May 25, 2020 by A.S. Van Dorston

Ripley Johnson’s solo project Rose City Band was initially meant to be an anonymous release, his name not listed anywhere, released under the radar on private press. I had no idea, because in my world, anything coming from Johnson is worth noting, and to my ears the vocals were recognizable as Johnson within the first few seconds. It was allegedly ignored and underrated, but not at Fast ‘n’ Bulbous, where the album made #21 in the year-end list.

On the debut’s release, I wrote this about it — “A hypnotic fusion of country folk and kosmische, veering off the autobahn onto country roads, but with hallucinogenic neon colored landscapes. I can’t single out particular songs, but as a whole it’s totally addictive, perfect for endless replays.” In fact, based solely on repeated plays, it might have challenged for album of the year. It added new meaning to the idea of “easy listening,” it’s laid back grooves could just as easily gently ease you into the morning as it later melts into the fading daylight at dusk. One would think this type of music is ubiquitous, which is why it’s undervalued. But the key is while there are thousands of hours worth of wallpaper-like background music, I have no desire to revisit most of it.

But I was chuffed and fluffed to find a second album, Summerlong, released barely a year later on Thrill Jockey. The country vibes are less overt but still haunt the grooves like the silhouettes of ghost riders that you swear you just saw until you blink and they disappear in the summer haze. That said, the first track “Only Lonely” does feature the most obvious country & western flavor. “Morning Light,” features some lovely hooks that remind me of The Feelies’ bucolic masterpiece The Good Earth (1986). “Reno Shuffle” has a gently stomping T. Rex vibe. But the album also benefits from the amorphous, spacey tracks like “Floating Out” and “Wee Hours >,” because those looking for obvious stand-outs are missing the point.

As Rose City Band, Johnson still writes distinct songs that you can engage with individually even as they blend together. It’s not such an easy thing to do, but for nearly an entire year, it reminded me of something else that I couldn’t put my finger on. The Suicide/Neu! influences that drive his Moon Duo project lurk in the background, as does The Doors and Crazy Horse via Wooden Shjips. Grateful Dead (shudder), a little, but not too much thankfully. 1969-era Velvet Underground most certainly is part of it’s DNA. There’s trace elements of rockabilly boogie via Gene Vincent and Johnny Burnette via T. Rex, check. John Lee Hooker’s chuggin’ bluees, check. The smoove and undulating blues licks of early Dire Straits, possibly. Definitely an element of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s chooglin’ classics. But the elements of country and New Orleans R&B are much more subtly integrated into a creamy Americana sauce that is distinct from all those influences. Where does that secret choogle sauce come from?

It wasn’t until a recent interview where Johnson spilled the beans himself, saying that the balm which infuses into him is mellow, easy-going rock like J.J. Cale. Yes! I couldn’t think of it because I literally had not directly listened to Cale (covers of his music is ubiquitous of course) for over 25 years, when I had decided it was not my thing. Mainly because I was in my 20s, and my brain was still fizzing with hormones and had little use for laid-back cosmic, chooglin’ Americana.

J.J. Cale is perhaps one of the most widely heard musicians who many don’t know by name, thanks to a long-running connection and ultimately friendship with Eric Clapton. Cale grew up in the musically rich environment of Tulsa, Oklahoma. In Oklahoma City, jazz and blues guitar heroes Charlie Christian and T-Bone Walker cut their teeth in the many clubs in the 30s and early 40s. Young Johnny Cale played Western and Swing in the 50s before getting into and rock ‘n’ roll as Johnny Cale & The Valentines.

He even messed with garage psych during his stint as a producer/engineer in L.A. for The Leathercoated Minds on A Trip Down Sunset Strip (1967). They had impeccable taste for covers (Byrds’ “Eight Miles High,” Yardbirds’ “Over Under Sideways Down,” “Psychotic Reaction,” “Sunshine Superman”) but their versions were inferior to the originals as one would expect. However, there are a handful of instrumentals all written by Cale that are interesting, you can hear the seeds of his style. His spare, clean, slow to medium tempo guitar picking was pretty singular. Nick Drake, John Martyn, Marc Bolan and even Lou Reed mirrored some aspects of the simplicity, but none could pack decades of jazz, blues, country & western and psychedelia into a minimalist style.

He had a one-off single “After Midnight” in 1965 that Eric Clapton discovered and covered on his 1970 solo album, which jump-started Cale’s career at the “ripe, old age” of 32. With his engineering background, he used a drum machine on his first album, Naturally (1971), recorded in Nashville. Few realized at the time that he had done that, so that aspect of his pioneering work went unnoticed. So when he went more heavily electronic on Number 10 (1992), it wasn’t really new to him. Tone down the drums on “Lonesome Train,” and it’s pretty much exactly a template for Rose City Band.

While his first album is the most perfect distillation of his style, all of his first seven albums are worth hearing. After the poorly received #8 (1983), he took a break. When asked what he was up to, he said, he mowed his lawn and listened to a lot of Van Halen and rap. He also did some travelling, which was documented in Travel-Log (1990), which compiled songs he recorded between 1984-89. Coming down after a three decade cocaine binge (Cale’s “Cocaine” also happened to be one of Clapton’s biggest hits), he finally decided to throw his friend a bone and recorded The Road To Escondito (2006). It probably would have been better without Clapton on it, though it at least got him a Grammy. This point was proven on the superior Roll On (2009), probably his best album since Troubadour (1976). He died in 2013, and the next year, Clapton assembled an all-star cast to celebrate his songs on The Breeze (An Appreciation of JJ Cale), including Tom Petty, Mark Kopfler, Willie Nelson, Derek Trucks and Cale’s wife Christine Lakeland.

About being known as the epitome of “laid-back,” his response was accordingly low-key and humble: “I guess I go along with that… When I was a real young fellow and played in bands, just as a guitar player, I played a lot more rock ‘n’ roll, but when I got into songwriting and had to sing, since I only have about a two-note range, it was easier to do mellow stuff and grooves.” And cosmic choogles.