Bells!

Nothing sounds like Ebenezer Scrooge in full post-ghost attitude but church bells. Some sound like crystalline rippling, others like bellowing farm animals. I vaguely recall a Dorothy Sayers mystery ("The Nine Tailors") where a good portion of the plot revolved around bell-ringing. I was surprised to learn that there's a mathematical precision to bell-ringing patterns, or 'changes' -- almost like 12-tone serialism, where a note cannot be played twice until all other 12 notes have been played. Serialism never worked for me, but I sure do love the bells.

That Whole Music Writing Thing

Writing about music is harder than I thought, as I discovered when I started this blog. I want to keep working at it and get better, and some recent books of music writing that have inspired me are pictured here. I enjoyed "The Rest Is Noise" by Alex Ross (and his most recent book, "Listen to This") because of his catholic tastes (no, not the church) -- he can write about Mozart or Bjork or Radiohead or Schubert without being stuffy or condescending (or lost!)

The late Robert Palmer (no, not the "Addicted to Love" guy, the other late Robert Palmer) was a great champion for the blues as he got older (you MUST see the film "Deep Blues"), and he helped get backwater geniuses like RL Burnside discovered in a big way. There's a piece in his book about Led Zeppelin, and I was curious how he would handle some of the misappropriations that were attributed to some of their early work. He doesn't defend it, but he does point out that in the history of the blues, claiming something 'borrowed' as your own is all too common.

When I want to get the pure, unadulterated stuff, I go back to Lester Bangs (sadly, even later that the 2 Robert Palmers). Lester was played as the gruff mentor in "Almost Famous", Cameron Crowe's love letter to the rock music he grew up with, and when I read him now, I still picture him the way Philip Seymour Hoffman played him (sorry, Lester, I can hear you spinning right now.) Lester brought so much passion to his writing, and he gave critical nods early on to performers like Iggy Pop that less visionary critics dismissed as dumb. There's a Chuck Klosterman book where he mentions the rock musician who derided the Village Voice reviewer for "just writing about his mail" -- meaning the promotional CDs music critics are deluged with. Even if Lester was sometimes guilty of writing about his mail, he always brought a fierce intelligence to his work that I've always admired.

Another icy blast, and the end of music?

When the weather is icy-cold, the Cocteau Twins also make frequent appearances in the CD player, because this music is as far removed from "the blues" as you get (okay, maybe Sibelius is just a bit farther...). There's a glacial sheen to the sound, and the vocals are in some invented gibberish (no, really. She just sings nonsense syllables). The tunes are certainly memorable, but it's that icy remove that makes it such vital winter listening for me.

My Bloody Valentine takes part of the Cocteau Twins sound and exaggerates it even more. Vocals are buried in the mix, the guitars are frequently distorted beyond recognition, and there are often noises that sound like the recording equipment is malfunctioning. I let someone borrow my copy once and they returned it saying "It's the end of music as we know it" --- and he meant that in a bad way! I enjoy it because it sounds to me like pop music turned inside-out; the stuff we expect to be in the foreground isn't. Some people have called this the ultimate guitar album, but I think that's a little misleading, because anyone looking to hear "guitar" is going to be very confused. But it really is a pop album, not some industrial noise; dare I say, it's even beautiful.

A Mind of Winter

As soon as it began snowing, I pulled "Dis" by Jan Garbarek from the pile and put it on. There's no sleighbells, nothing remotely "holiday" about it, but it reminds me of bone-chilling cold. Garbarek's sax playing is bracing, and several tracks feature Aeolian or wind harp, large harps situated near cliffs whose strings resound from the air rushing off the coast. It reminds me of a winter storm -- but of course, I'm enjoying it in a warm, well-lit house!

The Record That Changed My Life

The album was "Music for Monsters, Munsters, Mummies & Other TV Fiends" by Milton Delugg and His Orchestra. I saw it advertised in a magazine circa 1964 and I just had to have it. The album itself was pretty forgettable -- versions of TV themes of "The Munsters", "The Addams Family" and assorted related titles. So how did this LP change my life, you ask? Because I had to have my parents take me to the store that sold LPs, stereos and phonograph needles -- and I asked them to special order it for me. Why is that a big deal? Up till then, I never realized you could do that! I was no longer bound by what I could find in Woolworths or Sears -- I could ask someone to order just about anything I wanted! (Later, when I started working in record stores, I discovered label catalogs with every single one of their releases listed -- I was in heaven.) It may not seem like a big deal now, with mega-online stores and downloads, but for a kid itching to discover the wide world of music, it was momentous, as if a hidden door suddenly opened. I never looked back.

Oh No -- Holiday Music!

Yes, as soon as the Halloween stuff comes down, stores begin playing Christmas music, because really, is there any Thanksgiving music? I think for many of us, our "taste" (if that even applies in this case) in Christmas music is based on what we heard as kids around the house, so for me, despite the fact that I know better, there's a soft spot in my heart for Andy Williams. My legacy to my son? The "Santa Clause Blues" collection on Jass Records (woefully out of print) -- mostly jazz and blues that are either out of copyright (or just booted). More on all this as we get closer to the real holiday season (not just the retail version.)

Death of the Mixtape Reported

I've been thinking about the mixtape lately, and then this morning on NPR, they mentioned how the Sony Walkman has ceased production, signalling the end of the mixtape. For years, the mixtape has served as a personal introduction, a catalog sampler, and of course, the first step in seduction (remember how Michael from The Office was quick to offer Holly a mixtape for her commute?)

The best mixtapes weren't just about the songs chosen, but the sequencing. I still have sketches I drew of lists of songs, with arrows drawn to rearrange the order until I got it JUST RIGHT. Sometimes you'd work with grades of dynamics, sometimes you'd want to jump from one extreme to another for contrast. Truly a labor of love...
The last "mixtape" I made was a few years back (and I guess it was actually a 'mixdisc' CD compilation). It was for a much younger fellow employee whose love of ska I wanted to expand, with detours into the Beach Boys, Bjork and Judee Sill. Though the media was different, the concept and execution was pretty much the same: the handmade inlay card listing the songs, the care for getting the song order just right, the mix of popular with obscure...as long as people continue to share music, the mixtape will live on in new forms.

Another Short Rant

Watched all 3 DVDs this last week, including bonus material, and my question is: why is every perfomance almost exlusively WHITE? Yes, the screen graphics list (the late) Solomon Burke, Smokey Robinson -- the list goes on -- but do we get to see any of their acceptance speeches or performances? Sure, there are glimpses of some of the soul heroes during the jam sessions, but do they even get a mike?? (Okay, there's a bit with Tina Turner, but come on!) Finally, on the third disc, I see Ray Charles come to the mike -- about time, I'm thinking -- but he's there to induct Billy Joel ?!!?? Am I the only one who finds this terribly, terribly WRONG?
At least in the first DVD, there's a great jam on "While My Guitar Gently Weeps" with a supersonic performance by Prince -- totally blows everyone off the stage.
Okay, rant concluded.
Oh, and, um, my initial post featured the wrong set. The one at the top is correct, the one following yet to be viewed -- but from the track list, I have hope!

Very Greasy, Indeed!

David Lindley is probably most well known for being in Jackson Browne's touring band, but as talented a backing musician as he is, his real forte is world music. Now, I don't mean that bland blend where everything exciting is leached out and you're left with inoffensive mush -- David has travelled the world (Madagascar, for instance) to play with the best traditional musicians. The albums pictured here aren't in that camp, however. These are mostly oldies and originals with a reggae beat, irie. And what a hoot -- "Mercury Blues" on "El-Rayo X" charges out of the gate with pure adrenalized slide guitar, then you get the ska/Tex-Mex version of "Twist and Shout". This is music played for sheer love of music. They're all highly recommended -- "Very Greasy" has the 'hits' "Werewolves of London" and "Papa Was a Rolling Stone" but they're all great --- and try to track down the live disc. Varying quality, but some real barn burners on there.

My wife and I saw David Lindley in all his greasy polyester glory play in a bar in Bellingham many many years ago (with his band El-Rayo X) and it still stands in the Top Ten Best Concerts EVER.

"New Music" or Classical Music Less Than 100 Years Old

Like "early music" that I talked about a while back, "new music" is a broad term that refers to 'new' classical music. Composers like Philip Glass, Terry Riley and Steve Reich have been around since the late '60s, so you see that 'new' is a relative term in the classical music world. Glass and Reich got lumped in with the minimalism movement, because much of their work is characterized by simple, repeated patterns and motifs that evolve over the performance of the piece. The Glass sound is almost always readily recognizable, and I can't say I've acquired a taste. Reich's "Music for 18 Musicians" is a repeated motif that changes as notes in the pattern are dropped. I think you either love or hate this piece, and I guess I love it, because I have 2 different recordings. There isn't a whole of of difference between the two versions; the ECM premiere version is a little brighter and moves a little faster. The little vocal bits remind me of chirping birds, so the whole piece has a sunny spring feeling to me.








John Adams sounds like a patchwork quilt of a lot of contemporary composers, and "The Chairman Dances" is almost like a resume of his styles.
Best for me is the title track, an instrumental piece excerpted from the opera "Nixon in China", and "Common Tones in Simple Time" slows down as the piece progresses, ending with tinkling chimes and large floating chords, like you've drifted into space surrounded by planets and stars.








Arvo Part takes minimalism to the furthest degree; his pieces have much in common with early Church chant. He started out composing some fairly spiky dissonant works, then developed what he called "tintinnabulation", or the music of bells. His newer works seem simple, but they somehow tap into something primal. A good example is "Passio", a vocal work with biblical lyrics (in Latin) from the last moments of Christ on the Cross. The 70 minute piece is in a minor key for almost the entire time, until the last bit changes to a major key, and it's like the heavens open, a very moving emotional moment.
"Fratres" was a piece on the first ECM disc, and the Telarc disc is mostly versions of "Fratres" with a lot of variations in scoring. Probably Part's most recognizable work is "Cantus in Memory of Benjamin Britten", which Michael Moore used to such stunning effect to accompany scenes of the Twin Towers aftermath in the film "Fahrenheit 9/11".

You Know This, Even Though You Think You Don't

The Penguin Cafe Orchestra was a project of the late Simon Jeffes, a classically trained musician who created instrumental music that sounds like it was perfomed by a lost tribe, playing acoustic instruments and influenced by Philip Glass and Steve Reich. Not as weird as that sounds -- the songs are created with circular patterns and motifs, and to top it all off, there's a whiff of British whimsy. You've heard some of these pieces on TV shows, commercials, and film soundtracks (especially "Perpetuum Mobile" and "Music for a Found Harmonium"). "Preludes, Airs and Yodels" has the added bonus of featuring the Patrick Street version of "Harmonium" that turns it into a furious Irish reel.

Nick

I'm usually not a fan of using songs I like for commercials, but since Volkswagen used Nick Drake's song "Pink Moon" a few years back, it's exposed his talent to a far greater audience, and for that, I'm grateful. Nick's story is a tragic one, sensitive singer-songwriter too nervous and too depressed to function in the glare of the spotlight, his genius only building an audience after his death.
There's a pretty decent "best of" CD, but you really should own the 3 original releases, nicely reissued, spiffed up with classy slipcase sleeves (pictured are the original covers, including what has to be in the Top Ten Worst Covers Ever for "Pink Moon".) Then of course you need "Made to Love Magic", because that collects the harrowing "Black Eyed Dog", thought for years to be the last song Nick recorded until the discovery a few years ago of "Tow the Line" (also included here.)

"Bryter Layter" seems a bit over-produced to me, but Joe Boyd claims it's the one perfect album he worked on. I've gotten used to it over the years, and can even listen to "Poor Boy" without cringing anymore. If I had to pick a favorite, it'd be "Five Leaves Left" but really, they're all great. What a gift, what a loss.

Stravinsky

Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring" has always been a favorite, despite hearing (at an impressionable age) Stokowski's version (complete with dinosaurs!) featured in Disney's "Fantasia". I listened a lot to the Pierre Boulez recording, with his surgically precise rhythms and whiplash dynamics, so much so that I internalized the recording --- Stravinsky's own version sounded anemic to me.

A few years ago, Valery Gergiev began cutting a swath through the Russian classical repertoire, and his version of "The Rite" struck me as brash to the point of rudeness, with a dynamic range Boulez and his engineers could only dream of. "That's not how it's supposed to sound!" I fumed -- then I remembered the stories of the piece's Paris premiere and how the totally unexpected cacaphony put the audience in an uproar. Ah, congrats, Valery -- you made the work exciting again after I'd carefully mummified it in my head.

Recently a DVD performance of "The Rite" and "The Firebird" conducted by Gergiev "Stravinsky and the Ballets Russes" came to my attention, and as wonderful as "The Rite" is (complete with a reconstruction of the original choreography by Nijinsky), it's "The Firebird" that I found utterly compelling, due to the dancing of Ekaterina Kondaurova as the Firebird. I know nothing about ballet (and probably wouldn't admit it if I did) but even my uncultured brain could appreciate the stunning work of Kondaurova. Don't miss it!

Summer Part 6: Newgrass and Old Time

Newgrass, spacegrass -- bluegrass went through a lot of permutations during the Seventies. Groups like The Seldom Scene and New Grass Revival expanded the material and performing styles of bluegrass, offering more rock influences and band-composed material. Never been much of a fan...
Another offshoot was influenced by mandolinist David Grisman's work with Jerry Garcia (Old and In the Way) and especially his own melding of bluegrass and Django Reinhardt gypsy jazz, as revealed in the classic David Grisman Quintet. My man Tony Rice, featured on the Quintet album, carried on with his version which he dubbed 'spacegrass'.





As much as I enjoy Grisman, I like Tony's albums a little more because Tony's lightning guitar runs are featured more prominently. Tony is the master of the clean line, no matter how fast he plays.
Norman Blake is also a guitar master, but he inclines more toward 'old-time' music, which is more string band blues and country rather than bluegrass. Norman writes a lot of his own material in a kind of 'new Southern old-time' style, and while his nasal vocals takes some getting used to, a lot of his music sounds like traditional front porch picking, best exemplified in "Whiskey Before Breakfast".






The 2 albums that Norman and Tony made together disappointed me at first because I was expecting all sorts of dueling acoustic guitar pyrotechnics, but these guys are more subtle than that. Even though their own work is very different from each other, they find common ground that really is a sublime pleasure to hear.




Tony Rice seems like he'll play with just about anybody, and two of my favorite of his collaborations show his range of styles. "Skaggs and Rice" is a collection of 'brother duets', high-harmony acoustic gospel. Tony's rich baritone melds well with the high lonesome sound of Ricky Skagg's bluegrass tenor. "The Pizza Tapes" brings it all full circle: David Grisman brings his buddy Tony along for a relaxed jam session with Jerry Garcia. Their version of Miles Davis' "So What" is genius, and the infectious enthusiasm is palpable. The noodling that precedes some of the tracks influenced much of Tony's own "Unit of Measure" album, which concludes with a live recording of a fiery bluegrass breakdown by Tony's best group.

Summer Part 5: Sorta Bluegrass

Bluegrass is as much a part of summer as watermelon and hot dogs, and nothing sounds better played outdoors -- but these CDs are certainly a good second option. Alison Krauss was winning fiddle contests in her teens, and her first 'solo' album (backed by Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas and more) only hints at the amazing growth of her career. Alison's always had a knack for picking great songs and surrounding herself with sympathetic and talented compatriots. Even though her fiddle talents won the contests, it's her pure-as-a-mountain-stream voice, similar in many ways to Dolly Parton's, that completely blows people away. Alison's early albums are good, "Two Highways" from 1989 being a particular favorite with the first version of her band Union Station. The band was revamped for later albums including 1992's "Every Time You Say Goodbye", and again around 1995, which has been her current band since. "New Favorite" is probably half a great album (and it's a very very good half) but Alison's generosity in letting the band take the lead half the time doesn't pay off for me as much.
The best thing about Alison Krauss for me is her taste; she chooses great songs (many by current and former band members), and the band's arrangements are tasteful and outstanding. Songs like "Oh Atlanta" and "I Will" (the Beatles tune) aren't the least bit 'bluegrass' and they aren't shoehorned into what would be considered traditional bluegrass arrangements, but instead they're just great songs played with bluegrass instruments.
The second best thing about Alison is her loyalty -- she's stayed with tiny Rounder Records from Day One, when I'm sure any number of labels wanted to woo her away when she hit it big.

Summer Part 4: Maria Bethania

Brazilian women vocalists tend to favor the high, clear, precise tones of a Gal Costa or Rosa Passos, but Maria Bethania's voice is low, throaty and honey smooth, richly romantic. Maria has almost attained Grand Dame status, with a long and varied career: she performed early with Gilberto Gil, Gal Costa and Caetano Veloso, her brother (and if you get the chance to see the DVD of their reunion performance, it's worth the hunt.)
"Maria Bethania Sings the Vinicius de Moraes Songbook" is a tribute to her mentor and the father of the Bossa Nova movement: classic, classic songs, interspersed with her readings of lyrics as poetry. So much to love about this CD, but the stunner for me is her performance of "Tarde em Itapoa", a longing reverie about time spent in Itapoa, with the sea and the sun -- it's the ultimate in languorous romance.
"Tempo Tempo Tempo" is a DVD of 2 1/2 hours of Maria in concert. She sings a variety of composers and styles (MPB, samba, bossa nova); she commands the stage with her relaxed sensuousness and that voice. (I've had problems accessing the English translations on some copies of this DVD, but listening to the Portuguese lyrics you can almost intuit what the songs are about -- did I mention romance?.)

Premonitions of Fall

I know it's still summer, but all it takes is a few damp days, and my mind drifts ahead to fall, and when that happens, the BritFolk goes back into the CD changer. Not just any BritFolk either, but what you might call the Fairport Axis, artists who came to prominence in the stirrings of British folk-rock as exemplified by Fairport Convention and fellow travelers like John Martyn, John Renbourn, Al Stewart -- and Bert Jansch. Now, Bert Jansch wasn't really "folk-rock", not that he didn't attempt it at times (with less-than-stellar results) but his forays into "folk-baroque" and "folk-jazz" (especially with the band Pentangle) are exemplary.




"Bert Jansch" was the first, recorded in someone's apartment: essential. "Bert & John" sounds like it could have been recorded after hours in a pub, intimate and a great showcase for 2 distinctive guitar styles.




"Moonshine" and "Rosemary Lane" are two favorites; Bert's in good voice (at his worst, he tends to be nasal), a good mix of songs ("Moonshine" includes Bert's definitive cover of "The January Man"), and nice instrumentals sprinkled through "Rosemary Lane". "Birthday Blues" is also wonderful, proabably my favorite if I had to choose (despite 1, maybe 2 duff tracks) but it has been reissued combined with "Nicola", (which has some awful groovy sixties production disasters amongst the good stuff). Still, at 2 for 1, it's worth the investment, though they have both been reissued since separately.



Bert continues to record (with varying degrees of success) and tour (in Seattle in June and I MISSED HIM!!! and he's also touring in support of Neil Young), but these recordings are from his classic period. He never broke through to mega status, but his influence casts a long shadow.