Published on Oct 30, 1998
Whenever people ask me who my influences regarding music were
when I was growing up, one aunt of mine almost immediately comes to
mind. Like myself, she is very much into music (though her tastes
dip into opera, and I don’t particularly like opera), and
constantly is testing me to see if there is a specific song I’ve
heard of or an album I can find.
She is also one of the hippest people I know. Recently, as
payment for an album search she asked me to do (meaning one day,
I’ll review that Jermaine Jackson album here), she picked up a copy
of Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble’s
In The Beginning. She’s recently gotten heavy into Vaughan’s
music (while I discovered him around the time of his tragic death
in 1990), and was surprised to hear that there was not a copy of
this album in the Pierce Archives (so long, WRCX-FM… you can’t
tell I’m a little upset about their format switch, can you?).
Released in 1992, this show from Austin, Texas in 1980 captures
the young bluesman and his bandmates (bassist Jackie Newhouse and
drummer Chris Layton) in one of the earliest appearances in their
career. Despite the band’s youthfulness (the liner notes state the
band had been a three-piece for only a few months), the hunger is
clearly here, and Vaughan’s prowess on the Stratocaster is amazing,
even at this early date. If only some of the material was more
exciting; Vaughan and crew rely on cover tunes far too much.
Granted, there might not have been a lot of original material
written, but the three “new” songs (at least in 1980 parlance)
contain a lot of life.
Of course, this isn’t to say that the cover versions are
anything to sneeze at. The opening track “In The Open” gives the
band a chance to settle into a comfortable groove before really
deciding to blow the doors off the joint. Same story applies to
“Tin Pan Alley,” which Vaughan stretches out just enough to let the
feeling sink in without wearing out his welcome. The same, however,
can’t be said for songs like “They Call Me Guitar Hurricane,” which
sounds like Vaughan stepping into a pair of shoes he’s not
comfortable wearing.
What is surprising is that Vaughan chose to open the show with
two instrumentals, “In The Open” and “Slide Thing”, the latter
being one of the three originals. Vaughan shows time and time again
on
In The Beginning that his pipes were fully developed; I just
wish that he chose to use them earlier in the show. Vaughan’s slide
work on “Slide Thing” is impressive, if not as flashy as his
fretboard magic.
The early version of “Love Struck Baby” is a keeper on this
album (even though the track is not in my top ten songs from
Vaughan’s catalog). The inclusion of some familiar ground is a
welcome addition to the album, and makes it a little more
accessible to the “dabbling” fan. Too bad that this is the only
such moment on the album. Again, if there were no more original
music written at the time, then I’m making an unfair comparison,
and I’m completely willing to admit to this.
In The Beginning‘s biggest flaw is that it seems to end just
when you really start getting into the show; “Live Another Day” is
the coda that comes far too soon. (This could also be a metaphor to
describe Vaughan’s time in the limelight.) At only nine songs, such
a collection seems far too short for someone as talented as he
was.
In The Beginning is an interesting historical picture of
life before superstardom for Vaughan. If only there were more
material on this album to appreciate.