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...