We celebrate the 201st installment of the podcast by revisiting one of our first subjects– the legendary Paul McCartney and his band Wings, with the non-album single “Junior’s Farm.”

Released in November 1974, this track developed during McCartney’s escape to a Nashville farm during a tumultuous time in his life, following the breakup of The Beatles. Join us as we explore the song’s origins, the dynamic lineup of Wings during this period, and the memorable guitar work of Jimmy McCulloch, who made his mark with this track. We’ll dissect the song’s unique structure, the production choices, and the whimsical lyrics that embody McCartney’s signature style. This episode is a deep dive into a classic that showcases the artistry and evolution of one of music’s most beloved figures.

“Junior’s Farm” (P. McCartney, L. McCartney) Copyright 1974 MPL Communications Ltd.

TRANSCRIPT:

Low life, high life, oh, let’s go down to the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. I’m your host, Brad Page, and we are here on the Pantheon Podcast Network– where fans belong– with another edition of the show where I pick one of my favorite songs and we explore it together.

For those of you keeping count, this is episode 201– the 201st episode of this podcast. Some of you have been with us since the very first episode, and you may remember that on our first show, episode one, we covered a song by Paul McCartney. It was a non-album track; actually, it was a B-Side. Well, here we are, exactly 200 episodes later, so I thought it would be nice to return to McCartney and another of his non-album tracks. This one was released as a single in November 1974; this is Paul McCartney and Wings with “Junior’s Farm”.

The seeds that would eventually develop into this song sprouted back in 1970, during the breakup of the Beatles. It’s a very contentious period for everyone involved; lots of business meetings with lawyers, and McCartney couldn’t wait for those meetings to end so he could escape to his farm in Scotland.

Cut to 1974, when McCartney and the current lineup of Wings, decamped to Nashville, Tennessee. They were invited to stay at a farm owned by Curly Putman, a Nashville songwriter. He was most famous for writing “Green Green Grass of Home”. Putman’s nickname just happened to be “Junior”.

The band’s visit to Tennessee was primarily to rehearse, but Buddy Killen, who had arranged their visit, also happened to own a studio called “Sound Shop”. So, of course, the band eventually ended up at that studio.

They would work up a handful of songs at Sound Shop, including a track called “Junior’s Farm”, which was actually the last song that they laid down at that studio. The band had been rehearsing the track out at the farm, so when they hit the studio, they were ready to record it more or less live.

This was an interesting period for Wings. The previous album, “Band On The Run”, had been recorded as a trio: Paul and Linda McCartney, and Denny Laine. But by this time, they had recruited two new members.

The first new addition was a 20-year-old Scottish guitarist named Jimmy McCulloch. Guitarist Jimmy McCulloch was something of a child prodigy. He started performing professionally when he was 14, and in 1969, when he was just 16, he joined Thunderclap Newman. They had a number one hit in England with “Something In The Air”, a track produced by Pete Townsend of The Who.

After that band split, Jimmy worked on a number of projects and did session work for John Entwistle and Harry Nilsson, and eventually joined the band Stone The Crows. He met Paul McCartney in August of 1973.

Paul’s brother Mike McCartney, better known as Mike McGear, was recording a solo album, and Paul had agreed to produce it. He did more than just produce it, though. He co-wrote most of the songs, and it’s almost a stealth Wings album as Paul, Linda and Denny play on every song… and Jimmy McCulloch was invited to play on the album too. Essentially, it was Jimmy’s audition for Wings, and by May of 1974, Jimmy became a member of Wings.

The next task was to find a new drummer. Paul let the word get out that he was looking for a new drummer, and after his office was deluged with over 400 phone calls, Paul narrowed the list down to 52 drummers who were invited to audition. And out of all those auditions, five finalists were selected. And in the end, a drummer named Geoff Britton was selected.

Geoff was from London, and he had played in a band called East Of Eden, and then with the Wild Angels. One of the songs he jammed on with Paul, Linda, Denny and Jimmy as part of his audition was an early version of “Junior’s Farm”, though it didn’t have a title yet. Like Jimmy, Geoff Britton became a member of Wings in May 1974.

\And this was the lineup that arrived at Curly Putman’s Farm in June of that summer.  Along with Geoff Britton on drums and Jimmy McCulloch on guitar, “Junior’s Farm” features Denny Laine on guitar and backing vocals, Linda McCartney on percussion, Fender Rhodes electric piano and backing vocals, and Paul McCartney on bass and lead vocal. The song was written by Paul and Linda McCartney, and produced by Paul. It was released on November 1, 1974 on Apple Records. This would be McCartney’s final release on Apple.

The song begins with an intro featuring harmonized guitar leads by Jimmy McCulloch and Denny Laine. The core parts of the song had been worked out for a while, but the intro and outro were late additions to the song. They came up with this intro just prior to entering the studio to start recording. Let’s hear just those guitars.

And that brings us into the main groove of the song, which makes up the verse section. You can hear McCartney interject a couple of “Ha”s in there. Before we get to the verse, let’s back that up again.

That is the first of many tasty guitar parts that Jimmy McCulloch adds to this song. This was Jimmy’s debut as Wings’ new guitar player, and he comes out of the gate firing on all cylinders here. Great guitar work by Jimmy all through this song. Jimmy McCulloch is one of my favorite guitar players, so we’re gonna pay attention to his playing throughout this track.

One of the interesting choices in the production of this song is the use of that phasing effect on the vocals throughout the song. That effect is also applied to the guitar at times, too.

That effect was not part of the original recording or the initial mixes done in Nashville. When McCartney returned to England, he made several more attempts to remix the song with various engineers, but he wasn’t happy with any of those mixes. Eventually, in October ‘74, McCartney let an engineer named Alan O’Duffy have a crack at mixing it. And one of the things O’Duffy added was that phasing effect. And this was the mix that finally met McCartney’s approval. That phasing effect particularly stands out on the chorus.

This song has always seemed to have somewhat of an unusual structure, to me anyway.  There are two verses, then the first chorus, and then a guitar solo. Then there are two more verses, two more choruses, a repeat of the intro, then two more verses; one is a repeat of the first verse; two final choruses, and the outro. But it always seemed to me that this guitar solo comes awfully early in the song. I would have expected it to come much later, but here it is, and it is a great guitar solo. It feels improvised. It was clearly done in one take; it’s a little rough around the edges, but it is so well-structured. It flows perfectly, and it’s melodic enough that you could sing it. It’s everything I want in a guitar solo. First, let’s hear the guitar track.

Now let’s hear that in context. And I always loved how McCartney calls out Jimmy by name before he starts to solo.

You get the feeling Paul was happy to show off his hot new guitar player.

That brings us to the third and fourth verses. The lyrics to the song don’t really mean anything. The chorus is just about McCartney’s desire to get out of the city and escape to his farm. The verses don’t really make any sense… they’re not supposed to. McCartney has written a number of songs filled with oddly impressionistic lyrics, and this is one of them. There’s the poker man, the Eskimo, and the sea lion from the first two verses.  This time around, we hear about Parliament, the President. He also references Ollie Hardy– if you remember Laurel and Hardy, the comedy team who were around from the 1920s to the 1950s– and he mentions something about Hardy buying a Gee-Gee who jumped the fence. Gee-Gee is apparently British slang for a race horse.

Let’s bring up the vocals for these two verses.

That brings us back to the chorus. So let’s listen to that, and again, notice that phasing effect on the vocals.

They repeat the chorus again here. That leads into a repeat of the introduction.  The first time around, we listened to just the guitars, so this time let’s hear what the bass and the drums are doing during this part.

Let’s hear the final mix, and notice how that phasing effect is applied to the guitars here.

McCartney’s adding in those “Ha”s again.

Let’s back out the vocals and listen to just the instrumental tracks. For this verse, Denny Laine’s guitar and Linda’s electric piano are primarily in the left channel, while Jimmy McCulloch’s guitar is leaned to the right, and it’s mixed quite a bit higher.

With the vocals in place, there’s one new verse, and then a repeat of the first verse, but this time with harmony vocals added.

Let’s hear just the vocals on that last verse and leading into the chorus.

And that closes out the body of the song and brings us into the outro– completely new part. This was a brand-new section that McCartney came up with in the studio as they recorded it. It was not worked out in advance.

They start to play a few notes of the intro– this time Paul doubles it on his bass– but then they hold a note and shift down to E minor in a dramatically different feel.

Okay, let’s examine a few things here, starting with the guitar part under this section.

And let’s listen to McCartney’s vocal here. This is his most intense vocal performance of the whole song. But before he lays into it, there’s a little bit of studio chatter that was left on the tape. Let’s hear all of that.

And Jimmy McCulloch gets in a few more nice bits before the song plays out. So let’s hear his guitar part.

Let’s put all those pieces back together and listen to the outro in full.

Wings – “Junior’s Farm”.

This lineup of Wings didn’t last long. After recording a handful of tracks in Tennessee, the band returned to England. The McCartneys headed to their High Park Farm in Scotland, where Paul could write some new songs. In late August, the band reconvened at Abbey Road to film a live-in-the-studio performance. Paul had a vision of releasing this as a television special that he wanted to call “One Hand Clapping”. But that footage remained unreleased until 2024.

The band began recording some new material in England in the fall, and then flew to New Orleans to work on what would become the “Venus And Mars” album. But after only a week, it was decided that Geoff Briton just wasn’t the right fit, and he was dismissed in January 1975… his tenure in Wings having lasted seven months.

Jimmy McCulloch was always a mercurial presence in the band; he was young, he was brash, and when he was under the influence of one substance or another, he could be pretty tough to deal with. But he was a brilliant player and a valuable contributor, so McCartney put up with it.  But eventually it just became too much, and Jimmy was let go from Wings in August of 1977.

Jimmy would go on to join the reformed Small Faces, but that didn’t last long. There was a short-lived attempt to put a band together with Brian Robertson from Thin Lizzy, but that fell apart quickly. He recorded one album with The Dukes, which had some promise… but on September 27, 1979, Jimmy McCulloch died from heart failure due to morphine and alcohol poisoning. He was just 26 years old.

Jimmy’s name never appears on the list of top guitarists from the 1970’s, but he’s always on my list of favorites. He could always be relied upon to deliver a concise, tasteful, memorable guitar solo. “Junior’s Farm” is a perfect example of that. I love Jimmy McCulloch’s playing.

 Thanks for listening to this edition of the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast. I used a few different resources to put this episode together, including an article in Mix Magazine by Barbara Schultz, and especially the fantastic book “The McCartney Legacy, Volume 2” by Alan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair.  Gotta give them all credit for their hard work, and I highly recommend that book for any hardcore McCartney fan.

New episodes of this show come out on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so I’ll meet you back here in about two weeks. If you’d like to support the show, you can head over to oldglory.com and buy yourself a T-shirt or some band merch. They have stuff in stock from all your favorite artists, including plenty of Beatles and McCartney stuff. So place an order and use our discount code “LoveThatSong” to save 15%. That’s oldglory.com, discount code LoveThatSong, save 15%, and you’ll be helping to support this show. So thanks.

You can communicate with us on Facebook, just search for the “I’m In Love With That Song podcast”, you’ll find us.  Or email us at lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com.

Share this episode with your friends and family and help spread the word. I’ll see you back here next time. Now, let’s all head down to “Junior’s Farm” — everybody tag along. Take me down, Jimmy!

As Mardi Gras approaches, what better way to celebrate than by diving into the rich musical heritage of one of New Orleans’ favorite sons? In this week’s episode, we explore one of the city’s most iconic musicians, Dr. John, and his classic track, “I Walk on Gilded Splinters“. Released in 1968, this song is a perfect example of the unique blend of voodoo culture and psychedelic sound that characterizes Dr. John’s early work.

I Walk on Gilded Splinters” is a mesmerizing track that runs over seven and a half minutes long, inviting listeners into a hypnotic soundscape and creates an immersive atmosphere that reflects the voodoo rituals Dr. John was inspired by. The lyrics are steeped in Creole culture, featuring references to voodoo spirits and the vibrant life of New Orleans.

So, whether you’re preparing for Mardi Gras festivities or simply curious about this spellbinding track, tune in to this episode and immerse yourself in the captivating world of Dr. John, The Night Tripper.

“I Walk On Guilded Splinters” – John Creaux [Mac Rebennack] Copyright 1967 Warner-Tamerlane Publishing Corp and Skull Music

TRANSCRIPT:

Welcome back to the “I’m In Love With That Song” podcast, part of the Pantheon family of podcasts. I’m Brad Page, your host and each episode, I dive into my record collection and come up with one of my favorite songs for us to explore here on the podcast. Don’t worry if you’re not a musician, because we don’t get deep into music theory or technical jargon here. We’re just gonna listen closely to discover what makes these songs great.

This is Mardi Gras season this year, Mardi Gras is coming up in a few days. So I thought this year, we’d celebrate by exploring one of my favorite songs by New Orleans’ favorite son, Dr. John, from his very first album back in 1968– a classic track called “I Walk On Guilded Splinters”.  

Malcolm “Mac” Rebennak Jr. was born in New Orleans in November 1941. He grew up with music all around him, a musical family in a music musical city. It’s no surprise he fell in love with the local music scene. Mac initially picked up the guitar, because there were so many great piano players in New Orleans that he figured he’d have a better chance getting gigs if he was a guitar player.

He started working young. He was about 12 years old when he started playing gigs, and soon he was playing on sessions in the studio. Working with older musicians was a great learning experience, but he also picked up some pretty bad habits. By the time he was in his teens, he was using heroin.

He did a lot of session work for Cosimo Matasa, the legendary producer. And Mac was writing songs too.

On Christmas Eve 1961, Mac tried to break up a fight. But when a gun went off, Mac almost lost a finger on his left hand. Until it healed, he couldn’t really play guitar, so he switched to playing piano– the instrument he’d eventually become famous for.

Many of the New Orleans musicians Mac had been working with ended up in Los Angeles, playing on sessions with the legendary Wrecking Crew. After a short stint in Angola prison, Mac followed them to LA and started doing a lot of session work himself. He played on tons of records during this period, but frankly, he didn’t like most of the songs he was playing on. He just didn’t care much for pop music at all.

It was around this time that he came up with the character of “Dr. John”. He based his Dr. John Persona on a real-life character named Bayou John Montaigne, who supposedly taught voodoo to Marie Laveau.

So, he created this figure of “Dr. John, The Night Tripper” voodoo doctor, with a whole theatrical stage presentation, mixing voodoo ritual, stage magic, Mardi Gras spectacle, and of course, performed by authentic New Orleans musicians.

He assembled the former New Orleans musicians now living in LA, and they cut an album steeped in the sounds and rhythms of New Orleans, but with its own unique approach, bordering on psychedelic. Some of the songs were versions of old traditional numbers, others were new compositions. Some were based on actual voodoo ceremonial melodies. The album was given the name “Gris Gris”, a kind of a ritual object, a lucky charm or totem, and it was released in January 1968. It still remains one of the most mysterious, spooky records I’ve ever heard.

It was produced by Harold Batiste and performed by Dr. John on vocals, keyboards and percussion; Harold Batiste on bass and clarinet and percussion, Richard “Dr. Ditmus” Washington also on percussion; Bob West on bass, John Boudreaux on drums; Plas Johnson on saxophone; Louis Boulden on flute; Steve Mann on slide guitar and banjo; Dr. McLean on guitar and mandolin, Mo Pedido on congas and Dave Dixon, Jesse Hill, Ronnie Baron, Johnny Jones, Prince, Ella Johnson, Shirley Goodman, Sonny Race Durden and Tammy Lynn on backing vocals.

One quick note before we get started: this song at over seven and a half minutes long, is longer than most of the songs we cover on this show. And much of it is about setting a mood, creating an atmosphere. So there are some long stretches, but we’ll work our way through it. It’ll be worth it, because this is such a great track.

It begins with the bass guitar, some percussion and, quieter in the mix, an acoustic guitar played with a slide. And all of this is primarily in the left channel.

And Dr. John is going to join in with the first verse. You know it’s him right away. Even back then on his very first album, he had one of the most distinctive voices you’ll ever hear.

The song is steeped in New Orleans voodoo culture. Dr. John based it on a song he had heard sung by voodoo practitioners. And so we’ll hear a lot of voodoo terms and vocabulary, along with that Cajun French unfamiliar to many of us outside of Louisiana. Let’s hear the doctor’s vocal track.

In the lyrics, he mentions “Le Grand Zombie”, which is a reference to a powerful serpent spirit. Serpents are believed to hold unspoken knowledge, and voodoo devotees communicate with the spirit world through them. You also hear him refer to “The King of the Zulu”. King of the Zulu is the central figure in the Mardi Gras parade. And as for the song title, “Gilded Splinters”, according to some, gilded splinters are the points of a planet, related to astrology. However, Dr. John himself said that in the original song, they sung of “gilded splendors”, but he changed it to “splinters” because he just liked the sound, and the visual, of gilded splinters.

The chant like vocals of the backing singers are panned to the right channel. The stereo mix of this track is somewhat unusual, with all of the instruments panned either hard left or hard right. The only thing in the center is Dr. John’s lead vocal. So, in the left channel, you’ve got the traditional drum kit, the congas, bass guitar, acoustic guitar, a couple of saxophones. Then in the right channel, you have the backing vocals, snapping fingers and hand claps, and a talking drum. More on that in a bit.

The backing vocals are followed by that melody played on a soprano saxophone and doubled on the bass guitar. The melody reminds me of a snake charmer, like you’d hear in one of those old movies.

Now, I used to think they’re singing “Till I burn up” during that part. But what they’re actually singing is “Tell Alberta”. Dr. John had spent two years in prison when he was young on a drug charge.  Apparently, whether it was the prison he was in or a story he was told about another prison, one of the jail blocks was named “Alberta”. And sometimes the inmates would pass information, send signals between blocks, by calling out and echoing the message from block to block. And you can visualize that just by listening to the performance. Dr. John calls out, “Tell Alberta”. And then the backing singers repeat the message, one by one, and we can hear it as the message travels further down the line.

I like how he stutters as he says he can make you stutter, emphasizing the point.

Next, as they chant the chorus, they preface it with some unfamiliar phrases to those of us outside of Creole culture. The expressions “con boonay”, “kili” and “con con” are actually Creole terms for grilled corn, coffee and molasses. It may seem odd to be singing about food in a song like this, but, as in many cultures, preparing and eating food is part of ritual and celebration.

And another iteration of the “Tell Alberta” call.

Here, he references Coco Robicheaux, a character from New Orleans legend: a child abducted by a werewolf. There was a well-known Louisiana musician who adopted the name Coco Robicheaux, and supposedly he was a friend of Dr. John’s. But most likely, in the context of this song, it’s referring to that old legend, not to a contemporary musician.

He’s inviting you down to his soiree. You, your mammy, your cousin. Bring the whole family.

The backing singers get louder in the right channel as Dr. John vamps over the top. Notice the baritone sax in the left channel, playing low droning notes.

The repetition of the chant and the groove. This is essentially a one-chord song, a drone, and at a somewhat slow pace; the track clocks in at around 90 beats per minute. The combination of the tempo, the drone and the repetition make this song quite hypnotic. The song has been referred to as “voodoo psychedelia” and you can certainly feel that.

Most of the instruments are playing repeated patterns, but the talking drum in the right channel is pretty freely improvising, I think.  The talking drum is a West African instrument, sort of hourglass-shaped, with drum heads on both ends. You change the pitch of the drum by squeezing it in the middle. It’s an instrument that dates back to the 18th century.

There’s an electric guitar in here now, playing a simple accent chord.

We we’re about five minutes deep into this track, and here it takes a bit of a break for a conga solo, which is still primarily in the left channel.

Then the “Tell Alberta” call and response returns. And here, with only the percussion playing, you can really hear the spatial presence of the vocals. Dr. John is front and center as if we’re in the cell block with him. And as he calls out, we can hear the next voices echo his call, each one sounding a little further away as the call is relayed throughout the prison. It’s like a mini audio play.

And the chorus chant returns, as does the snake charmer melody. And then the band chimes back in.

For the last minute or so of the track, it doesn’t fade out in the traditional sense. The band gets quieter, and maybe more distant, as the vocals are first reduced to a whisper, and eventually just wordless vocalizations, whistles, grunts, noises. The song doesn’t end so much as it dissipates like smoke.

Dr. John, The Night Tripper – “I Walk On Guilded Splinters”

The album was not commercially successful when it was released; it didn’t make the charts in the US or the UK, but over time it has earned a reputation as an essential, important album, frequently turning up on lists of the greatest albums of all time. It’s a one-of-a-kind album in terms of the songs on it and the way it sounds. There is simply nothing else like this album.

Dr. John, Mac Rebennack, would go on to have a long career. He recorded a ton of albums. Many of them, I think, are classic. He lived with heroin addiction for decades. It’s a miracle he survived, really. But in 1989, he finally got clean.

He consistently released albums from the late ’60s up through 2014. He had a little bit of a renaissance in 2012 when he recorded an album with Dan Auerbach of The Black Keys called “Locked Down”.

On June 6, 2019, Mac Rebennak passed away from a heart attack. He was 77 years old.

I hope you enjoyed this taste of New Orleans, Creole culture and a little voodoo on the side. New episodes of this podcast are released on the 1st and the 15th of every month, so the next edition will be heading your way soon. Until then, there are almost 200 other episodes of this show waiting for you to discover, so feel free to check out any of those past episodes on our website, lovethatsongpodcast.com, or find them on your favorite podcast app. Communicate with us on Facebook, or send an email to lovethatsongpodcast@gmail.com.

And if you’d like to support the show, the best thing you can do is to tell a friend about it– Share it with your friends and family. The more listeners, the better.

However you choose to celebrate Mardi Gras this year, please do it safely.  And on behalf of everyone on the Pantheon Podcast Network, “Laissez les bons temps rouler”. Now, go get some gumbo and crank up some Dr. John.

TRANSCRIPT: