Fred Lincoln “Link” Wray is best known as the pioneering electric guitarist responsible for such legendary instrumental hits as “Rumble” & “Rawhide.” Hailed by some as the man who “invented the power chord,” Rolling Stone magazine listed him at #67 in their Top 100 greatest guitarists of all-time. His influence on rock & roll is indisputable, as musicians from Pete Townsend to Jimmy Page to Jack Rose to Iggy Pop cite Wray as having a major impact on their careers.
However, rather than focus on things you probably already know, this feature will examine on a lesser-known period in Wray’s career during which he retreated to the family farm and recorded some great stripped down music steeped in the blues, country, gospel and folk music he grew up on.
The 1960s was a decade that saw great cultural and political change. In discussing “The Sixties,” it is widely understood that one is referring to the counterculture and its impact on the social norms of society. The music of the 60’s was dominated by the British Invasion and psychedelia. Toward the end of the decade, a countermovement against the bloated, dominant scene manifested itself with a number of artists adopting a backwards-reaching simplistic, rustic approach to making music. Some of the most notable examples of this include Bob Dylan’s John Wesley Harding, the first two albums from The Band, The Byrds’ Sweetheart of the Rodeo, and the emergence of Creedence Clearwater Revival from the epicenter of the counterculture movement, San Francisco.
Equally disillusioned with the scene and the seeking freedom from the “commercial” restrictions of the music industry, Link Wray “retired” to the family farm in Accokeek, MD in 1966. "I didn't try to get into that hippie scene," he said of his low profile during the late 1960's and 1970's. "They'd all be stoned on LSD and I'm very spiritual and never messed with no kinda drugs." Soon after arriving on the farm, he and his brother Vernon converted an old chicken shack into a lo-fi recording space complete with a 3-track recorder. They dubbed the place the “Three Track Shack” and spray painted it on the wall. In speaking of the experience, Link stated, "It's different working in the Shack. We just sit down, start the tape and play what we want. If it's good it's good and if it's bad it's bad. But there's no electronics - just the real nitty gritty. Honest music. When I'd be working in the studios in New York it'd be like working in a cathedral."
Over four plus years, Link, his brothers and a cast of musicians recorded dozens of songs at the Shack. The band utilized anything and everything they could find to help create the music. Cans filled with nails, raw wood, and foot stomps provided the percussion on a handful of tracks. The back-to-basics nature of the Shack sessions rekindled Link’s musical fire. Reflecting back on the change, Link recalled, "You get these studios with 16 tracks and 24 tracks and you get drunk with power. You start adding more and more to what you have and in the end it's becoming mechanical music, head music, all planned out. The feeling comes first. Feeling is the secret not some jumped up sound. I reckon that the days of the 24 track studios are over and there's going to be a return to simplicity."
The Shack sessions eventually yielded three commercially available albums – Link Wray (1971), Mordicai Jones (1971), and Beans and Fatback (1973). The Beatles’ label, Apple Records, originally sought to sign Link and release the material recorded at the Shack. However, he wound up inking a deal with Polydor Records. “Like I told you, I'm very spiritual. I drink Heineken, I drink beer, you know? So what I did, when that type of music, with the LSD audience and everything arose and started bein' popular, I just started playin' in this redneck club down in Maryland, called the Two Thieves Club. Down by the waterfront, you know? And I was playin' down in this club, playin' CCR and Elvis and (roots rock). And that's what I was doin' until Polydor...Actually it wasn't Polydor. The Beatles wanted me on Apple Records. And so they sent this here representative from New York City down to talk to me, (to see) if I'd record for Apple Records. I said, "Well I guess, you know..." (The rep) says, "Aw, the Beatles love Link Wray. They want Link Wray on their Apple label." So, they talked me into it, anyhow. After hours, after I got through playin' my redneck club, then I can go into the studio and do a little bit of recording. And I thought I was recording for Apple Records. But between the time I was recording and it got all mixed down, then some producer out of New York City goes up to my brother Ray, and all of a sudden I'm not on Apple Records. I'm on Polydor Records. You know, I still think there was money involved there. I don't know how. But anyhow, I just told my brother Ray, I said, "Well, you're not gonna cheat me this time. The songs this time's gonna be called "Link Wray." So that's when I signed up with BMI, on the Polydor stuff. That's the first time that I put my foot down and said, "Okay, my writing is gonna be called "Link Wray" from now on." Even though they still stole the publishing from me. At least I got my writer's.”
Despite strong promotion from Polydor, the first of the trilogy, Link Wray, did not sell very well. However, this album is a raw, gritty, greasy, swampy masterpiece that sits beside nicely with similar works of the era like the first 2 The Band records, Sticky Fingers, and Exile on Main St. Songs like "La De Da," "Juke Box Mama," "Fallin’ Rain," "Fire and Brimstone," and "God Out West" are essential pieces of the rich songbook of the era. Link’s cover of Willie Dixon’s “Tail Dragger” is noteworthy as well. If you are a fan of those better-known, more celebrated albums, you would be well-served seek out Link Wray’s eponymous recording.
After the lack of commercial success with Link Wray, Link & crew decided to shift gears and release the next album under the moniker, Mordicai Jones. Mordicai Jones was actually Link’s keyboardist, Bobby Howard. Singing duties on the album were also handled by Howard. Link was missing a lung due to a bout with tuberculosis in the 1950’s. One can just imagine how difficult it was for him to sing on the previous record. This, coupled with a desire to reach a wider audience, were factors in Link handing over singing responsibilities to Howard. Musically, the album maintains much of the primitive spirit present on the previous Shack recording.
The final album in the Shack Trilogy, Beans and Fatback, contains recordings that did not make the first Shack record. Most notably, the album has a harder, more rockin’ edge than the previous Shack albums. Staying true to his roots, Link does a fantastic cover of Leadbelly’s “In the Pines” and the traditional “Take My Hand (Precious Lord).” Also worth mentioning is the excellent original, “I'm So Glad, I'm So Proud.”
Largely forgotten and/or out or print, these records came back into the public eye in 2005 repackaged as a 2-CD collection from Arcadia Records titled Wray’s Three Track Shack. In the liner notes, music historian, John Collis, keenly observed the following, "In the late 1960s there was a studied attempt by such musicians as The Band, Neil Young, Guy Clark and David Ackles, all in their own way, to evoke a rock n roll version of Americana, of white clapboard chapels, dungareed farmers, dusty drifters and outlaws... It turned out that Link and his brothers had been playing the real thing all along, hidden away on the farm. The eponymous 1971 album grew out of the landscape, the struggles and the religious certainties of Link's own past. He didn't have to adopt the pose of a stubble-chinned homesteader. He was one." Sadly, Wray’s Three Track Shack is now out of print, too.
Essential Shack Tracks
"La De Da"
"Fire and Brimstone"
"Juke Box Mama"
"Fallin' Rain"
"God Out West"
"I'm So Glad, I'm So Proud"
"Tail Dragger"
"In the Pines"
"Take My Hand (Precious Lord)"
"Scorpio Woman"
"Days Before Custer"
