"Central California's Original Funk Brothers"

Atwater, Lodi, Modesto, Stockton, Tracy, Turlock and their namesake hometown.
These are the places where kids packed the theaters, gyms and ballrooms and made the MERCED BLUE NOTES the biggest band in the big San Joaquin Valley.
I received a wonderful CD compilation, "Get Your Kicks on Route 99" yesterday from Amazon.com.
It details the recorded career of the Merced Blue Notes, a legendary R&B collective of the early 1960s. I listened to it last night and we will listen in the car today en route down to Cedar Rapids for my goddaughters' first Communion.
Their sound is akin to a bluesier version of Booker T. & The MGs, although later in their career the Blue Notes revealed the growing influence of jazz organist Jimmy Smith on their sound.
"Bad, Bad Whiskey," "Whole Lotta Nothing" and "Do the Pig" were among their hard-to-find singles that collectors have long craved. The Merced Blue Notes might be best known, however, for a series of singles that included and followed their seminal 1961 instrumental "Rufus" (followed by 1964's "Rufus Jr." and the 1966 single "Mama Rufus.")
The cover photo alone hints at the unique aspects of this band:
(from right to left)
George "Chief" Coolures served as band manager and played occasional tambourine and harmonica. Did I mention he was also the chief of the Merced, Calif. fire department?
Kenny Craig was the band's musical leading light. The guitarist and occasional vocalist founded the band at Merced High School.
Gilbert Fraire provided the thumpin' bass to the proceedings. His Hispanic heritage also added racial diversity to a mostly black band. Sadly, Fraire died in a 1967 car crash.
Carl Mays Jr. was credited with "drums and shouts." "We would get a groove going so much, we were like clockwork," Mays says in the extensive liner notes in the Ace Records release.
Bobby Hunt was the band's keyboard wizard. He later played in a band in France with Bob Welch, future member of Fleetwood Mac and solo recording artist.
Bill "Tiger" Robertson occasionally played saxophone for the band and his wife Marietta Robertson occasionally sang.
Some online reviews of the Merced Blue Notes attempt to disparage the band, referring to them as "a second-rate Booker T. & The MGs."
I laughed as I read those reviews, because they fail to realize a salient point:
Booker T. & The MGs are true instrumental soul demigods, yes, but the enjoyed the advantage of coming from music-drenched Memphis and the groundbreaking sonic laboratory that was Stax Records.
The Merced Blue Notes came from MERCED.
The band's humble beginnings, allied to their outstanding music, makes their little-known story all the more remarkable to me.