Pittsburgh native Barry Levenson’s lifelong love affair with the blues began at an early age. At fourteen, an older friend played him some of Buddy Guy’s Vanguard records and Levenson immediately fell hopelessly and passionately in love with this great American art form.
After playing in numerous blues bands in his home town, Levenson landed a job doing studio work, which he still does to this day. He then moved to Boston to study arranging at the Berklee School of Music. While in Boston, he became the house guitarist at Boston’s premier rhythm and blues hot spot, the Sugar Shack, backing up numerous R&B and soul greats. Looking for a better climate, both musically and weather-wise, Levenson next moved to the sunny climes of Southern California, where he immediately began working with such blues greats as Big Mama Thornton, Pee Wee Crayton, Percy Mayfield, Lowell Fulson and J.D. Nicholson. Of this exciting and fruitful period, Levenson says, “I was lucky to get in on the tail end of the incredible L.A. blues scene because within a few years, most of these great artists had passed on.” Levenson then formed his own group called the Automatics, which landed a recording contract with famed Kent Records where he was the house producer.
The guitarist’s next step was to land a deal with the prestigious European jazz and blues label, Storyville Records under his own name. Levenson’s first release, Heart to Hand, received critical raves and was one of the most popular instrumental releases of the decade. At this juncture in Levenson’s career he was hired as a producer and A&R man for Storyville, finding undiscovered and overlooked talent, then producing and recording them. This was then followed by the Closer to the Blues release which garnered an invitation to the prestigious Blues Estafette Festival in Holland. Levenson’s latest release for Storyville, Hard Times Won, earned him a Handy Award nomination for Blues Song of the Year. He was also included on 2 Delta Laserlight compilations, Blues Guitar Heaven along with Muddy Waters, T-Bone Walker and Mike Bloomfield to name a few; and Blues for a Rainy Day with T-Bone Walker, Buddy Guy and Bobby Bland. Other highlights of Levenson’s career include work on William Clarke’s Groove Time CD, numerous blues festivals in Europe and the United States.
Levenson still resides in Southern California and is an in-demand studio guitarist whose work has appeared in many movies, television and commercials. He gigs regularly around Southern California and is now playing with one of America’s greatest and most loved bands, Canned Heat.
From Guitar Player Magazine:
Though 30% of the decade still remains, Barry Levenson’s Heart to Hand, with one foot standing in the rich tradition of six-string blues and one foot planted in the future of electric guitar, rightfully ranks as one of the most fully realized and innovative guitar recordings of the 1990s. From Levenson’s fat-toned soaring lines over the horn-powered shuffle of “Cobra Days” to the frightening post-modern twang of “Steel Life”, Heart to Hand is a missing link between the heavily amplified, vibrato-driven technique of postwar blues guitar and the improvisational triumphs of Bop, jazz and beyond.
From the start, the Pittsburgh native has had a love affair with what he calls the most expressive and vital music form America has produced: The blues. Epiphany struck when an older harmonica-playing friend gave Levenson the album that inspired him to begin playing the guitar--Buddy Guy’s watershed LP, A Man and the Blues. “This was the first time that I heard music that was not made for commerce, trend, or any other reason other than pure expression. After one listening, I knew what I wanted to do in life. I learned that record note for note and had little interest in any music that wasn’t pure blues: Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Magic Sam, T-Bone Walker.” Along with the spirit and the licks, Levenson also acquired a lifelong love for vintage Stratocasters from Guy’s epochal blues statement. After a year of locking himself in his room with a few classic blues albums and ten-hour-a-day woodshedding sessions, Levenson began performing on the Pittsburgh club scene. When the blues could no longer pay the bills, Barry began an apprenticeship on the chitlin circuit where the memory of Geroge Benson, Grant Green, Brother Jack Mcduff and a slew of other great jazz musicians still held sway. Meeting young black musicians whose idols were Wes Montgomery, Kenny Burrell and Miles Davis, as opposed to the rock heroes like Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix was a real revelation. From playing B.B. King’s “Sweet Little Angel” and note-for-note versions of Magic Sam and T-Bone Walker tunes, Levenson found himself thrust into a world where a blues could mean anything from a burning Charlie Parker tune to Thelonius Monk’s Round Midnight to impossibly fast tempos of I Got Rhythm changes. He began pursuing the funky jazz blues of the pre-pop Wes Montgomery, George Benson and middle-period Pat Martino with a vengeance. All during this time Barry emphasized, “I never saw any distinction between my first love, blues, and my new mistress, jazz.” In our interview, he stated emphatically, “My goal is to be the most honest improviser I can be, which is a lifelong pursuit. To me, the emotional content of blues coupled with the harmonic sophistication of jazz was essential to my musical growth. One without the other would have been an incompleteness in my musical development.”
Once again, like before, Levenson found that jazz couldn’t pay the bills so he paid the rent by working as the guitarist and musical director for numerous R&B groups. He stated, “With my narrow, purist attitude, I felt that at least I was still playing black music as opposed to white rock, Top 40, which I despised.” But after a couple years of this, without any outlet for creativity, he became increasingly bored and moved to Boston to study arranging at the Berklee School of Music. But bills must be paid and once again, Levenson found himself the musical director and house guitarist at a popular Boston R&B club that featured such greats as Solomon Burke, Millie Jackson, Latimore and Wilson Pickett. “My schedule consisted,” he says, “of going to school from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., coming home and practicing until the gig, which consisted of five sets a night, seven nights a week and matinees on the weekend.” At this time, Levenson was offered a permanent job as a studio musician doing jingles and industrial commercials. Although the pay was good, he declined and headed for the sunny climes of Los Angeles.
After first arriving in Los Angeles, Levenson sat in with blues great Pee-Wee Crayton and was quickly hired on by Pee-Wee and other blues notables, such as Big Mama Thornton, Percy Mayfield, Lowell Fulsom and Finis Tasby for their regular gigs in the Los Angeles area and their occasional tours. He notes, “I was lucky to get in on the tail end of the West Coast blues scene because within a few years, most of these great innovators had passed away.”
At this point, after all those years as a sideman, he began seriously planning to play and record his own music when a tendon in his left hand literally gave out. Faulty “cures” given by the doctors he saw--cortisone injections, and exercise programs--only exacerbated what was eventually diagnosed as overuse syndrome. For roughly two years, he was unable to play--rest was prescribed for the damaged tendon and for the first and only time in his life, Levenson was forced to earn his living outside of music. Of this painful period, Barry says, “In many ways, it was good for my growth as a human being. My identity had been so wrapped up in playing the guitar that this forced hiatus gave me the opportunity to get to know myself as an individual and to do things that ‘normal’ people did --things that I had put on the back burner in my single-minded involvement with music.” When Levenson was finally able to begin playing again, he confronted the challenge of having to re-learn and rebuild his technique. “Before the injury, I had acheived a high level of technique but I became more interested in writing and creating my own personal niche than being overly concerned with technique for technique’s sake. People had always told me I had a personal recognizable style and I wanted to do something unique with my music. I set myself a goal, to reach the innovative levels of my heroes. Even though I knew I could never be a Muddy Waters, T-Bone Walker or Pat Martino, I felt that it is important to add to what has gone before rather than just rehash it. The line between imitator and innovator is a razor’s edge.”
Levenson returned to playing by backing up former Muddy Waters sideman, piano player J.D. Nicholson, at the Lighthouse Café and working at a small recording studio doing sessions and commercials. He started a band, the Automatics, that became the house band at the Lighthouse and the most popular original group in the South Bay. “That band was great for me in many ways. I was the writer, arranger and band leader. We did every conceivable kind of roots music possible, from sophisticated swing to back-alley blues. We played 4-5 nights a week for people that actually came to hear music.” He pursued songwriting, arranging and production with the same passion that he pursued the guitar, writing over 200 songs and had the freedom to experiment with form and structure. From this experience Barry learned what he calls, “the evil side of music: The Business.” “We were hit on by bogus record companies, crackpot producers, greedy managers and psuedo-A&R guys who said that if we had just one hit song, we’ll be bigger than whoever was the new fad at the time.” Eventually, they were signed to the resurrected Kent Records, the legendary blues and R&B label that introduced such greats as B.B. King and Elmore James to the world. Levenson was tapped to be producer and songwriter for the label. Once again, The Business reared its ugly head. It took 3 years before recording began and another year for the record to be released. Although it was well received critically in Europe, lack of promotion kept the record from being widely recognized.
The next logical step for the seasoned player/producer/songwriter was Heart to Hand. “I wanted world-class singers,” he says. “Although I wanted to do a mostly instrumental record, roots music is foremost a vocal genre, and I am a songwriter.” He lined up the gifted vocalist and harp player, Johnny Dyer for whom Levenson penned the slyly humorous “Wrong Side of the Blues.” Levenson stated, “Johnny is the real deal and a true gentleman.” He also picked his old friend, blues stylist Finis Tasby for the big-band blues ballad, “Slippin’ Down”, and Mary Williams of the Williams Sisters gospel group whose beautiful falsetto has backed up Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson and is featured on the mid-tempo “Whole Lot of Blues.”
Barry’s rhythm section consisted of the drummer and bass player he has been playing with for many years, Dave Kida and Blake Watson. “These guys are great, sensitive players who know the music inside and out and are, more importantly, great friends. We’ve done literally thousands of gigs together and there’s a certain intangible chemistry that happens when a real band plays together that cannot be acheived in any other way.” Keyboard player Michael Thompson, whom Levenson calls “one of the best B-3 players and musicians in general I’ve ever heard,” handles the organ and piano duties on every track. The horn players on the record are Levenson’s old compatriots from the Automatics: Phil Krawzak and Chris Jennings. Keyboardist Chuck Tripi, whom Levenson calls “a true stylist,” rounds out the keyboard duties.
The opening track, the mini-suite, “Cobra Days/Blue Tears” is his tribute to Chicago’s blues guitar giants, Magic Sam, Buddy Guy and Otis Rush. Levenson lays down verse after verse of swank, stinging riffs so logical in their execution, it’s as if nothing else could have been played. The band dramatically shifts gears into the minor chords of “Blue Tears” dedicated to the late guitar genius Danny Gatton. It is here that the expressiveness of the electric guitar is showcased in all its glory as Levenson cries, shouts and moans through his instrument in a tour-de-force of touch, taste, tone and emotion. Churned by Thompson’s swirling Hammond and Williams’ “workingman’s” blues vocals, Levenson’s guitar moves between sweet jazzy fills and slashing flurries firing at the demons of everyday existence on “Whole Lot of Blues”. A pulsating, call-to-the-dance-floor groove, “Blue Stew”, represents Levenson’s years backing numerous soul singers, providing the appropriate setting for the double-stops and slinky lines absorbed from Curtis Mayfield, Steve Cropper, Bobby Womack and Jimmy Nolan.
“The Late Show” is simply one of the most perfectly realized slow blues performances this writer has ever heard. The opening bars stand as a textbook example of finger vibrato and string bending as Levenson wrenches tonal nuances and shadings that evoke the lyrical purity of Robert Nighthawk’s bottleneck stylings and Buddy Guy’s finest moments. The “Albert” in “Royal Albert” refers, of course, to Albert Collins as does the funky Texas rhythm, the catchy head and Levenson’s searing tone and solos in this tip-of-the hat to the late master of the Telecaster. The big band gem, “Slippin’ Down,” is reminiscent of the classic Duke Peacock studio sound. Tasby’s heartfelt vocals set the stage for four choruses of Levenson’s masterful blues playing. This is truly a lesson in how to build a solo. With the horns swelling up behind him, Levenson’s micro-tonal bends and fierce bursts produce a glorious wall of sound. If Phil Spector had been a blues producer, this is what he might have concocted. “Earl’s Ride” is a wild, big band sortie with Levenson’s guitar calling out and responding to the intricate horn head until all but his guitar and the drums drop out, allowing him to briefly quote from Charlie Christian’s “Seven Come Eleven” before signaling the band back in with the head from Charlie Parker’s “Now’s the Time.” The album’s second mini-suite, “Steel Life,” begins eerily in the Mississippi Delta with Levenson on acoustic guitar before coming into focus in a postmodern soundscape. Following the intro, the guitarist leaves the blues form if not its spirit, as his piercing lines and trebly tone conjure up the horrific ambience of a David Lynch film. “West Side Rain” is a moody atmospheric foray into the minor-key recesses of the West Side Chicago sound. The dark, distorted guitar spews chorus after chorus of gut-wrenching blues. Of special note is the work of harp virtuoso Larry “Big House” David. The final track, “Crawford’s Grill,” is named after the jazz club where Levenson saw firsthand many of the great jazz artists who inspired him. On this tune, his beloved wife and mistress sit side by side as he effortlessly mixes long burnished bop lines and masterful string bends into a seamless style that is uniquely his own.
When I asked Barry about the varied palette of guitar tones on the record, thinking they must be the product of many different combinations of amplifiers and guitars, he answered, “Almost all the songs were cut using my 1961 Stratocaster and a few old Fender amps. I was never into effects. I’m always trying to get as much tone out of the instrument as I can with just my hands.” It is a testimony to this last statement that the same setup that produced the fat bop lines of “Crawford’s Grill” produced the brittle, stinging lines of “Steel Life.”
Heart to Hand is a paean to talent, experience, individualism and Barry Levenson’s musical philosophy. “I know it’s cliche, but my life has always been about expressing through my guitar the human longings and emotions that can’t be put into words and creating something new in the process.” Heart to Hand is all that and more.
Frank Joseph
Former contributing writer, Musician Magazine, Guitar Player, Guitar World
After playing in numerous blues bands in his home town, Levenson landed a job doing studio work, which he still does to this day. He then moved to Boston to study arranging at the Berklee School of Music. While in Boston, he became the house guitarist at Boston’s premier rhythm and blues hot spot, the Sugar Shack, backing up numerous R&B and soul greats. Looking for a better climate, both musically and weather-wise, Levenson next moved to the sunny climes of Southern California, where he immediately began working with such blues greats as Big Mama Thornton, Pee Wee Crayton, Percy Mayfield, Lowell Fulson and J.D. Nicholson. Of this exciting and fruitful period, Levenson says, “I was lucky to get in on the tail end of the incredible L.A. blues scene because within a few years, most of these great artists had passed on.” Levenson then formed his own group called the Automatics, which landed a recording contract with famed Kent Records where he was the house producer.
The guitarist’s next step was to land a deal with the prestigious European jazz and blues label, Storyville Records under his own name. Levenson’s first release, Heart to Hand, received critical raves and was one of the most popular instrumental releases of the decade. At this juncture in Levenson’s career he was hired as a producer and A&R man for Storyville, finding undiscovered and overlooked talent, then producing and recording them. This was then followed by the Closer to the Blues release which garnered an invitation to the prestigious Blues Estafette Festival in Holland. Levenson’s latest release for Storyville, Hard Times Won, earned him a Handy Award nomination for Blues Song of the Year. He was also included on 2 Delta Laserlight compilations, Blues Guitar Heaven along with Muddy Waters, T-Bone Walker and Mike Bloomfield to name a few; and Blues for a Rainy Day with T-Bone Walker, Buddy Guy and Bobby Bland. Other highlights of Levenson’s career include work on William Clarke’s Groove Time CD, numerous blues festivals in Europe and the United States.
Levenson still resides in Southern California and is an in-demand studio guitarist whose work has appeared in many movies, television and commercials. He gigs regularly around Southern California and is now playing with one of America’s greatest and most loved bands, Canned Heat.
From Guitar Player Magazine:
Though 30% of the decade still remains, Barry Levenson’s Heart to Hand, with one foot standing in the rich tradition of six-string blues and one foot planted in the future of electric guitar, rightfully ranks as one of the most fully realized and innovative guitar recordings of the 1990s. From Levenson’s fat-toned soaring lines over the horn-powered shuffle of “Cobra Days” to the frightening post-modern twang of “Steel Life”, Heart to Hand is a missing link between the heavily amplified, vibrato-driven technique of postwar blues guitar and the improvisational triumphs of Bop, jazz and beyond.
From the start, the Pittsburgh native has had a love affair with what he calls the most expressive and vital music form America has produced: The blues. Epiphany struck when an older harmonica-playing friend gave Levenson the album that inspired him to begin playing the guitar--Buddy Guy’s watershed LP, A Man and the Blues. “This was the first time that I heard music that was not made for commerce, trend, or any other reason other than pure expression. After one listening, I knew what I wanted to do in life. I learned that record note for note and had little interest in any music that wasn’t pure blues: Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Magic Sam, T-Bone Walker.” Along with the spirit and the licks, Levenson also acquired a lifelong love for vintage Stratocasters from Guy’s epochal blues statement. After a year of locking himself in his room with a few classic blues albums and ten-hour-a-day woodshedding sessions, Levenson began performing on the Pittsburgh club scene. When the blues could no longer pay the bills, Barry began an apprenticeship on the chitlin circuit where the memory of Geroge Benson, Grant Green, Brother Jack Mcduff and a slew of other great jazz musicians still held sway. Meeting young black musicians whose idols were Wes Montgomery, Kenny Burrell and Miles Davis, as opposed to the rock heroes like Eric Clapton and Jimi Hendrix was a real revelation. From playing B.B. King’s “Sweet Little Angel” and note-for-note versions of Magic Sam and T-Bone Walker tunes, Levenson found himself thrust into a world where a blues could mean anything from a burning Charlie Parker tune to Thelonius Monk’s Round Midnight to impossibly fast tempos of I Got Rhythm changes. He began pursuing the funky jazz blues of the pre-pop Wes Montgomery, George Benson and middle-period Pat Martino with a vengeance. All during this time Barry emphasized, “I never saw any distinction between my first love, blues, and my new mistress, jazz.” In our interview, he stated emphatically, “My goal is to be the most honest improviser I can be, which is a lifelong pursuit. To me, the emotional content of blues coupled with the harmonic sophistication of jazz was essential to my musical growth. One without the other would have been an incompleteness in my musical development.”
Once again, like before, Levenson found that jazz couldn’t pay the bills so he paid the rent by working as the guitarist and musical director for numerous R&B groups. He stated, “With my narrow, purist attitude, I felt that at least I was still playing black music as opposed to white rock, Top 40, which I despised.” But after a couple years of this, without any outlet for creativity, he became increasingly bored and moved to Boston to study arranging at the Berklee School of Music. But bills must be paid and once again, Levenson found himself the musical director and house guitarist at a popular Boston R&B club that featured such greats as Solomon Burke, Millie Jackson, Latimore and Wilson Pickett. “My schedule consisted,” he says, “of going to school from 8 a.m. to 2 p.m., coming home and practicing until the gig, which consisted of five sets a night, seven nights a week and matinees on the weekend.” At this time, Levenson was offered a permanent job as a studio musician doing jingles and industrial commercials. Although the pay was good, he declined and headed for the sunny climes of Los Angeles.
After first arriving in Los Angeles, Levenson sat in with blues great Pee-Wee Crayton and was quickly hired on by Pee-Wee and other blues notables, such as Big Mama Thornton, Percy Mayfield, Lowell Fulsom and Finis Tasby for their regular gigs in the Los Angeles area and their occasional tours. He notes, “I was lucky to get in on the tail end of the West Coast blues scene because within a few years, most of these great innovators had passed away.”
At this point, after all those years as a sideman, he began seriously planning to play and record his own music when a tendon in his left hand literally gave out. Faulty “cures” given by the doctors he saw--cortisone injections, and exercise programs--only exacerbated what was eventually diagnosed as overuse syndrome. For roughly two years, he was unable to play--rest was prescribed for the damaged tendon and for the first and only time in his life, Levenson was forced to earn his living outside of music. Of this painful period, Barry says, “In many ways, it was good for my growth as a human being. My identity had been so wrapped up in playing the guitar that this forced hiatus gave me the opportunity to get to know myself as an individual and to do things that ‘normal’ people did --things that I had put on the back burner in my single-minded involvement with music.” When Levenson was finally able to begin playing again, he confronted the challenge of having to re-learn and rebuild his technique. “Before the injury, I had acheived a high level of technique but I became more interested in writing and creating my own personal niche than being overly concerned with technique for technique’s sake. People had always told me I had a personal recognizable style and I wanted to do something unique with my music. I set myself a goal, to reach the innovative levels of my heroes. Even though I knew I could never be a Muddy Waters, T-Bone Walker or Pat Martino, I felt that it is important to add to what has gone before rather than just rehash it. The line between imitator and innovator is a razor’s edge.”
Levenson returned to playing by backing up former Muddy Waters sideman, piano player J.D. Nicholson, at the Lighthouse Café and working at a small recording studio doing sessions and commercials. He started a band, the Automatics, that became the house band at the Lighthouse and the most popular original group in the South Bay. “That band was great for me in many ways. I was the writer, arranger and band leader. We did every conceivable kind of roots music possible, from sophisticated swing to back-alley blues. We played 4-5 nights a week for people that actually came to hear music.” He pursued songwriting, arranging and production with the same passion that he pursued the guitar, writing over 200 songs and had the freedom to experiment with form and structure. From this experience Barry learned what he calls, “the evil side of music: The Business.” “We were hit on by bogus record companies, crackpot producers, greedy managers and psuedo-A&R guys who said that if we had just one hit song, we’ll be bigger than whoever was the new fad at the time.” Eventually, they were signed to the resurrected Kent Records, the legendary blues and R&B label that introduced such greats as B.B. King and Elmore James to the world. Levenson was tapped to be producer and songwriter for the label. Once again, The Business reared its ugly head. It took 3 years before recording began and another year for the record to be released. Although it was well received critically in Europe, lack of promotion kept the record from being widely recognized.
The next logical step for the seasoned player/producer/songwriter was Heart to Hand. “I wanted world-class singers,” he says. “Although I wanted to do a mostly instrumental record, roots music is foremost a vocal genre, and I am a songwriter.” He lined up the gifted vocalist and harp player, Johnny Dyer for whom Levenson penned the slyly humorous “Wrong Side of the Blues.” Levenson stated, “Johnny is the real deal and a true gentleman.” He also picked his old friend, blues stylist Finis Tasby for the big-band blues ballad, “Slippin’ Down”, and Mary Williams of the Williams Sisters gospel group whose beautiful falsetto has backed up Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson and is featured on the mid-tempo “Whole Lot of Blues.”
Barry’s rhythm section consisted of the drummer and bass player he has been playing with for many years, Dave Kida and Blake Watson. “These guys are great, sensitive players who know the music inside and out and are, more importantly, great friends. We’ve done literally thousands of gigs together and there’s a certain intangible chemistry that happens when a real band plays together that cannot be acheived in any other way.” Keyboard player Michael Thompson, whom Levenson calls “one of the best B-3 players and musicians in general I’ve ever heard,” handles the organ and piano duties on every track. The horn players on the record are Levenson’s old compatriots from the Automatics: Phil Krawzak and Chris Jennings. Keyboardist Chuck Tripi, whom Levenson calls “a true stylist,” rounds out the keyboard duties.
The opening track, the mini-suite, “Cobra Days/Blue Tears” is his tribute to Chicago’s blues guitar giants, Magic Sam, Buddy Guy and Otis Rush. Levenson lays down verse after verse of swank, stinging riffs so logical in their execution, it’s as if nothing else could have been played. The band dramatically shifts gears into the minor chords of “Blue Tears” dedicated to the late guitar genius Danny Gatton. It is here that the expressiveness of the electric guitar is showcased in all its glory as Levenson cries, shouts and moans through his instrument in a tour-de-force of touch, taste, tone and emotion. Churned by Thompson’s swirling Hammond and Williams’ “workingman’s” blues vocals, Levenson’s guitar moves between sweet jazzy fills and slashing flurries firing at the demons of everyday existence on “Whole Lot of Blues”. A pulsating, call-to-the-dance-floor groove, “Blue Stew”, represents Levenson’s years backing numerous soul singers, providing the appropriate setting for the double-stops and slinky lines absorbed from Curtis Mayfield, Steve Cropper, Bobby Womack and Jimmy Nolan.
“The Late Show” is simply one of the most perfectly realized slow blues performances this writer has ever heard. The opening bars stand as a textbook example of finger vibrato and string bending as Levenson wrenches tonal nuances and shadings that evoke the lyrical purity of Robert Nighthawk’s bottleneck stylings and Buddy Guy’s finest moments. The “Albert” in “Royal Albert” refers, of course, to Albert Collins as does the funky Texas rhythm, the catchy head and Levenson’s searing tone and solos in this tip-of-the hat to the late master of the Telecaster. The big band gem, “Slippin’ Down,” is reminiscent of the classic Duke Peacock studio sound. Tasby’s heartfelt vocals set the stage for four choruses of Levenson’s masterful blues playing. This is truly a lesson in how to build a solo. With the horns swelling up behind him, Levenson’s micro-tonal bends and fierce bursts produce a glorious wall of sound. If Phil Spector had been a blues producer, this is what he might have concocted. “Earl’s Ride” is a wild, big band sortie with Levenson’s guitar calling out and responding to the intricate horn head until all but his guitar and the drums drop out, allowing him to briefly quote from Charlie Christian’s “Seven Come Eleven” before signaling the band back in with the head from Charlie Parker’s “Now’s the Time.” The album’s second mini-suite, “Steel Life,” begins eerily in the Mississippi Delta with Levenson on acoustic guitar before coming into focus in a postmodern soundscape. Following the intro, the guitarist leaves the blues form if not its spirit, as his piercing lines and trebly tone conjure up the horrific ambience of a David Lynch film. “West Side Rain” is a moody atmospheric foray into the minor-key recesses of the West Side Chicago sound. The dark, distorted guitar spews chorus after chorus of gut-wrenching blues. Of special note is the work of harp virtuoso Larry “Big House” David. The final track, “Crawford’s Grill,” is named after the jazz club where Levenson saw firsthand many of the great jazz artists who inspired him. On this tune, his beloved wife and mistress sit side by side as he effortlessly mixes long burnished bop lines and masterful string bends into a seamless style that is uniquely his own.
When I asked Barry about the varied palette of guitar tones on the record, thinking they must be the product of many different combinations of amplifiers and guitars, he answered, “Almost all the songs were cut using my 1961 Stratocaster and a few old Fender amps. I was never into effects. I’m always trying to get as much tone out of the instrument as I can with just my hands.” It is a testimony to this last statement that the same setup that produced the fat bop lines of “Crawford’s Grill” produced the brittle, stinging lines of “Steel Life.”
Heart to Hand is a paean to talent, experience, individualism and Barry Levenson’s musical philosophy. “I know it’s cliche, but my life has always been about expressing through my guitar the human longings and emotions that can’t be put into words and creating something new in the process.” Heart to Hand is all that and more.
Frank Joseph
Former contributing writer, Musician Magazine, Guitar Player, Guitar World
