The Freewheelers

Waitin’ For George (American)
by M.I. MacDonald

First off, let me start with a summation. I love these guys. They are one of the few contemporary bands to take the whole ’70s worship sensibility so kitschy-popular today, and truly craft it into something special instead of just so much more greasy hair and polyester. This era’s influence is evident from the get-go, starting with the cover shot and carrying through into the sound of the whole disc’s historical influences.

Lead singer/songwriter/guitarist Luther’s grampa was Bob Russell, lyricist of such chestnuts of our grammar school concerts as “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother.” Apparently, our boy Luther also listened to a lot of Joe Cocker while bouncing on Grampa Bob’s knee during his formative years, because the sound is unmistakable; from the soulful screams to the raw timbre of Luther’s meant-for-blues-rock voice. A touch of the Age of Aquarius mixed with bourbon shooters (“Come sit by my fire and a peacepipe we will share/Let me brush the stardust from your hair”) only makes them more popular these days. From the crashing opening of “Best Be On Your Way,” well through the first two-thirds of this disc, The Freewheelers are a smashing success, taking their listeners on a funky rollercoaster ride that rarely lingers in the valleys, surging ahead instead to the loop-de-loops and hairpin curves. Their instrumentation, combined with those smoky vocals, is perhaps their greatest strength, and is well-displayed in their songs, all of which showcase a strong Luther Russell contribution. Dave Sobel’s joyous use of (really!) a Hammond organ is fresh and accomplished, unmatched by any of the ’70s imitator bands, and it’s invaluable to the successful sound of this merry band of ’70s innovators. Woven into this impressive debut disc’s raucous tapestry are strong vocals, sizzling guitar, glockenspiel, ukulele, bass, acoustic piano, and “drums and stuff.” Although the last third of this disc loses some of the rather large head of steam built up in the first two-thirds, transitioning to a strangely Ragtime Revival-meets-Sgt. Pepper sound on “About Marie,” and hurdy-gurdy sound on “Let the Music Bring a Smile,” this could have been overcome by minor shuffling in the song order. Or maybe they just plain wore themselves out with all that sweat and screaming and groovin’ – tapered down to eyes-closed psychedelic instrumental bridges with faint horns in the corner of some smoky room jams. Move over Blues Traveller, and get your harmonica histrionics out of the way for The Freewheelers groove thang.