Chris Robinson of The Black Crowes reckons Jim Jones is one of his favourite artists — a claim he backed up by having the All Stars open for them. If you’ve ever seen Jones in any of his guises, that won’t surprise you for a second. What you get here is a distillation of rock ’n’ roll so filthy it’s like three-day-old KFC left under a stage light. Imagine if Robert Johnson went down to the crossroads and even the Devil thought, nah, I’m alright actually.
This hour shows you exactly why.
The title track opens proceedings and, frankly, “Get Down – Get With It” isn’t a suggestion — it’s a command. From there, “Cement Mixer” locks into place, the joy of the organ rubbing up against blues dirt until sparks fly. “Burning Your House Down” reveals something of the old-school bandleader in the way Jones delivers these songs; the piano is relentless, remorseless, a proper maelstrom that dares you to try and stand still.
By “Gimme The Grease”, things tip into genuinely unhinged territory. “Parchment Farm” — an old blues standard — has never sounded quite like this, stripped down to rock’s most primal instincts on “Let You Go” before “Goin’ Higher” bursts at the seams, sounding like it can barely contain itself.
The middle stretch flows almost as a stream of consciousness. “Soul Trader” bleeds into “I Want You (Any Way I Can)”, and frankly, God help whoever that song is aimed at. “Trogolodyte” then kicks the doors off entirely — if things have sounded off the wall before, my word.
And then, almost unexpectedly, things calm with “Lover’s Prayer”, before “Rock ’N’ Roll Psychosis” reminds you exactly what Jones has — and always has had — in spades. There are probably genuine balls of fire flying around on “The Princess & The Frog”, never mind Jerry Lee Lewis, before “Shakedown” and “Big Bird” administer one last bruising for good measure.
As ever, the credits roll with “512”, which in a different world could have been cut at Sun Records in 1958. And honestly — can you imagine the comeback special?
Live albums are tricky things, especially when the artist in question is so fundamentally geared towards the live experience. You never quite bottle that lightning. But “Get Down – Get With It” gets as close as you reasonably can. It captures the sweat, the danger, the sense that at any moment this thing could spin off the rails — and that’s exactly the point.
Rock ’n’ roll wasn’t meant to be polite.
Jim Jones All Stars remind you why.
