The bio for Marvin Pontiac says it all--he was born "the son of an African father from Mali and a white Jewish mother from New Rochelle, New York." But you can't accept the background of this fictitious globetrotter at fac... more »e value; Pontiac is really just a front for jazzman John Lurie's latest alter ego. Like Lurie, Pontiac is indebted to everything musical under the sun. The blues, jazz, funk, rock, and juju music collide on the quirky Greatest Hits, with lyrics straddling the netherworld somewhere between Leonard Cohen and Melvin Van Peebles. "Small Car" and "Pancakes" are mind-blowing world-beat pastiches, in which Lurie's spoken absurdities become mesmerizing trances; other tunes hark to the blues ("I'm a Doggy") and funk ("Arms and Legs"). It all somehow flows together into one memorable disc. Let's just hope a Pontiac obscurities album comes next. --Jason Verlinde« less
The bio for Marvin Pontiac says it all--he was born "the son of an African father from Mali and a white Jewish mother from New Rochelle, New York." But you can't accept the background of this fictitious globetrotter at face value; Pontiac is really just a front for jazzman John Lurie's latest alter ego. Like Lurie, Pontiac is indebted to everything musical under the sun. The blues, jazz, funk, rock, and juju music collide on the quirky Greatest Hits, with lyrics straddling the netherworld somewhere between Leonard Cohen and Melvin Van Peebles. "Small Car" and "Pancakes" are mind-blowing world-beat pastiches, in which Lurie's spoken absurdities become mesmerizing trances; other tunes hark to the blues ("I'm a Doggy") and funk ("Arms and Legs"). It all somehow flows together into one memorable disc. Let's just hope a Pontiac obscurities album comes next. --Jason Verlinde
deepbluereview | SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA USA | 08/30/2002
(5 out of 5 stars)
"Oddly enough, I stumbled upon Marvin Pontiac in January while reading Elmore Leonard's "Tishomingo Blues". In the book, fictional character Robert Taylor plays "guess that tune" with another character in the book. The tune in the novel is "I'm a Doggy" which, according to the novel, purportedly was recorded in 1952 and soon became a minor hit. In the novel, Robert Taylor reports that Mr. Pontiac only recorded one album during his career and only after the producer agreed to mow Pontiac's lawn. Other accounts of Mr. Pontiac life are just as mysterious. Some say he went insane after claiming to have been abducted and probed by aliens and he died in 1970 at the Esmerelda State Mental Institution in Detroit. Other accounts report that he was hit and killed by a bus in June of 1977. All in all, his life and death is probably the biggest sham since the "Paul Is Dead" rumors and clues circulated in the 70's. Careful attention to the liner notes reveals that Pontiac is, in fact nothing more than, the alter ego of John Lurie. Most notably, the lone recording of Pontiac appears on Lurie's label, "Strange & Beautiful" which did not exist in 1952 when Pontiac purportedly recorded and released "I'm A Doggy". Moreover, the CD features musicians that include Lurie's brother Evan, John Medeski and Marc Ribot who would have been infants at the time of the actual 1952 recording. Finally, this CD was recorded in 2000, 30 years after the latest purported death of Pontiac. Are these the vocals of a dead man or just Lurie having a little fun? I suspect it's the latter. Whatever the reason for the deception, the CD itself is delightful to listen to. It features an array of styles from back porch blues to lounge lizard jazz. All complimented with Lurie's Barry White styled vocals. Alter ego's aside, this is a fine production by Lurie. I am just sorry that Lurie buried Pontiac without recording a sequel. Buy it and contemplate the mystery while you enjoy the music."
A long-overdue collection finally gets released!
Voice of Chunk | NY | 04/14/2000
(5 out of 5 stars)
"I've been a Marvin Pontiac fan since 1967 when I bought my first double-A side single -- "Arms and Legs." Since then I've scrambled to find any official Pontiac releases, but they were few and far between. The sublime "Wanna Wanna" was my wedding song, and I sometimes catch my 18-year-old daughter singing "Bring Me Rocks." To have all these classics -- "I'm a Doggy," "Little Fly," "Sleep At Night," etc. -- on one comprehensive CD saves me years of searching for the singles at record shows. My short stack of 45's wore out long ago.
Over the years I've been lucky enough to see over 500 concerts, everyone from Jimi Hendrix to Miles Davis to Sun Ra to Black Flag to Chuck Berry to Tom Waits to Frank Sinatra to the Plasmatics to everyone in between. Marvin Pontiac is by far the most intense and charismatic performer I've ever seen. Marvin's pretty elusive, so I saw him only once, in 1972 at the Bleeker Street Club (aka Club BS). Everyone was there -- Dylan, Ginsberg, Nixon -- and I made my way up to the stage just before showtime to watch Marvin tune his guitar. When I requested "Pancakes" he stopped tuning, walked over to me with a smile, and knocked me unconscious with his guitar. Thank goodness some wounds never heal."
Marvin, Granpappy and Me
Mr Anthony W. Frazer | Sydney, Australia | 07/28/2004
(5 out of 5 stars)
"When I was a young boy, sitting on my Granpappy's knee, I would spend lazy afternoons listening to his old croaky humming of a tune long forgotten by anyone else for miles around. He'd smoke his old pipe and I remember breathing in the beautifully scented blue smoke. He would occasionally be stirred out of his reverie as if spirits were in the room; he'd shake his head and snarl and suddenly lurch for the old phonograph, which he kept, right there by the back door woodpile, as if his crooked old life depended on it. He'd reach for the mysterious sleeve of black discs contained within the small box beneath the dormant turntable, wrench one out, crank up the box and drop that needle beautifully onto the spinning disc. Only then would he calm right down and be transported, by that music he heard, to another world.
When I learnt to read, I finally was able to make out the crude and mysterious shapes of the letters on those old 78s. Many of them were different from each other but two words remained the same on each disc: Marvin Pontiac. He was the only singer my Granpappy would listen to.
Now Granpappy was a strict old buzzard and a grouch and in his declining years he was a painful old sod to be around but you could always be guaranteed that when he put on his Pontiac records, Granpappy would calm right down again.
When Granpappy passed from this world he left nothing to no one. Except me. His Marvin Pontiac 78s. Some of the songs I had on those discs haven't made it to this CD collection. Songs like, "Diggin' In Yer Heels", "Pass The Tobacco, Nurse" and "Detroit? Schmetroit!"
Years passed and I eventually lost these 78s to a cab driver who I later discovered cheated during our poker game. Thank God for the re-release of these discs on CD. They have brought my memories back.
"
April Fools
George Grella | Brooklyn | 05/08/2000
(4 out of 5 stars)
"In case you're confused, don't worry about the genius of Marvin Pontiac, since he doesn't exist. This is not the music of an insane genius, but rather John Lurie, of Lounge Lizards fame. But what does that matter, since this is a good record. Gently absurd songs, most of them rather sweet in nature, with Lurie's deadpan delivery [you can't call it singing] bringing them a touch of irony. Spare, concise arrangments that generate a rather lovely sound. A record that is some nice music, not trying to salve a market or a fan base. A real pleasure, and a unique one."
Kinda cool
Dan | Los Angeles, CA USA | 04/21/2000
(3 out of 5 stars)
"Despite the whole annoying hipster inside-joke aspect of this project, the music itself is pretty compelling. I dock it a star for representing itself as something it isn't - i.e., the recently-exhumed tracks of an insane old bluesman. It's a damn shame that John Lurie has to rely on such conceits to get people to pay attention to his music..."