Robert Palmer and the Improbable All-Star Lineup
In the mid- to late-1980s, there were few pop artists as polished as Robert Palmer. With his sharp suits and effortless cool he resembled a secret agent, and he issued one hit single after another. But more than a decade earlier, he assembled an all-star lineup of musicians to create an album that bore little resemblance to the undeniably catchy, if somewhat antiseptic, singles that would make him a household name. That earlier album, his debut, is what I want to talk about.
That first album, Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley, is interesting — in part — because of its juxtaposition to the hits he recorded in the 1980s. So let’s start by talking about 80s-era Palmer, when he was at the peak of his popularity.
Peak Palmer
If you have an image of Robert Palmer in your head, he is almost certainly wearing a skinny tie. He is probably wearing a suit.
If he wasn’t singing in front of a bunch of virtually identical models, you may be thinking of his days as the frontman for supergroup The Power Station, alongside Duran Duran’s John Taylor (bass) and Andy Taylor (guitar), with Chic’s Tony Thompson on drums. They had hits with “Some Like It Hot” and “Get It On,” and when they recorded their eponymous album in 1984, Robert Palmer was by far the least famous of the bunch. (You might think of this as Robert Palmer’s second improbable all-star lineup.)
If you do picture Palmer singing in front of a bunch of virtually identical models, you’re remembering the string of hits he had as a solo artist right after leaving The Power Station. His success was due, in part, to a meticulously crafted image that put his videos in heavy rotation on MTV, back when Music Television was a dominant force in pop culture. If you were alive in the 80s, you almost certainly saw “Addicted to Love,” “I Didn’t Mean to Turn You On,” and “Simply Irresistible.” They were inescapable.
The songs themselves are all good ones — possibly great ones (I still dig them, anyway). But as good as those songs are, this era of Robert Palmer feels very much like a carefully packaged product. More like fast food, less like home cooking.
Which brings us back to Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley.
Back To The 70s
Palmer spent the early 70s singing for a soul-rock outfit called Vinegar Joe in his native U.K. The band was moderately successful, and he recorded three albums with them for Island Records before the group folded in early 1974.
Palmer then signed to Island Records as a solo artist and, a few months later, found himself ping-ponging between New Orleans and New York with a motley crew of collaborators. This is where things get interesting.
Like many people, I first became familiar with Palmer through his slickly produced singles in the 1980s. I came to his early work much later. And when I first scanned the liner notes of his debut album, I was amazed at the roster of musicians. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but this was definitely not it.
There are only eight songs on Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley and, with the exception of Palmer, there are no musicians who appear on all eight tracks. But let’s take a peek at some of the more prominent players. It’s a heck of a lineup.
Who’s Who
The most frequent collaborator is Lowell George, who plays guitar on five of the eight tracks. George had been a member of Frank Zappa’s Mothers of Invention in the late 1960s. He produced Shakedown Street for the Grateful Dead. He played slide guitar on albums for John Cale, James Taylor, and Jackson Browne, among others. But he is likely best known as the singer, songwriter and lead guitarist for Little Feat, which may best be described as a country-rock jam band that loved R&B. Which is not how most people think of Robert Palmer.
On three of the tracks, Palmer’s backing band is The Meters — New Orleans musical royalty and arguably the funkiest band of all time. Specifically, The Meters lineup for this album included Art Neville on keyboards, Leo Nocentelli on guitar, George Porter Jr. on bass, and Ziggy Modeliste on drums. Lowell George also played on all three of these tracks, which means that there are three songs with Lowell George playing lead guitar for The Meters, with Robert Palmer as the front man. I love that this is a thing that happened in real life. It makes me happy.
Four other tracks featured a backing band that is described in the liner notes as the “New York Rhythm Section.” And, again, it is a remarkable lineup. Three of these four musicians would go on to play in the jazz-funk band Stuff: Richard Tee, Cornell Dupree, and Gordon Edwards.
Tee was a keyboardist and session musician who played with everyone from Paul Simon to the O’Jays. Dupree was a session guitarist who played with an even broader range of artists, from Miles Davis to Andy Gibb. Gordon Edwards was an established bassist, who the year before recording Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley played bass on John Lennon’s album Mind Games.
The fourth member of the New York Rhythm Section was Bernard Purdie, creator of the “Purdie Shuffle,” and one of the most influential studio drummers of all time. By 1974, he’d already recorded with the likes of Herbie Hancock and Hall & Oates — and he would later gain fame for his work with the likes of Steely Dan.
One of the tracks featuring the New York Rhythm section also featured piano from Steve Winwood, who was famous for his work as a solo artist, as well as with Traffic, the Spencer Davis Group, and Blind Faith.
Lastly, the one track that featured neither The Meters nor the New York Rhythm Section had Simon Phillips on drums. Another phenomenal session player, Phillips would go on to drum for Tears For Fears, The Who, Judas Priest(!) and Toto.
It was, in short, a truly remarkable group of musicians who had already done some amazing things, and who would go on to play on hundreds of popular hits.
Let’s Talk About Songs
The album kicks off with “Sailin’ Shoes,” which is a Lowell George song that appeared on the 1972 Little Feat album of the same name. The backing band consists of George and The Meters, and the result (unsurprisingly) is New Orleans funk with some nice slide guitar work. Palmer’s vocals are strong. This is not the insouciant man of the world who conquered MTV. This is someone who is putting his back into it.
As “Sailin’ Shoes” begins to wind down, a wood-block percussion beat is introduced (courtesy of percussionist Jody Linscott), which segues into the second song: “Hey Julia.” The same backing vocalist, Vicki Brown, also appears on these first two tracks. This is actually a consistent theme across the first few songs on the album — they found ways to have the tracks slide into each other seamlessly. As a result, the first half of the album hangs together as a whole — despite the fact that so many different musicians contributed to it.
“Hey Julia” was written by Palmer and features the New York Rhythm Section with Scottish jazz guitarist Jim Mullen on guitar. The song has a sparse arrangement, leaving plenty of room for the players. Backing vocals from Palmer and Brown work with Linscott’s percussion to hold the whole thing together, with Mullen and the New York Rhythm Section primarily playing fills that accent Palmer’s vocal line.
It’s a great example of using space to define a song — it’s as much about what’s not there as it is about what people are playing. No strumming guitars. No striding piano. No driving backbeat. But everything you do hear sounds like it belongs there.
The third song is the title track, “Sneakin’ Sally Through the Alley.” Written by Allen Toussaint, it was originally recorded by New Orleans R&B artist Lee Dorsey. Dorsey’s version leads in with funky drums (while The Meters don’t play on this song for Palmer, they did back Dorsey when he recorded it), and features a powerful horn section.
Palmer’s interpretation goes in a different direction, kicking off with a guitar lick from Lowell George and held down by straight-ahead drumming from Simon Phillips. I can’t tell who plays bass on this track (one of blank spots in the credits for the album), but they’re very good. And it’s a strong vocal performance from Palmer. Of all the songs on this record, this one sounds the most like Palmer is being backed by Little Feat.
Track 4 is “Get Outside,” another Palmer original. The band here is Lowell George and the New York Rhythm Section. It starts off quietly, with nothing for the first 40 seconds or so but the occasional bass note or touch on the drum kit. Then it kicks into a slow, steady groove. Great piano playing here from Richard Tee, and Purdie is incredible. Just listening to the drumming here is worthwhile. Always in the pocket, but always finding ways to express himself. The decisions Purdie makes throughout the song are a clinic. And Palmer is clearly feeling it. Just a great track.
The next song is “Blackmail,” which was co-written by Palmer and Lowell George, but is one the few songs on the album that doesn’t feature George. Palmer is backed here by the New York Rhythm Section, and they kick it off with gospel piano and drums before settling into a piano-driven R&B number. It circles back to the gospel sound on the chorus with prominent horns and background vocals. It’s good, but not great.
Track 6 is “How Much Fun,” and it is pretty fun. Featuring George and The Meters, it starts with some greasy guitar licks, good piano and a very funky rhythm section. The only down side is that it is the first track on the album in which Palmer’s voice sounds a little flat. He sounds like a white guy from England who is in his mid-20s and is playing with a band that’s a lot cooler than he is. Part of what makes this album great is how often it doesn’t sound like this. Palmer loosens up as the song goes on, which is good. There’s also an interesting flute line in the back half of the song, courtesy of jazz flautist Mongezi Feza.
“From a Whisper to a Scream” is another song by Allen Toussaint, and it opens with wah-wah guitar before Palmer’s voice comes in. After a minute or so, The Meters come in, as does Lowell George’s slide guitar. It’s the first song on the album that is more rock ballad than R&B number, and it’s a good one. But on an album of strong tunes, it may be the most forgettable.
The last track on the album is “Through It All There’s You,” and it’s a doozy. Whereas every previous song on the album clocks in at less than five minutes — and several at less than three — this one stretches to more than 12 minutes. This is the track featuring Steve Winwood with the New York Rhythm Section — and Mongezi Feza plays here as well. Purdie’s drumming is fantastic, as usual. There’s excellent piano and organ (I don’t know which instrument is Winwood and which is Richard Tee — but both are great).
It’s by far the most jazz-influenced of any song on the album. If you’re looking for a catchy hook, there isn’t one. But if you want to hear some really gifted musicians lay down a mellow groove for 12 minutes, you’re in luck. Palmer is basically talk-singing through this one. And if that sounds kind of blah, I wouldn’t argue with you. And yet. And yet, I just really enjoy the heck out of it.
Is this one of the great albums of the 1970s? Probably not. Is it tremendous fun to listen to? I think it is. And it’s certainly worth noting as a conversation piece for the all-star musical lineup, if nothing else. So check it out. And let me know what you think.
