"Merry Christmas" from Shelby Lynne

With about 15 Christmas CDs in our collection, it takes something very special for us to consider adding another one. This year's winner, hands down, is Shelby Lynne's Christmas album from 2010. It's very simple, almost homemade, and sounds like it was recorded in someone's front room. Shelby's voice has that country twang with a bluesy tinge, sorta like Wynonna Judd without the bluster. There are all the usual suspects here ("Sleigh Ride", "Rudolph", "Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" -- spelled 'Clause'!) but there are a few originals, including "Ain't Nothin' Like Christmas" featuring the great line "I'll bring the 'nog, you put on a log".

I lucked out and found this at the library -- and tomorrow I'll own a copy, it's that good!

Old Dogs, New Tricks?

It may seem a quaint notion now, but there was a time when Peter Gabriel actually had a sense of humor. Even back in the Genesis days, his lyrics were sprinkled with puns and absurdity, and of course, the videos from the "Sledgehammer" era were always entertaining. Even in recent interviews, he seems pretty engaging, but Peter's newest "New Blood" seems light years away from that time; after the "Scratch My Back" covers album, "New Blood" continues the orchestral experimentation and career overview. "Scratch My Back" moved at a glacial pace, and at least "New Blood" perks things up a bit, and it's nice to hear songs like "The Rhythm of the Heat" and "San Jacinto" again, even if the orchestral bits don't really work. I was surprised, because the original studio tracks of those songs gave a nod to the new music of Philip Glass and especially Steve Reich, and what we get on "New Blood" wouldn't sound out of place in the next James Bond movie. I'm glad Peter's still experimenting, though.



Wilco seem to have stepped back some from their more experimental efforts in the new "The Whole Love", which unfortunately means less shredding from guitarist Nels Cline. Pity. The very last song on the CD runs for almost 12 minutes, and I'll probably buy the CD for that track alone -- the band does a great job of little fills that carry the arrangement along.




Gillian Welch and David Rawlings have a new disc out too, and it's up to their usual high standards. I won't pick this one up right away -- "Time (The Revelator)" is still my go-to disc when I want to hear Gillian -- but I'm sure eventually when I've worn off all the oxide from "Time", I'll get "The Harrow and the Harvest". It's nothing we haven't heard before, but Gillian and David still nail it to the wall.




Bjork has made some of the music I've most enjoyed over the years, but she sure doesn't make it easy. I think her music is adult music in the best sense; meaty, difficult to hear at first, mature and always moving forward. "Medulla" came out in 2001, and I'm still getting used to it. On initial hearing, it sounded so foreign, so...odd that I really didn't like it. But I knew it was a big leap from her previous albums, so I stuck with it. Now it's 2011, and Bjork's released "Biophilia", and so my homework begins. There are many things familiar here from previous albums: the harp, the Icelandic choirs -- but I don't hear the melodies yet. But I'm willing to do the work, as Prince says. Bjork's never let me down yet.

Bert Jansch, RIP

I seem to be posting way too many "RIP"s lately. I've blogged about Bert before, and I've always enjoyed his work over the years. Last "new" album of his I bought was "When the Circus Comes to Town" from 1995, Bert long in the tooth with a touch of pitch problems, but still a worthy effort with some very good songs.

Good New York Times obit here.

Welcome back, Tracey

Tracey Thorn has a new album out, and while she hasn't abandoned the often melancholy introspection of much of her work with Everything But the Girl, there are hints of humor, satisfaction and romantic contentment. I also love that she's playing around more with the upper register of her voice -- little upticks here and there add a touch of grace and light. The production also pulls back from the house music style (drum 'n bass) of later Everything But the Girl albums, sounding more 'organic', I suppose. If you enjoy EBTG, especially their earlier releases, take a listen to Tracey's new one, "Love and Its Opposite".

Wind-Up

...so I'm working at the record store and we get a new batch of import singles, one of which is "Moths" by Jethro Tull. A quick listen, hmmm...not bad, not bad at all. Being as I'm on a low-Tull diet, I don't pursue this any further. When I finally do hear the subsequent album "Heavy Horses", I am gobsmacked -- crikey, they've done it again! Well, maybe not -- half & half, I'd say, but the good songs are REALLY GOOD! -- and who expected that? Funny that a few albums previous, Ian was writing about classic themes like God versus the Devil, the Church versus Pan (well, that's probably a stretch...), and here comes Ian in full country squire mode, writing about the eternal struggle between cats and mice. Seriously, just because you're using a smaller canvas doesn't mean the concepts are smaller.(I just wish the album had the single mix of "Moths", MIA so far.)

"Heavy Horses" was a one-off for me. "Live - Bursting Out","Stormwatch" and "A" followed, but I was occupied elsewhere.




So, 4 years after "Heavy Horses", we get "The Broadsword and the Beast". A return to form? Not exactly, but instead a version of Tull that remembers past glories but looks to the future. It's one of their best, and I think most fans think of it fondly because it showed that our faith in the band wasn't misplaced after all.




Next, Ian releases a solo album "Walk Into Light" which is very keyboard-driven and synthy. It sells by the thimble-full, but I still find it interesting (except for Ian's leisure suit on the cover). And it was the bridge to the next official Tull album..."Under Wraps" -- what the hell?? A very divisive album in the Tull camp due to the synth-drums and programming. I confess: I haven't heard it for many years, but I do remember liking it at the time. Again, a case of Tull re-jigging the formula and trying something new.



3 years on and here it is: "Crest of a Knave", the album that had Metallica crying foul. Two myths: Ian held "listening parties" so fans could vote on their favorite songs so the band could then release the most radio-friendly version. Boo-hiss, pandering in the worst sense. Not so, says Ian. He already had the album ready to go, these events were to convince a skittish record company that there indeed was a market for it.

Second myth: Ian saw that Dire Straits was the latest flavour of the minute and so the album's vocals and guitar echo DS's Mark Knopfler. Boo-hiss, pandering in the worst way. Actually, Ian's ravaged voice caused him to write songs in a lower register so he wouldn't blow out his vocal cords on the road (nice try, but Ian's workaholic touring schedule strained his voice anyway). And the story goes that Mark Knopfler had asked the manufacturers of his guitars to help him get the sound of Martin Barre - from Jethro Tull.

Well I don't know how true this is, but "Crest" is pretty much top-notch all the way through, "Budapest", "Said She Was a Dancer" and "Steel Monkey" being aces in my book.






After this? Lots of anniversary collections, with the "20 Years of Jethro Tull" 3 CD set seriously excellent throughout -- single B-sides, radio broadcasts, unreleased demos -- they got this one right. "Rock Island" (jeez, again with the crap graphics?) and "Catfish Rising" were the last of the 80s and the first of the 90s, and I bowed out. Then the "25th Anniversary Box Set" which came in a really cool cigar box, but at 4 CDs was probably 3 CDs too much. Another compilation "Night Cap" was actually much better, again with b-sides and unreleased tracks, but it was obviously a labor of love and not intended to fleece the fans (Ian donated his cut to charity.)





"A Little Light Music" was a record of Tull's anywhere-we-can-plug-in tour schedule. I'll bet for many Eastern European and far-flung Asian markets, Tull was the first British rock band they'd ever seen. The tours may have wrecked Ian's voice but they brought the music to the underserved. I bought "Light Music" when I found it in a used bin, thought "What can I lose?", and was pleasantly surprised -- it's a good record of how Tull managed to re-interpret their material over the years to keep if familiar but fresh -- and there's a track recorded in Pullman WA!

Wrapping it up, Ian had a few more solo albums; I heard some tracks from the latest and wished it had been recorded with a band -- kinda sterile when Ian plays all the instruments. 1995's "Roots to Branches" had some more good material with "Wounded, Old & Treacherous" a winking update that puts Ian back in "Bungle in the Jungle" as a lion past his prime, but still with some fight left.


Tull continues to tour, and there are always rumors of new material still to come.
There may be other bands that I have more interest in these days, but I don't think there's any music that's given me more joy over the many years than Ian Anderson and Jethro Tull. Rock on, gentlemen.

Thick as the Past

One of the things that mystified me about how the British music industry is set up is the fact that singles and LPs were two distinct markets to the Brits. Here the single usually drove sales of the album, whereas in England, the singles most times weren't even on the albums. Hence "Living in the Past", a catch-up release for Americans who hadn't heard many of the early JT singles. Even though it's a hodge-podge of odds & sods, I really enjoy LITP exactly because it features such a mix. Tull almost always had a nice balance of acoustic balladry and electric riff-rock, and the random selections on LITP shows off this side of the band. I don't listen to the live tracks much anymore, but LITP is a keeper. I even saved my old LP edition because it really is a nice package with lots of great photos.




"Thick As A Brick" and "A Passion Play" were the concept albums writ large. (Maybe in the case of PP, too large.) "Thick" stills holds up well for me, again a fine blend of acoustic and electric. The idea of a single 40-minute song was deemed preposterous by those who didn't get that Tull had a sense of humor, and they certainly didn't mind taking the piss out of themselves. (Promo copies of both "Thick" and "Passion" actually broke down the track into individual songs for radio play. I'm told the Mobile Fidelity CD editions continued that practice.)
"A Passion Play" is a bit dodgier in my book; the attempt to lighten the mood with "The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles" story that occurs in the middle just meant you had to get up and move the record stylus to avoid it. I have the rest taped onto an ancient cassette and it's still enjoyable if I'm taking a long-ish drive.
But the weightier lyrical bent of "Aqualung" and "Thick" does tend to get even weightier on "A Passion Play" and for me, bogs it down.



So...a few concept albums under their belt, what's the next move for a rock band in the early '70s? Why, a movie, of course. "War Child" was most of the song bits meant for Ian's movie concept about God and the Devil. The movie fell into financing problems and so never got made, and you can thank either God or the Devil for that!
But, for me, "War Child" is one of the very best Tull albums. It featured the unfortunate single "Bungle in the Jungle", a song I hate every time I hear it on the radio (and every time I turn it up -- damn you, Ian and your bag of hooks!) I think "Bungle" is actually the weakest track on a great album. Ian's production skills reached their apex here -- listen to how on "Skating Away On the Thin Ice of the New Day", he drops instruments in and out of the mix so deftly -- a tabla lick here, tamboura grace note here. Definitely a high water mark. (You may want to check out Steeleye Span's "Now We Are Six", an Ian production featuring David Bowie -- and Peter Sellers!)




"Minstrel in the Gallery" followed, and while I think it has some keepers, too many tracks sound bloated (in the sense that "These will go down well when we play the stadiums in the States!") to me. "Too Old to Rock'n'Roll: Too Young to Die!" actually has some fine songs on it, but the title track is too dumb and too long, and the cover art (along with "War Child") is dreck. Punk was now the pop-du-jour, and "Too Old", in look and concept, just set Tull up as the next dinosaurs headed to the tar pits. Too bad, because the good tracks got ignored.




"Songs from the Wood" was not actually a return for Tull, but the album where Ian decided to take a different fork in the road, emphasizing the folkier, more rustic elements that were already a part of the Tull sound. Ian always had an uncanny ability to learn from past misfires and land on all fours. It was a good decision; "Songs" had many soon-to-be classic Tull songs, it restored much of their fan base, and heck, even had another Christmas song on it!
But I was working at a record store when this album came out, fully seduced by the Sex Pistols and the punk explosion that was such a welcome clearing of the decks that the record industry needed, so at the time, this LP was my swan song for Tull. Ian's voice was beginning to show the strain that would later seriously affect his singing. I was falling in love, so Ian's leer in "Hunting Girl" seemed juvenile. Yes, I loved almost all of "Songs from the Wood", but I'd graduated from college. I was ready for new things, time to put the bands I loved in high school behind me. Jethro Tull would now be filed away to gather dust.

Next: Boy, was I wrong! (Okay, just about Tull -- the falling in love thing worked out very well!)

Not Exactly a Guilty Pleasure

I wouldn't say Jethro Tull is my favorite band, but you wouldn't know it by looking at my CD collection. I'd bet I have more JT than any other band, and it's not embarrassing exactly, but Tull really has no street cred. Most women don't care for them, and of course, they were a joke when punk came along --- and let's not even talk about the whole Metallica thing. I watch their videos and cringe. I remember seeing Ian Anderson interviewed on (I think) David Letterman, and Ian was in his country squire mode, so affected and uncomfortable I thought he'd bite his pipe stem in two.

All that being said, I still enjoy the music, and at the end of the day, that's what really matters. I remember (iffy at best!) that I first saw Jethro Tull on some TV special hosted by Leonard Bernstein. The point of the special was to show adults that the "kids" were listening to classical music and they didn't even know it! The Nice (with pre-ELP Keith Emerson) played "Country Pie" with all sorts of classical riffs thrown in, and Jethro Tull did "Bouree", based on a Bach piece. Ian looked a sight -- wore a long ratty greatcoat, played the flute (!), and he had that (now) iconic one-legged stork pose. How could I resist? Bought "Stand Up", their second album, and loved it. (This was the LP version, with the gatefold sleeve and the little pop-up of the band inside that really did stand up.) Still one of my favorites today.

Went back to their first LP "This Was", which even upon release was a transitional album, as they replaced guitarist Mick Abrahams with their permanent guitarist Martin Barre and left their more blues-based material behind. "This Was" is notable for the inclusion of a Rahsaan Roland Kirk song "Serenade To a Cuckoo", a brilliant move by Ian to not only show the main influence on his flute playing (Rahsaan did that whole huffing-and-puffing-and-singing-through-the-flute thing) but to acknowledge it up front so he couldn't be accused of stealng the style. The LP is spotty (uh oh, drum solo anyone?) but still a favorite. Somebody at the record store accidently spilled patchouli oil on my copy -- bonus!





I saw Tull live in Seattle a couple of times, even caught the '71 tour where they previewed a bunch of the "Aqualung" songs. Bought the "Benefit" LP and played it to death (not so much these days) and of course, their most famous, the "Aqualung" album. As much as I give lip service to the idea that albums are meant to be a full artistic statement, I find that I really do use the old 'skip' button on the CD player. The former Side Two of "Aqualung" I pick and choose the best tracks, but I can still listen to the former "Side One" uninterrupted.

And some time this fall, there's supposed to be a 40th Anniversary remixed version of "Aqualung" coming out. Was it really that long ago...

Next time: Living in the Past!

Back when I was able to get music at cost, I splurged on a few box sets (Miles Davis) -- and these great collections. They're both filled with both classic and obscure soul music, but the kicker is the great packaging. Somebody at Rhino had fun with these! "Beg, Scream & Shout; The Big Ol' Box of 60s Soul" has the CDs housed in a replica of the kind of box you'd use to transport your best 45s to a party. Even the inner sleeves are reproductions of original 45 jackets.

And "Can You Dig It? The '70s Soul Experience" comes with fake 8-track tapes! Genius, and a fitting package for a dynamite collection.

Holy Modal Rounders: Punk, Old-Time Style??

As I've mentioned earlier, the Holy Modal Rounders gave the finger to the folk music Olde Guard. Lyrics weren't sacrosanct, melodies could be appropriated, and enthusiasm was paramount. The HMR said "We ARE the folk, and this is how we do it!" Not really, I'm guessing, with the various drugs involved -- they seem like a band who fell into their approach to the folk tradition.

And to some, their "approach" was more like an attack: reckless abandon lyrically (if they didn't know the words, they'd substitute sometimes random, sometimes bawdy variations -- "Black Eyed Susie" anyone ?!?)

Lots of 'trad. arr.' on their first 2 LPs, or as the liner notes list it, "trad err": ("The Holy Modal Rounders" and...wait for it... "The Holy Modal Rounders 2"). Love "Flop Eared Mule" from HMR2 -- they get the lyrics wrong at one point, but soldier on. Brilliant!

A Summertime Salute to Rounder Records

Summer is the perfect time for bluegrass. I can't think of any other music that sounds better outside (on second thought, just about all of them do.) My first exposure to bluegrass (not counting "The Beverly Hillbillies") was the Tall Timber String Band, featuring Phil and Vivian Williams, still going strong today. I was a radio baby, so I didn't understand why bluegrass on stage sounded so different from the dry and dusty stuff I found on LP. Skip ahead a year or two. I hear The Holy Modal Rounders for the first time. The HMR took old-time standards and added psych-o-delic (and often "blue") lyrics. Then there's Peter Stampfel's voice -- nasal, whiny, and not particularly concerned with the right key. It wasn't until I heard old-timey Uncle Dave Macon that I realized that's where that voice came from. I'll deal with the HMR in depth later; my point here is that years after the HMR debut, Rounder Records (yes, named after the Holy Modal Rounders) released a 'comeback' album called "Alleged in Their Own Mind" in which Peter slandered partner Steven as a speed freak, a liar and a thief -- in their own liner notes!!








The Real Music Box is a set of 4 double CD sets, all of which are available separately as two-fers. My favorites are "Hills of Home" and "Hand-Picked". There is a bonus disc in the box set, featuring a selection of lesser-known (and mostly unavailable on CD) artists. Plus you get the great book that shows the early days of Rounder, selling LPs out of the box at bluegrass shows.

There are several record labels that have managed to sell music based on our trust in the label itself; ECM, for instance, or Windham Hill in the early days. Rounder belongs in that august company, and it's not for nothing that Alison Krauss still records on Rounder even though she's probably received many more lucrative offers.

Son of the Ghost of Firesign, Part Three

So...we mingle with the library folks, clap politely as donors are thanked, then David and Phil spy the wine bar, and they're off. Holy crap, I know nothing about these guys personally -- are they gonna get royally tanked before our program ?!? (No, they don't.) Later as we head out the exit, we're talking about all the local dot.com millionaires who've managed to make way too much money off e-commerce and e-banking and e-business, and I chime in bitterly "Yeah, what a bunch of e-holes!" Phil laughs so hard he practically falls over. "Did you just make that up?" (expressing the time-honored fear of the comic that's he's stolen, unconsciously or not, someone else's material). I assure him that yes, I just thought of it. (Surreal moment #2.)




Ten minutes to showtime. David & Phil are off to the side of the stage, still fine-tuning what they'll perform. Other than Program Guy, myself and Judith, the place is completely empty (there may have been a rogue waiter or two still cleaning up from dinner). Turns out that WLA has a "comedy" program of their own: librarians read their 'learned papers' on 'humorous' topics. Everyone who should be at our program is there instead. Program Guy and I both are prostrate on the stage, asking God to kill us now.

God spares us, people eventually trickle in. Oblivious to the skimpy crowd, D&P are sweet, hilarious and genuinely thought-provoking. Phil uses my joke and points me out to the crowd, afterwards fans line up to have albums signed, Program Guy and I are in a PTSD shell-shocked state, eventually we get to thank David and Phil, and Phil signs my program "You are NOT an e-hole!"



Postscript: the next morning, riding the elevator down with David & Judith and assorted library people (Phil lives close enough that he left after the program), someone turns to me and says "E-holes, huh?" Yes, that evening was all about me.

Phil Austin and David Ossman were professional, gentleman, poets and deeply funny people. I am so glad that I got a chance to be there that night.

PPS: Thank you to my lovely and talented wife Deoborah, who offered editorial assistance for this latest 3-part blog. Thanks, doll, you're the best!

Bride of the Night at Firesign Theatre, Part Two

I explain to Phil A. and David O. what we're hoping for , maybe a fifty minute program along the theme of the library conference, we'll pay a (ridiculously small) fee -- and they agree.

The big night. We have no idea what to expect. David arrives, then Phil. I unofficially become Phil's 'minder', and Programming Guy (PG) squires around David. David & Phil huddle to sketch out what they plan to do (some Firesign material, some of David's poetry, excerpts from Phil's as-yet-to-be published masterwork, bits of plays and reveries they've performed before in similar situations).






There's a dinner a few hours before showtime, and they graciously share the table with my boss & his wife and a few Whatcom County Library staff. David's wife Judith (who manages the sound system) joins us. Phil's wife, the enchanting Oona, remains at home.
Phil and David continue to huddle on and off during dinner, but still take the time to be charming dinner guests.

Since they're performing in that very same space later, Judith stays behind to set up the sound system, so PG & I escort David and Phil around the conference center. We head to a wine reception that's a 'thank-you' to big library donors. It's in a two-story glass-enclosed building, and since the donor panel speakers are on the mezzanine level, as we walk towards the building , our ground-floor view is everyone facing our way, gazing upwards. Says Phil: "I have a bad feeling about this..."

Nights at the Firesign Theatre, Part One of Three

For the uninitiated, well, how can I describe The Firesign Theatre, four or five crazy guys that took a love of old radio shows, dosed it with whatever was being served in the '60s, and alchemically produced radio plays on LPs that grew in depth the more that you listened. I was talking about the TV show "Lost" with someone a while ago, and I claimed that "Lost" was written knowing full well that TV shows were being packaged as DVD sets -- the show was packed with obscure asides and references because they knew that people would watch them many times over. With LPs, Firesign had the same canvas -- a medium that could bear repeated listening.
I'll go more into The Genius That Is Firesign in another post; this one's about the live experience.



1993: FS have reunited for a 'back from the shadows' tour. It's a love-fest. The Paramount is full of fans quoting the material as it's performed, and it's celebratory, not obnoxious.

Cut to 2000. I'm a member of the Washington Library Association, and they've just announced the theme of their conference: R/evolution. The blurbs they provide strike me as familiar -- isn't this what FS talked about in their albums, the future as past, media as a tool of propaganda and commercialism -- wow, wouldn't it be great if they could be part of this? So I e-mailed the program coordinator guy, and he says, "That would be perfect! (he's a fan) -- do you know them?" Umm, no, but I know that one lives on Whidbey, and another lives on Fox Island -- maybe we can at least get those guys to show? So, with no introduction, I decide to get in touch with Phil Austin and David Ossman. Emails, faxes, even letters are sent out. Then one of the most surreal moments of my life: Phil Austin, voice of Nick Danger, calls me at the Ferndale Library. I still get goosebumps thinking about it. Can you even imagine hearing that voice calling you on the phone? It was like I'd become part of one of their routines...

Cheap Seats, Penultimate Chapter

So many shows, such a limited memory...thanks to all who have entertained me over the years: Neil Finn, Bonnie Raitt (early days with Freebo on bass), Yes & Donovan (both as opening acts, one waxing, one waning), the Kinks (late model), Carlos Santana & John McLaughlin, Richard Thompson with Danny Thompson at the Lincoln in Mount Vernon, Ella Fitzgerald, Trevor Pinnock & the English Concert at St. Mark's in Seattle (they trashed the altar), the Jam, Alice Cooper (pre-arena), the South End String Band, Leon Redbone & Leo Kottke, and who can forget the unknown opening acts for James Taylor (who is Carole King?) or Bette Midler (who's that guy with the huge honker on piano -- someone named Barry Manilow??) And thanks to all the bands I've forgotten, big names and no names, music performed inside and outdoors...
Even though this little series has been about the big names, hearing live music transcends categories like that. The last live performance I saw was 3 weeks ago, three 8th-grade kids who knew a total of 4 songs - and I was captivated. There's plenty of fine music to discover.







The Backstage featuring John Martyn
1993, just a few days shy of my birthday, my wife and I see live in concert a man that I consider to be our marriage counselor. John himself would probably be the last to suggest he was qualified to give advice, and I just mean that his records accompanied our early dating, our serious dating, our wedding, our eternal honeymoon -- poor guy was dragged every step of the way. The Backstage was tiny, so you either saw bands there on their way up (see Alison Krauss following) or... well, not on their way down, exactly, but maybe with a little loss of cachet. Especially if they could perform solo (easier to divide the check.) John Martyn had some rough years behind him (musically), but with his late-in-life artistic resurgence, his body finally started to break down after too many years of over-indulgence. The John we see that night had matured, his humor and stage banter no longer at odds with the emotional impact of his songs. But Johnny had grown into a big boy: the tent he wore would have made Mama Cass blanche, and by then he was using a cane.
He's gently good-humored, he plays all the old favorites that in a better world would have made him a fortune, and he drinks only enough to be charmingly lubricated.
You'd think this evening would be burned into my brain, but my wife and I both recall only the certainty that we had been part of a perfect evening. I did hear that there's a bootleg around of this performance... that would be a treat. Always nice to see our John.







Meanwhile, Back at the Backstage...
I've said this to a few people, but I'd swear that everyone in the room the night Alison Krauss and Union Station performed at The Backstage knew that we'd never see her play a space that small again. You don't really expect a bluegrass artist to break big, but we saw big talent on the stage that night. She was funny with a dry wit (with the occassional pinch of goofy), she was articulate, the boys in the band all treated her like their kid sister --- and we all heard the debut of "Oh, Atlanta" a song that allowed her voice to belt one way beyond the bluegrass fence.








One of Our Top Three
...would have to be...David Lindley and band (El Rayo-X) at the 3B (or maybe it was the bar before it was the 3B) in Bellingham. David's mix of surf/James Bond/Eastern exotica/50's rock & blues slide guitar and dub & reggae sounds like it'd be a world music disaster, but that night, the stars aligned, the 'hamsters danced their Grateful Dead twirly dance, and the house was seriously rocked, all by a man with a serious polyester problem.

Another View from the Cheap Seats

Face to Face With Elvis Costello
There was a series of "emerging artist" shows at the Paramount, cheap tickets for new talent. I went with record store buds rather than my girlfriend (now wife -- yes, come-uppance is on the horizon). Elvis was touring in support of "This Year's Model", his break-through (and some say defining) album. He and the Attractions are on fire; some years later I found the bootleg album of this show and it confirmed everything I remembered. Elvis was at his best.

Show over, I head out an unfamiliar exit, and now I'm part of a group who have discovered the tour bus. We stand, we wait, we wait some more. Eventually, a back door at the Paramount opens, and Elvis heads toward the bus and our line of supplicants. I'm not more than 6 or 7 down the line, and I face off with Elvis. Nothing to sign, just me and a goofy grin. Elvis gives me a few seconds, shrugs ("Whatever, mate") and moves on. Later I realize I had my ticket stub he could have signed, but Elvis is on the bus and the line disperses.

Come-uppance: my girlfriend/now-and-always wife (G/NAAW) is with friends at a Seattle pub; she sees Elvis walk in. He settles at the bar for a short drink, surveys the scene, and eventually moves on. Her Elvis experience is far richer than mine; I am chastened.






Van the Man? Not So Much...
Van Morrison's known for many things: his amazing catalog of songs, his dislike of the music industry, his Celtic soul and his love of American blues and R&B. Unfortunately, he has been known in the past for some dodgy performances. He can be transcendent, he can be awful. It depends. I saw Van (the Paramount, again) and it was like there was a Van imitator standing way at the back of the stage, lip-syncing the songs. He's not moving, I can barely see him -- is it a life-size cardboard stand-up? Three or four songs into it, The Man Who Is Probably Van leaves the stage, the band comps instrumentally for a bit, realize he's not coming back so they do an instrumental version of "Moondance" and then they leave the stage. We are pissed off (no refunds!) and word comes back that Van has the flu or something...

Next Van sighting is the Wavelength tour. He's not sick, but, well, this is a transitional period for Van, trying to sound more contemporary for pop radio, so not much in the way of fireworks on stage. The best moment occurs when Rockpile opens (Dave Edmunds and Nick Lowe in full rock-rock-ROCK! mode). Amps are turned up to 12, and hordes of hippies seated for Van rush to the back of the auditorium ("Too loud!! Too loud!!!")







Aw Jeez, "The Circle Game"?? Why Not "Kumbaya" ??
Joni Mitchell touring with some kid named Jackson Browne. He's not bad, she's pretty good, but then we have to stand up and sing "The Circle Game" ("and the seasons, they go round and round, and the painted ponies go up and down.."). Not the best moment in an awkward first date. (Later I realized, my gosh, that first date was a Joni Mitchell/Jackson Browne concert -- I should be in the Boyfriend Hall of Fame!)

Bonding, Part 2
I've been to Bumbershoot several times, but the ones I enjoyed most were when I went with my son. We usually go our separate ways on and off throughout the day, but managed to reunite in time to see: Foo Fighters (with guest Krist Novoselic joining for the encore of Prince's "Purple Rain" -- hey, we saw 2/3 of Nirvana!), Sonic Youth, and the reunited Sex Pistols. You don't know true joy until you can stand side-by-side with your son as Johnny Rotten calls us all wankers.







Aqualung on the Monorail
I've seen Jethro Tull a couple of times in their earlier years, up through the Aqualung tour. Ian was still wearing the greatcoat, and stood on one leg with less effort than he does now. I arrive for a show at the old Seattle Center, and since it's early, I hop on the monorail -- and at the very back is a motley collection of biker dudes in black leather. Wait, that's Ian and the boys out to explore Seattle a bit! Do I say anything to them? Heck, no (see Elvis Costello above), but hey, I rode the rails with Jethro Tull! (Apologies to Bowling Joe for the repeat).

Coming up: yes, I will finally blog about John Martyn at the Backstage, plus, Alison Krauss (also at the Backstage), David Lindley and El-Rayo X in Bellingham, and the most sublime Firesign Theatre experience ever!

Life in the Cheap Seats: A Series

I regret that I get to fewer and fewer concerts these days, but here's a look at some of my more memorable experiences in the concert halls:

My First Concert


I was barely 16, in Seattle with friends. They opted to see "M.A.S.H.", just in theaters. I wasn't old enough to get in, so I decided to head to the Moore Theater, where instead, I saw Frank Zappa and the Mothers. Holy crap! Was there anything in "M.A.S.H." that was worse than anything I heard on stage that night? I don't think so -- this was Frank in the first run of the 'Flo & Eddie' years, the tours and albums that resulted in critics dumping on FZ for "teen porn" -- this was the tour that featured lurid tales of band/groupie interaction involving sea creatures at the Edgewater Inn in Seattle. Yikes!! A few years later, I saw Frank with his Grand Wazoo band, his own version of a (small) big-band outfit. They were legends, fully equipped to pull off Frank's complicated charts -- but the calls for "Mudshark" kept coming, and Frank was actually pained -- "Oh, you don't want us to play that, do you?" But the calls continued, and Frank, obviously embarrassed, told the band "It's a blues -- just follow me.."
Footnote: I saw FZ probably 3 or 4 more times. At one show (it may have been the Moore Theater one), some drunk comes on stage, brays for a while playing the piano (how did this guy get on stage? Why does he have access to a piano? Oh Frank, such a clever guerrilla-theater moment!) until he's subjected to audience harassment and leaves the stage. Many years later, I realize he was Tom Waits (he and FZ shared the same manager).

Other Concerts (and an Amusing Disaster)
Working in a record store, I got a lot of free tickets. Promoters thought a full house (even though 1/4 were free) was better than a sparse audience.
So I got to see whatever the record companies were pushing at the time: The Boomtown Rats, Rachel Sweet, XTC (great), the Police (boring -- we left after 3 songs), and my favorite, Rubicon. They opened for the Rats, I think, and it was a total mistake. They were touted as a super-group of second and third line players -- the most famous was Sly Stone's sax player. They played bad (as in terrible); eventually, the sax guy complained that we were a bad (as in terrible) audience. At that point, the front rows (all record store people) taunted him and the band by acting as if Rubicon was the ROCKIN'EST BAND EVER!! Whenever the singer would point to the crowd, they'd point back, meanwhile fake-dancing up a storm, disco moves, total rock abandonment -- they did it all. It was like 'improv theater as revenge' from the audience. Totally awesome! (Rubicon left the stage soon after.)




Best Concert(s) Ever?
The late, lamented Rainbow Tavern in Seattle. My girlfiend/now-and-always wife see Loudon Wainwright III ( around the release of the album "Unrequited"). It is incredible. When I first mention this blog post about favorite concerts, she says "Oh, Loudon". He's hilarious, he's moving, he's utterly captivating. Show's over, we're outside, and we both say "Let's stay for the second show!!" Back in line, in for free, another hour or so of greatness.

Best Bonding
Dazzled and enchanted by John Fahey, guitarist, folklorist, magician, once again at The Rainbow. Long, long, mesmerizing medleys and improvisations built on blues, folk, Russian classical music, and John's own fertile brain. I take a restroom break. Guy at next urinal: "Isn't he just so great??"
Men do NOT talk to each other in public restrooms. Side-by-side urinal use does NOT mean a bond has been formed. Yet, this night, whether beer has been involved or not, broke the rule. Who knows, if my bladder had cooperated, I could have been standing next to John Fahey instead...

Next: Elvis Costello, John Martyn, Joni Mitchell, Van Morrison, Van Morrison again, and Jethro Tull on the Monorail!

Record Store Days, Flip Side

Tower was a big box store with an indie heart. They hired people who cared about music, and even though Tower was a chain, each store had its own personality. I worked at a tiny record store in Bellevue, and as much as we begrudged Tower's gigantic-ness, we still admired them (and you'd find many of our staff after work browsing Tower's shelves.) My girlfriend-eventually-wife and I would stop by the crummy Shakey's pizza place down the street, and after pizza with extra cheese, we'd head on down to Tower to hang out. (It didn't hurt that she'd sometimes wear this flimsy t-shirty thing that had me walking into walls...)

The store in Bellevue gave me my second adolescence. I was there when we got our first shipment of the Sex Pistol's single "God Save The Queen", and bang, I felt like I was 13 again. So many great 45s would show up week after week, many of which I have now on CD compilations, burned or otherwise (like The Strangler's version of "Walk On By", performed Doors-style, or The Undertones, a pop-punky Irish band who sang "Here Comes the Summer" like a revved-up Celtic Beach Boys). And then there was the transcendent moment when we opened the boxes containing "The Beatles At the Hollywood Bowl". It was crap, of course, the music drowned out by the screaming (which is probably why it went unreleased for so long), but it was the first new Beatles album in many a moon -- AND I WAS THERE WHEN IT CAME OUT!! It felt like I'd gone back in time and met Jesus' 3rd cousin Shlomo -- sometimes just being downstream from the real thing is enough.

Later I worked at Northern Lights and/or The Landing, and one of my fondest memories is working the Folklife Festival in Seattle. For one brief, shining moment, we were the Offical Record Store of Folklife, and I had a great weekend selling LPs and cassettes of Dougie MacLean, Stan Rogers, The Good Ol' Persons and so many more.

I found so many mentors in record stores -- Ron, who told me about Roy Bookbinder, Tony Rice, and many more bluegrass & folk artists; the time when I went to Discount Records in Seattle to beef up the reggae collection of Music Street in Mount Vernon (by then, we were owned by the same company, so we could shift stock back and forth), and the guy there kept pulling out (I found out later) classic reggae LPs ("Oh, you'll need this, and this -- and definitely this...") -- LPs that still live on in my CD collection; the older black gentleman who'd stop by the store in Bellevue and tell me about Ivey Anderson (vocalist on "Take the A Train" by Duke Ellington) and The Three Suns; the guy who'd bring his Swedish jazz LPs into Northern Lights; Thom and Ron from Northern Lights/The Landing, of course (I'm still stunned that Ron managed to get Richard Thompson & Danny Thompson to play the Lincoln Theatre in Mount Vernon)...the list goes on. Thanks to all and sundry; I hope the tradition continues in tiny record stores across the world...

Gerry Rafferty, RIP

Yeah, I know, "Baker Street", the sax soars and Gerry's voice begins the tale. Or maybe, the Stealer's Wheel standard "Stuck In the Middle With You" (SITMWY) is the tune that comes to mind. I worked in a record store when "Baker Street" hit, and we sold the albums by the shovel-full. Of course, anything THAT popular must be crap, right? Not so fast there, mate. Back even in the pre-Stealer's Wheel days, Gerry's writing stood out. "Please Sing a Song For Us" by the Humblebuns graced a iconic collection of folk/rock standards (all hail "Electric Muse"! - it even featured Al Stewart!), with Gerry's Lennon-esque voice up front. Cut to Stealer's Wheel, with of course SITMWY, but also "Star" (almost a hit), and really good songs like "Benediction", "Late Again" and "Who Cares".

Gerry hit the charts with "Baker Street", and the hits kept coming, but the better songs were buried in the albums. Songs like "As Wise As a Serpent" and "Family Tree" and "The Garden of England" -- well, he was a master of bitter-sweet introspection (with a chaser of optimism). So, okay, maybe the arrangements are a bit too "pop", and yes, he kinda smothered the first attempt at Richard and Linda Thompson's album "Shoot Out the Lights" with a top-heavy production, but..."Baker Street" still offers hope. When it comes on the radio, I always listen. And the song "The Right Moment" always, ALWAYS, makes me re-evaluate what I'm doing (or not doing) to move ahead.

Like the recently passed Gil Scott-Heron, Gerry fought some demons in his life. I hope he's at peace now, especially knowing that his work offers a light to those of us lucky enough to listen.