This one’s for Big Don….
Before we even get started on the music, there are some interesting facts about Donald Byron Wheatley.
First, prior to this debut album he has never performed on stage and he has never recorded any of his songs.
The obvious “why now?” question is where things get really delightful. “Moondogs and Mad Dogs” is essentially an album for his father, “Big Don” Wheatley, who was a legendary showman (Wheatley is from a long line of fairground showmen, stretching back some 150 years). Following his dad’s death Wheatley began tuning some of the song ideas he’d always had in his head into something real, always with the idea that he wrote something Wheatley Snr would enjoy.
Encouraged in this regard by his cousin John (Suburban Dirts), who along with Chris Clarke (Danny And The Champions Of The World) acts as producer here, they were able to call on a band which features various members of Danny And The Champions Of The World – Clarke, Steve Brookes, Andy Fairclough – alongside Siobhan Parr and pedal steel legend BJ Cole.
Now to the results, because, the results are stunning.
The key thing here is that no one is trying to claim that this is groundbreaking. But they do offer a new slant on sounds you might have heard before. No one, for example could fail to spot that “Life’s A Beach” sounds like “Subterranean Homesick Blues” but equally there is a very British idea here that “Jesus was the son of God, but it always strikes me odd, what kind of father sends his son to do his dirty jobs?”
And so it goes. There is a wonderful use of organ on “Smoking Gun” and the lyrics bring to mind Van Morrison, the harmonica on “The Lonesome Carol Of Big Don” makes that one gleeful and fun, while “Josephine” struts some kind of funky stuff and does so as if it doesn’t have a care in the world.
There is some brilliantly clever songwriting here too. “Ten Dollar Jenny” is Dylan gone soulful and the evocative line “she’s a broom, you’re just dust on her floor” is superb, as is the slide guitar solo.
“Hand Me Down Leopard Skin Hat” Is the kind of retro bar room stomp that the likes of Jim Jones usually makes his own, while the thought that this is the sort of record that doesn’t give a toss about boundaries is all over “Fighting For Sunlight” with its West Coast shimmer.
“When The Rain Comes” is another that takes us into other areas, stark and stripped down, there is an Indian mysticism about it, before a horn section kicks in to move it somewhere else entirely.
One of the longer songs, “Nothing” gives Wheatley a chance to scratch his John Lennon itch, while the line “they just don’t make ‘em like that anymore” is in the timeless “Swaley Howell” for good reason.
A record that proves that Donald Byron Wheatley can pretty much be whatever he wants to be, casts him as a road weary troubadour on “Greenwich Village Blues”, but it is perhaps the closing title track that takes the honours as the best song here. Laid back, countrified and superb, it takes all the ideas here and ties up any loose ends: “Son of a poor boy” offers its key line – and the theme of fathers and sons is never too far from thoughts here.
Wherever his musical career takes him, then no one can take “Moondogs And Mad Dogs” away from Donald Byron Wheatley. If this is his only record then that doesn’t matter. Because first it’s a fine collection and second you can bet Big Don would be proud – and here, that was all that ever mattered.
Rating 8.5/10
