’s path after that is unclear. Accounts say he went to Los Angeles, but a 2004 CD collection called The Very Best of Charles Brown: Original King Recordings shows he recorded again for King on Oct. 9, 1961, and off and on until 1968 while also recording elsewhere. A booklet accompanying another CD says he lived in Cincinnati awhile in the late 1960s, too.

The 1960s and 1970s were decades of struggle and obscurity for Brown. But his one towering accomplishment was “Please Come Home.” It becomes more appreciated with each passing Christmas.

Brian Powers of Public Library of Cincinnati & Hamilton County helped with the research.

Classic Christmas Song Has Mysterious Local Roots

Christmas song has mysterious local roots

BY STEVEN ROSEN / CINCINNATI ENQUIRER / Dec. 18, 2014

(Photo: Provided/Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Library and Archives)

 

A year doesn’t go by without a new recording of “Please Come Home for Christmas,” that melodically stately, melancholy ballad about not wanting to spend the holidays alone.

This year, there are at least two new versions – by country singer Darius Rucker and alternative rockers Landlady (with guest vocalist Amelia Meath). They join the impressive likes of the Eagles, Bon Jovi, Willie Nelson, James Brown and others in making the song well known.

But what’s not so well known is that the original version was recorded in 1960 at Evanston’s King Records studio by Charles Brown, an African-American blues musician known for his jazz-influenced piano playing and his genteel and politely forlorn vocal style.

Brown came and went from Cincinnati with little fanfare. And, as he claimed in interviews before he died in 1999 at age 76, he may have been held here against his will by a kingpin of Northern Kentucky’s famous illegal-gambling operations, the late Frank “Screw” Andrews (Andriola). Andrews ran several gambling clubs along Newport’s Central Avenue, at least some of which welcomed African-American customers. Some of Brown’s predicament seems to have seeped into the emotions of his Christmas song.

 

Brown had once been a star to black audiences, but by 1959-1961, his Cincinnati years, he was down and out. In the 1940s, as the pianist/singer for a Los Angeles trio called Johnny Moore’s Three Blazers, the Texas-born Brown had several huge hits with the trio in “Merry Christmas Baby” and “Drifting Blues.” On his own in the early 1950s, he had many other national rhythm-and-blues smashes, including “Black Night” and “Trouble Blues.”

But after the hits and cash flow stopped, Brown had a weakness that may have made him an easy mark in Newport. He needed money to bet on horses, according to Danny Caron, the musician who befriended Brown in the late 1980s and helped him launch a late-in-life return to popularity that also saw Brown inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

“It was easy for Charles to get indebted,” Caron said in an interview. “He could go through thousands of dollars a day. You gave Charles Brown a thousand dollars and it was gone in an hour. He didn’t have enough money ever to gamble. That makes it very easy for him to get indebted.”

In an interview for the Denver Post with this writer in 1990, before he was set to open for Bonnie Raitt as part of his comeback, Brown recalled his Cincinnati/Newport days and how he got an employment offer from Andrews. “Mr. Screw was crazy about me. When he picked me up and wanted me to come there and stay and join the music department, he paid me $750 a week. Anybody I wanted to bring in, I could.”

Brown was Andrews’ house pianist. And one artist Brown brought to town to work with him was close friend Amos Milburn, another seemingly past-his-prime blues pianist and singer (“One Scotch, One Bourbon, One Beer,” “Chicken Shack Boogie”).

In 1960, word of Brown’s presence in town reached Syd Nathan of King Records. In the 1990 interview, Brown recalled that Nathan asked him, “‘Could you write something as good as ‘Merry Christmas Baby?’ I said, ‘I don’t know how good it will be, but I’ll write.’ He said, ‘You and Amos go write one apiece and let me hear what you done.’ When we brought it to Syd Nathan he fell in love with mine.” Milburn’s “Christmas Comes But Once a Year” ended up as the B-side of Brown’s King single.

“Please Come Home’s” opening was a memorable chiming-bell sound. Philip Paul, who played drums on the record, said that was a gong played by Gene Redd, a King Records musician. “I think that made the recording,” Paul said.

The song became Brown’s first hit record in eight years and reached No. 21 on Billboard’s Top Rhythm & Blues Singles chart. Brown subsequently recorded other singles and even an album of Christmas songs for Nathan, but never had another hit. While Brown claimed he wrote “Please Come Home” alone, the credits listed Redd as co-writer.

Brown told Living Blues magazine in a 1994 interview that in Cincinnati he married an older white woman with children named Eva McGhee, who owned “one of the finest garages in Cincinnati.” He characterized it as a “a friendly marriage – it wasn’t really love.” Brown’s 1999 obituary said he was twice divorced and left no family. (Some who knew Brown say he was gay.)

But he also told of wanting to leave town and being threatened by Andrews. He finally escaped, Brown recounted, when federal Internal Revenue Service agents launched a devastating raid on Andrews’ Sportsman’s Club at 333 Central Ave. on Aug. 22, 1961. The raid was part of the new Kennedy administration’s crackdown, and made headlines for days when it happened.

Fortunately for Brown, one “customer” may have helped him escape both Andrews and the federal bust. He was an African-American undercover IRS agent who infiltrated the place before the raid.

In his memoir “Three of the First,” Hilton Owens Sr. (who died in 2007) recalled, “I struck up an acquaintance with well-known ballad singer Charles Brown who was famous almost everywhere, except at the Sportsman’s Club, where he was merely a fill-in during intermission for the main entertainer. … Brown never discussed why he was trapped in the Sportsman’s Club, and I did not pry.”

In his 1990 interview, Brown recounted those events. “That night we were playing there, this black guy came and asked, ‘Mr. Brown, would it took you and Amos long to get out of there?'”

Brown’s path after that is unclear. Accounts say he went to Los Angeles, but a 2004 CD collection called The Very Best of Charles Brown: Original King Recordings shows he recorded again for King on Oct. 9, 1961, and off and on until 1968 while also recording elsewhere. A booklet accompanying another CD says he lived in Cincinnati awhile in the late 1960s, too.

The 1960s and 1970s were decades of struggle and obscurity for Brown. But his one towering accomplishment was “Please Come Home.” It becomes more appreciated with each passing Christmas.

(Brian Powers of Public Library of Cincinnati & Hamilton County helped with the research.)

CONTACT STEVEN ROSEN: srosenone@aol.com