Sacred steel music was born out of the popularity of the Hawaiian Steel guitar in the early part of the twentieth century. Two brothers, Troman and Willie Eason were responsible for bringing the steel guitar to the House of God services in the 1930's. While Troman had learned how to play in the Hawaiian style, Willie had not had any formal training and simply played the music he was familiar with on this guitar. From such humble beginnings a genre was born.

The Lee Boys are a family group consisting of three brothers; Alvin (guitar), Derrick, and Keith (vocals) and three nephews; Roosevelt Collier (pedal steel guitar), Alvin Cordy Jr. (7 string bass), and Earl Walker (drums). They each grew up making music in a House of God congregation in Perrine Fl. where the brother's father was pastor and steel player. Having been playing together, or individually, in the church since they were seven they've not only developed into proficient musicians but have also learned the key elements for staging a successful show. You don't need to look any further than their new DVD release Live At Bonnaroo for evidence of just how impressive they are.

Sunday mornings at folk festivals were reserved for gospel groups from all over, and I guess Bonnaroo is keeping up that tradition as this recording is of a Sunday morning performance The Lee Boys gave at last year's festival. Now I can't think of a tougher time, or a harder audience to play for, than the Sunday morning of a festival. Half the crowd is either recovering from the night before, if they've even gone to bed yet, and the other half are just wandering onto the site and getting their bearings. A band has to be pretty special and be able to deliver a red hot performance in order to first grab, and then hold, this type of audience's attention for the length of the concert.

Blustery hurricanes of low-end and distortion dominate the atmosphere, but not without a fight from lead singer Yuki Chikudate's quivering and ethereal voice, which occasionally breaks through the din, only to be swallowed whole by a colossal wall of sound once more. Take lead single "New Years," for example, which finds Yuki's fragile whisper riding atop a mountain of titanic distortion and trebling bass, eventually dispelling the noise long enough to croon the track's gorgeous bridge, only to be drown out moments later by an even greater sonic assault; it's an auditory struggle akin to the push-and-pull of the seasonal weather. But that's as hectic as it gets, which is important to point out, lest I undersell the tunefulness of this album. Cuts like "Lions And Tigers," which skimps on none of the band's requisite amounts of low-end, but tempers the intensity with Yuki's lullaby-sung verses and playful jingling during the subdued (at least by this band's standards) chorus. Of course, even this song eventually builds to a symphonic, eardrum-shattering climax, but that's more a testament to the restless nature of these sprawling compositions.

Growing up in nearby Kenner, young Lloyd's education in the music of New Orleans included everything from singing in his church choir to hanging around the jukebox in his mother's small restaurant. While still in his teens, he joined with his brother Leo to form a local musical group that eventually began to draw wider attention, leading to a 1952 recording session — one of historical significance.

With a moonlighting Fats Domino handling the piano, Lloyd sang what would become one of the all-time classics of New Orleans R&B music, "Lawdy Miss Clawdy." It made the young singer a star, and when he followed up with several other good songs, including "Tell Me Pretty Baby" and "Ain't It a Shame," he appeared to be on his way to a long career.

Unfortunately, the Korean War — and the draft — was next for Lloyd, and when he finally got back to music in 1954 he found that the ever-fickle public had moved on to singers like Little Richard and others. But Lloyd began rebuilding his career and making recordings, first for his own newly-formed company and later through a tie-in with ABC-Paramount.

By 1958, he'd generated a huge Number One hit with "Stagger Lee," an updated version of the old song "Stack-A-Lee" made more appealing to mainstream audiences. As the years passed, Price continued to veer toward a more pop-oriented sound, selling a lot of records with songs such as "I'm Gonna Get Married," and one of his biggest, "Personality." (Video below.)

He also continued to follow his business sense, re-forming his own recording company and finding success not only with his own music but also by promoting newcomer Wilson Pickett. But trouble was right around the corner. Price's longtime business partner Harold Logan met a violent death, and music began to seem less important.

Over the last couple of decades, Price has still found the time to sing once in a while, but has become more and more involved in business investments and opportunities. For one thing, he's very involved in a specialty food company that might have its roots in a childhood spent at his momma's restaurant. In any case, he's still workin' hard.

However that does not mean I haven’t had the chance to listen to the latest batch of releases of all types. In fact some of the output for the land of the Norse has been perfectly suited to the current mood.

Ted Nugent: Nugent, Spirit of the Wild & If You Can’t Lick em’, Lick Em”

The last of the current crop of Nugent re-issues like the first lot is a bit of a mixed bag. There is something for everyone here however and “mixed” for Ted is a pretty good standard. The man is always in the shadow of his 70s hits because they were so good and so huge.

Probably realizing that with the album Nugent, Ted reunited with his ole’ sparing partner Derek St. Holmes who does most of the lead singing on the CD. He also has the drumming power-house of Carmine Appice along for the ride. This is a very strong album that could have been supported by the track “Bound & Gagged” alone.

The track is another one of Ted’s observational rants about the state of the U.S. and its governance. Listening to the words, it's as poignant today as it was then. One thing you got to say about Uncle Ted is that he is consistent in his views and beliefs. “Good & Ready” is another strong track as is the final statement of “Tailgunner”. This is a good album that shows what he is capable of when firing on all cylinders.

Spirit of the Wild sees Ted teaming up again with Derek with Denny Carmassi on drums another journeyman sticksman who played with Ted in Damn Yankees, probably Ted’s great post-70s collection of music. You gotta love tracks like “I shoot back” and “Tooth, fang & claw”. It's always amusing to note that Ted, who just got inducted into the bow hunters hall of fame, thanks his ammo suppliers on his albums.

His 13th solo effort If you Can’t Like Em’…Lick Em is a testament to all that was naff about the 80s from the cover to the daft as a brush name of the album. He even teamed up with Bon Jovi and Sambora for the track “That’s the Story of Love.” This album summed everything good and bad about the 80s as Ted headed off into a new decade. It was his last CD before hooking up with Tommy Shaw and Jack Blades in the uber-successful hard rock supergroup Damn Yankees.

Big words, I know. But any modern rock critic worth his salt will cop to being in awe of this band, even if not everything they've done thrills them. Pretty much everything does it for me though, excepting some very early, particularly indulgent live recordings, and a few tracks off odd LPs over the years. Also, both critics and hardcore fans alike (and there are many) have probably heard most of the cuts on Merriweather (all but the bouncy pop of "Blueish," which debuts on this album) either performed live at concerts, or at concerts on Youtube. That, coupled with interviews with the band stating that this is their "best album yet," and a particularly enthusiastic review from one of the music world's most reputable publications (Uncut), created an almost unbearable strain of hype preceding its release, that which almost any album would buckle under, and couldn't possibly live up to. It's to the great credit of this extraordinary band that they come damn close.

The first sign of greatness reveals itself in the impeccable construction of Merriweather: The album kicks off with "In The Flowers," the most atmospheric track of the set and (next to later cut "No More Runnin'") the most subdued. At least until it suddenly erupts with buzzing synth stabs, before quieting down again for the lead-out, establishing a loud-quiet-loud aesthetic which will remain prevalent throughout. 'Flowers' finds one of the band's two principal vocalists, Avey Tare (real name Dave Portner), waxing euphorically in the name of love about "leaving [his] body for a night." It's a peculiar ballad, for sure, but one that displays a maturity (welcome or not) which contrasts Tare's gorgeously animalistic love song "Purple Bottle," off 2005s Feels.

This sense of gravity and responsibility, a theme that subtly weaves itself into every song on the album, seems appropriate, as a lot has changed since 2005. For instance, one member, Panda Bear (real name Noah Lennox), has become a father, which adds a certain credibility to the powerful lead single (though the band would never call it that) "My Girls." Here, Tare and Panda Bear simply and earnestly proclaim, in unison, "I don't mean / to seem like I care about material things / like a social status / I just want / four walls and adobe slabs / for my girls." The sentiments are felt not only on a human level, but relatable in this time of economic instability, where one can find the most gratifying aspects of life in the love and nurturing of others.

Not all the content here is heavy though; in fact much of it is abstract at best. Lazy, spell-binding Panda Bear cut "Daily Routine" drifts along on skittering break-beats and a vaguely hand-clap-sounding percussive rhythm. Then, halfway through, it slams on the breaks and endlessly repeats its dreamlike refrain, "just one sec more / in my bed," as if to savor that moment in the morning before starting the day. Or maybe coercing someone to stay with him for a while? The ambiguity only empowers the track, and even here we find traces of that nurturing paternal maturity in lyrics like "make sure my kid's got a jacket." Elsewhere, the most catchy track Tare has ever written, "Summertime Clothes," finds the band in a state of freewheeling bliss. "I want to walk around with you," Tare sings, later repeatedly chanting the track's makeshift bridge, "when the sun comes up we'll go out again." The act of being caught up in a moment, or a musical/lyrical stanza, is one of many binding thematic concerns here.