Redbone's official website

Extra n°15, february 1972

6 pages in a french magazine

Translation:

In the footsteps of redbone

Comanchava guys? Eight days later the witticism that we were so glad about looked a bit feeble. I give it for what it is: an example of the spirit of sweet madness that was one of the tour in Redbone province. Bordeaux, Toulouse and Lille had been selected to receive four Indians, the DPI team and a bunch of journalists. It was not "Mad dogs and Englishmen" far away, however stunned the home that we had booked we confirmed one thing for a respectable hotel porter a bunch of hairy musicians invading the property is considered by him as an invasion of Martians. Responses differed from one place to another, and we welcomed amused passions to barely hidden hostility. Good thing the Redbone had abandoned the annoying quirks of their ancestors, it would have been pretty. Not to forget a scalp smells badly for at least fifteen days.

The attempt by D.P.I. was very interesting and fortunately successful. Bringing a foreign group and look beyond what the Olympia and the Buttes Chaumont TV can only help the group prevail and become known throughout the country, plus it is time that we think of the provincial people, previously left in a little gap. They also buy records, damn it! Bordeaux, Toulouse and Lille have power applaud Redbone. Should have, as a mist prevent the group to fly from Copenhagen to get to Lille. Remained Bordeaux and Toulouse, two successful concerts, memories and shovel
new friends. I will not talk about the concert at the Olympia, which was marred by poor sound and balance established in defiance of common sense.
Redbone is a word "Cajun" which means half-blood. Blood mixed they are all four. Lolly Vegas, Tony Bellamy, Pat Vegas and Pete Poe are authentic Indians whose families have experienced the humiliating deportation camp to another. The legend that they too have known the parking in small areas surrounded by barbed wire is not quite accurate. They were lucky to escape this prison life, and went to live in California, where they met in Los Angeles.
"We do not intend to mount a band composed solely of Indians. This was done almost by accident. We met at the Whiskey Go Go in Los Angeles. At that time, there was Lolly, Tony and myself. Our drummer was Paul Lagos today with John Mayall. Following family problems, Paul left us and we met Pete Poe. That's when we took the name Redbone."
You still play the race card to impose your group. "Let's say it's mostly our record company which thought of this. We have no objection because we are actually all four of Indian origin. But now we would like to take distance from it. We do not want people to come to us because we are picturesque and the last representatives of a race that goes out, but because they like our music. We are first and foremost musicians and so we want to be considered. Let the card sentimentality and mercy to others, to those who only have this to get noticed." Fifteen kilometers from Bordeaux, a tent was set up in the university campus. 3,000 people will go there for the first rock concert. The first part is Titanic. Titanic is not an exceptional or particularly original group. However, they have the merit to interpret their compositions very honestly and to be a good support band for the first part of the concert. Maybe one day Titanic can access the full stardom, it's the evil we wish them. After the intermission the Redbone take possession of the stage. A few long minutes are used to tune their instruments. Redbone not only "good", everything must always be perfect. From the first notes of their music, Redbone reveals itself as being one of the most original that came across the Atlantic for a long time. Their sound is unique, we seek an organ that is hiding somewhere behind an amp. There are none, it's Lolly Vegas we need, to find the head of this strange feeling. His touch is unique in the rock and his use of Lesley to amplify his guitar transforms the sound of his instrument so very surprisingly. The other three accomplices are no less worthy of praise. There is Pat, bassist, which unadorned, without exploring its handle, without wanting to try to get out of its frame, provides support without flaws. Pretty stingy of his notes, he plays
essentially each one of them to fall right in time, to fill exactly the tenth of a second left for it. Tony Bellamy, flamboyant showman, the more expansive the group stage he gives physically aware of being watched, it provides the visual side and began solo where his entire body involved, Dog-all-crazy, he disperses all sides, knowing that Pat and Lolly are weaving a perfect support net where he cannot crash. Pete Poe finally ubiquitous behind her big drums, constantly he raises his troops to attack. Its bearings tom, cymbals shots as accurate as powerful, leave no respite to the other three, forcing them to go further. Pete De Poe reminds me of Art Blakey, not in the way he plays but the way he constantly restart the soloist. And the whole is a work of art, an extraordinary development of four musicians who, separately, could appear against time, but the final product has the perfect finish and a complicated lace, a snow crystal seen in microscope. A sense of rhythm reminiscent of Sly, James Brown. Music that mesmerizes the ear, when it stops borns amazement, and perhaps some frustration. Those who came because they had danced this summer on "Witch Queen of New Orleans" soon perceived that Redbone was anything other than the group of a summer tube. The Bordeaux audience reserved a long ovation as they came out, they already started up for the back to the hotel but returned to play one last song. A little while later we were all seated before a couscous, Pat told me of his astonishment about the enthusiastic reception they had been subjected. They thought they were unknown to the French public and never imagined how come so many people. Still later Tony motioned me and said: "Go ask the girl there if she wants to spend the night at the hotel with me. If she refuses, tell her I scalp her. " It did not work.
The next afternoon everyone takes the train to Toulouse. Funny incident at the station of Toulouse, not one carrier available and twenty suitcases. It was explained that the musicians should carry them themselves. A big blues they took. Holly pop stars! The spectacle of Toulouse was not musically inferior to that of Bordeaux, but was severely hampered by an appalling acoustic. A hall of concrete and steel where sounds bounced from all directions as foam rubber balls. But the Indian magic was still operating and it was again the triumph. Pat told me they did not like to play especially in large rooms, partly because public attention which is at the bottom disperses, secondly because they have to play hard. They prefer the atmosphere of clubs because there they can keep control of everything, see each viewer, play for people they can control emotions and not an anonymous and impersonal black crowd. At the end of the concert their manager brought them to the hotel with the order to go to bed right away because the next day he would get up early to go to Copenhagen. It was not to the liking of everyone, including Tony that had not digested his sentimental failure the day before. We therefore expect that the manager is lying and escape, plan to go to the "Ubu », taxi waiting with the lights off. Melodrama. At the Ubu we found ourselves bottles of scotch, a great music program and some young very friendly people, I only tell you that.
To say that the next morning we were beautiful would be somewhat exaggerated, but that's touring. And it's not every day that real Indians come to us, playing the game of diligence attack.

written by Sacha Reins

Discography 33 t. Redbone (EGP501) double album
Potlatch (BN26283) Witchqueen of New Orleans (EPC64709)