When I first came to live in Korea back in 2006, I gradually began to notice where the record stores were — and by 'were' I mean where they happened to be prior to when the bulk of them disappeared. From there, I began to root around them. While some, like the increasingly minuscule Hottracks located within Seoul's flagship Kyobo Books, Co-Ex Mall's Evan's and the hipper than hip Purple Music in the trendy Hongdae area, were very well organized, many others could be chaotic. The Myeongdong district is still home to Buruttrak which no doubt makes for comfy browsing if you happen to dig K-Pop but if you wish to look around upstairs, the task is much more of a hassle. Boxes block shelved CDs and I nearly tripped and fell down the stairs the last time I paid them a visit. (Still, I'll be back) The same went for the unnamed store in Bupyeong's shopping arcade which always seemed to carry enough stock for a space three times the size.
I was really getting into jazz at the time and I found that they all had excellent selections of the genre. But there were two acts I'd always see among Art Blakey, the Modern Jazz Quartet and Ben Webster whose inclusion would puzzle me. One was Steely Dan. I think I knew that Donald Fagen and Walter Becker had an affinity for the genre but they always struck me as a rock group with jazzy tendencies. The other was country guitarist Chet Atkins. My initial reaction on finding him in the jazz section was that they must've had him mixed up with Chet Baker. It might have been possible had this been an isolated case but every Korean record store I visited did this. Granted, these shops didn't tend to be packed with country artists. Some would have the likes of Johnny Cash, Gram Parsons and Willie Nelson but they'd all be filed under Pop/Rock. But not the man who was responsible for the Nashville sound.
I've since learned that Steely Dan and Chet Atkins share something in common that may explain why Korean record stores classified them both as jazz: because they both sort of were. With a pair of smart alecs who were doubtless convinced they were god's gift to the recording studio, it was very on brand to be lumped in with American music's great improvisers but the case is less clear when it comes to Atkins. But a hint of it may be found in Bill Justis' 1957 smash "Raunchy" because it is that rarest of things: a rock 'n' roll record that had one eye on country and western and another on jazz. This seems like a good idea but it ended up being a better record on paper than in practice.
Perhaps its biggest weakness is its refusal to pick a lane. Had Justis performed it with a flair for improv, the solos would be much more dynamic. It's easy to picture a playful version by George Shearing or as yet another example of Oscar Peterson's stunning virtuosity had it become a jazz standard. If you'd rather stick to the guitar, the great studio ace Barney Kessel could've done a ripping rendition on one of those superb Poll Winners albums alongside Shelly Manne and Ray Brown or Blue Note stud Grant Green could've stretched it out and turned it into one of those marvelous soul jazz pieces from the mid-sixties with the likes of Lee Morgan and Jimmy Smith. From a country perspective, it could've been turned into a fantastic bluegrass number, the sort of thing Chris Hillman's Desert Rose Band might have done or the type of cover you might find on the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band's classic Will the Circle Be Unbroken.
And, yet, the recording of "Raunchy" that topped the charts in Canada and very nearly did the same in the US just is. The riff is no doubt memorable but it doesn't go anywhere. A budding young guitarist like George Harrison aspired to ape Justis' playing (as did Paul McCartney who apparently couldn't quite pull it off) but there's little to see here beyond what it was that more accomplished musicians were able to extract from it. It's that sort of record that is of interest because Harrison supposedly played it for The Quarry Men on a bus in Liverpool which would become a critical moment in the formation of The Beatles but where's the value in actually listening to it more than once?
It's fascinating to think what Chet Atkins would have done with "Raunchy". He might have swamped it in strings while playing a tasteful guitar part along with a crack Nashville session group. Or he might have gone nuts with jazzy riffs that were nevertheless played with discipline. Either way, I'd take it over this frankly boring tune. And a Steely Dan version would've been something else as well. The golden age of the rock 'n' roll instrumental was just getting started and there'd be far greater examples as we move closer towards the rise of The Shadows, The Tornados and eventually on to Booker T. & The MG's. They all could've done a lot more with "Raunchy" too.
Score: 5
