Recorded in 1991 and 1992 and released in 1994, C.C. Adcock’s self-titled debut got his career as a solo musician/band leader started. Here he looks back on a record he cut at the age of 21.
What was it like being so young cutting a record?
I really had very little clue how to do it. I just wanted to remind everyone that we were living in the cradle of rock ‘n’ roll down here and to wave the Excello flag. I hoped the guitar tones would stand up and that it would be a vehicle for me to get booked in bars around the South ... Accomplished that! The record company sent me what I thought, at the time, was a massive pile of money. I went straight to Right On Fashions and bought a bunch of Stacy Adams patent leather shoes and a suit. And then I invited everyone who was helping make the record to a celebratory dinner at Charley G’s. Luckily my dad showed up and picked up the tab, because I don’t think I would’ve even had enough left in my artist’s advance to cover it!
What was your favorite cut off the record? Why?
“Cauchemal” and “Womens” were the first two tracks that were done. And those were pretty much mixed right there on the spot. They still hold up and draw me in when they come on a jukebox somewhere. At the time, both were just demos that I was doing on my own to try and spotlight my guitar playing and to hopefully use to get myself another gig as a gun for hire. I had just come home from touring in Bo Diddley and Buckwheat Zydeco’s bands. I wasn’t looking for a record deal. I didn’t even really know what all that was yet. A friend of mine I had met out in Hollywood a couple of years earlier, Tarka (Denny Cordell’s son), happened to be in New Orleans producing another project. He looked me up to come over and swamp it up and hang out in Lafayette on his day off. When he arrived, I played him what I was up to with “Cauchemal” and “Womens” and he spent all night twiddling the knobs and helping me lay down parts to focus the tracks. I vividly remember driving down the Abbeville Highway and listening to those two in the morning light and feeling as if we had captured something new ... “my sound”… all that had previously just been gauzy in my head. Even though I could still totally hear all the bits I had obviously lifted from my influences and from other records, it had mine and Tarka’s unique filter on it. We were sitting at the stop light at Ambassador Caffery, in my ’60 Desoto, when Tarka looked over at me and said, “You really should make a record.” I didn’t know what he was getting at. Hell, I didn’t even have a band to front or anything. And I had absolutely no idea, at the time, that Tarka’s father, Denny, was a legendary record man. I told Tarka that I was only just a guitar player. Then I remember he said, “I’ve never known anyone more ready to make their own record than you are now.” That was such a sweet and wonderful thing for one artist to say to and gift another artist. That’s what made Tarka such a great, intuitive producer. “Cauchemal” and “Womens” still remind me of Tarka and of that moment. He took those two back to his father and that’s what got me signed. With his push, I jumped in, got my taste of that first blood and haven’t really ever looked back since.