You could call Boogie Shoes a homecoming of sorts. A native son of Memphis, Alex Chilton adopted New Orleans as his new home in 1982—with typically perverse logic, the Big Star leader headed to the famously decadent city to get sober, a gambit that paid off—but his connection to the birthplace of rock’n’soul remained strong. When Memphis promoter David Less summoned him in the fall of 1999 to play Fredstock, a charity show for the ailing Fred Ford, a Memphis musical fixture who co-founded the Beale Street Music Festival in 1977, Chilton heeded the call, albeit reluctantly.
As Less recounts in the liner notes for Boogie Shoes, an archival release of that October 7, 1999 set at the New Daisy Theatre, Chilton needed some convincing to return to Memphis. He claimed, absurdly, that there were no musicians in town he could play with. That’s when Less played a trump card: Chilton would be backed by the Hi Rhythm Section. The house band of Memphis’ Hi Records—featuring the Hodges brothers, guitarist Mabon “Teenie,” keyboardist Charles, and bassist Leroy; drummer Howard Grimes; and keyboardist Archie “Hubie” Mitchell, aka Archie Turner—had played on era-defining hits by Al Green and Ann Peebles. The opportunity to sing a set of classic soul covers with such an illustrious outfit proved irresistible to Chilton. Twenty-two years later, his joy at sharing the stage with them is apparent on every one of Boogie Shoes’ 10 rousing tracks.
Chilton was no stranger to R&B. He cut his teeth as a teenage soul singer fronting the Box Tops in the 1960s, growling with a rasp that owed no small debt to Ray Charles. He’d leave this affectation behind as he fronted the legendary power-pop outfit Big Star, eventually developing a laconic drawl that served him well whether he was slumming as a solo act in punk clubs or playing fairs with a reunited Box Tops. The Fred Ford charity show gave Chilton a chance to apply his vocal tricks to a set of R&B warhorses, their familiarity helping to draw attention to his eccentricities. Chilton avoids soul clichés. He bends melodies, making sure they’re recognizable while landing slightly off-center. He rolls the lyrics around in his mouth, delivering phrases as if they’re punchlines to in-jokes. He sings with humor but without a trace of irony; throughout Boogie Shoes, he seems as if he’s on the verge of breaking out in a grin or a smirk.
Acting as the bandleader—he never rehearsed with the Hi Rhythm Section, and just called out songs onstage—Chilton sticks to material he and the audience know by heart. Occasionally, he hauls out songs associated with Memphis, chief among them “634-5789 (Soulsville, U.S.A.),” a 1966 hit for Wilson Pickett whose subtitle became the nickname for the city’s legendary Stax Records. Chilton’s Boogie Shoes setlist is notable for how many different styles of ’60s R&B he and the Hi Rhythm Section tackle. They salute Motown by covering the Supremes’ “Where Did Our Love Go,” pay tribute to New Orleans by playing Fats Domino’s rollicking “Hello Josephine,” dabble in rock’n’roll with Chuck Berry’s “Maybellene,” and even reconfigure KC & the Sunshine Band’s disco classic “Boogie Shoes” as Southern-fried soul.
What ties it all together is the Hi Rhythm Section: They play each of these selections as if they emanated from the heart of Memphis, anchoring the oldies with a cool, supple groove that conveys the sound of the city. The Hi Rhythm Section were among the best musicians Memphis ever produced, reason enough for a wayward son like Chilton to come back home for a night. The chemistry between the singer and the band makes Boogie Shoes something more than a good time. No other Alex Chilton record captures the often cantankerous singer sounding so relaxed, or in such high spirits.
Buy: Rough Trade
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