Celtic guitarist Daithi Sproule

I first heard guitarist Daithi Sproule years ago when I heard an album by Skara Brae, but the connection didn't register until I heard this 2008 collection ("The Crow in the Sun") of guitar instrumentals, which includes one of the pieces featured on the Skara Brae album.  I didn't realize how many people Daithi went on to play with (Altan, Liz Carroll and many, many more) -- the guy's an Irish institution.

I've listened to this CD at least a dozen times so far, and it reveals its subtle charms over time. Daithi's liner notes point out a Bert Jansch influence on a few tracks (more apparent in the Skara Brae album), so that gives you somewhat of an idea what "Crow" sounds like, but beyond the slight Bert-isms, there's a truly delicate blend of Celtic and early music. 

Check it out on the label website newfolkrecords.com My old boss Ken owns the label; he's gotta be proud.  

Technical Difficulties, Again

Just a short post; my internet service is in limbo. Will post this weekend when things get sorted out.

Bootlegs Back in the Day

This is a bad photo of the first bootleg album I owned  (and no, I no longer own it -- this image came from the interwebs.) It's a live recording of Frank Zappa and the Mothers with Zubin Mehta (and the Los Angeles Philharmonic at Pauley Pavilion? Details are fuzzy, both in the photo and in my brain.) They're performing music from what was eventually "200 Motels", and Frank kicks things off with "Hit it, Zubin!"

The record wasn't very good (surprise!) A.: because it's an audience recording, and B: only very late in his life could Frank afford enough rehearsal time for an orchestra, so the performance is a little rough too. But still! A bootleg! Totally unvarnished and unofficial!

As I mentioned in my post about Dylan's Basement Tapes, long before file-sharing, downloading and the internet, bootlegs were the only way to hear unreleased performances, either live recordings, demos or songs recorded in studio sessions but never released on LP. For me, live recordings were dicey, because early on they were recorded by someone sneaking a cassette player into a show. (Later releases were recorded from the soundboard or via radio broadcasts. Since the copyright laws are looser overseas, many late '60s /early '70s radio concert broadcasts are now coming out on CD.) 

Bootlegs also took advantage of arcane record company policies -- many British bands never had their early singles released in the States, so boots filled that need.

There were many famous bootlegs, and naturally they featured the most popular bands: the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Who..., you know, any band with a 'the' in front.  Although the Beatle's Get Back sessions (from the filming of "Let It Be") were eye-opening in a behind-the-veil kind of way, it wasn't something you'd slap on the old turntable for fun, For example, check out the officially sanctioned Beatles "Anthology" series. Sure it's fun the first time you hear Take One of "Strawberry Fields Forever", but the thing is, the Beatles really crafted their final product. Outtakes just don't make it.

Many stores didn't carry bootlegs, and if they did, it was in a special section near the back of the store. Early boots were basically white sleeves rubber stamped with the titles (and I still maintain that the cover of "The Beatles" (the 'white album') was supposed to look like a common bootleg album.)

Things got a little better in the CD era, but not much. 

We used to carry bootlegs at Northern Lights, usually displayed up front where we could keep an eye on them (yes, ironic that we didn't want anyone to steal what was at heart stolen merchandise itself). I still have a few Pink Floyd discs (early singles since released as bonus tracks) and a few Radiohead discs (once again, early singles collected, and a radio concert broadcast or two), and my prize possession is the collection of Beatle's fan club Christmas releases.1963-1969.

We had one guy who'd buy every Neil Young boot we could get in stock, and we sold lots of Pearl Jam and Nirvana; Dylan not so much by then, but still a market for Beatles material.  As was typical of the Northern Lights purchasing strategy, we'd buy, sparingly, whatever artist was popular at the time, so I remember some Tori Amos boots that gathered dust.       

Record labels seem to finally realize the value of rare and/or unreleased material, as box sets are packed to the gills with what once was the mainstay of bootleg culture. And then there's the internet...
Frank Zappa even released the 'Beat the Boots' series, basically re-releasing already existing boots under the official Zappa banner, not as a way of bestowing legitimacy but instead taking the product back from the pirates and cashing in. Too bad my Zappa/Zubin boot wasn't included. Think I'll check YouTube....

Bob Dylan: Down in the Basement and the Whole Bootleg Thing

I've had a complicated relationship with the music of Bob Dylan. Never understood how Peter, Paul and Mary found the melodies in Dylan songs. (The versions I heard sung by Dylan seemed like just rants).  Actually, I was kinda glad I never developed a taste for Dylan -- or Elvis, for that matter. I'd have to take out a loan to just to buy the 'essential' collection of each.

  But along the way, I heard some Dylan I actually enjoyed: versions of Dylan songs by Fairport Convention, a bootleg of "Bear Mountain Picnic Massacree", the Byrds' Roger Mcguinn's version of "You Ain't Goin' Nowhere".

And slowly over the years, I developed a grudging respect for Dylan's massive talent, and began cherry-picking songs I enjoyed. As I get older, I find that the unvarnished versions hold up best for me, thus we get to "The Basement Tapes". I think the first major bootleg of the rock era was "The Great White Wonder", which had a sizeable chunk of the basement tapes, music Dylan recorded with
the Band in Woodstock. The songs weren't intended to be released officially, but instead were a 'sound catalog' of songs Dylan hoped other musicians would record.

There was a version of "The Basement Tapes" released officially, but it was more of a Frankenstein's monster: bits spliced and re-recorded, songs from other sessions, and songs featuring the Band more prominently than as was originally recorded.

Now there's an official, complete Basement Tape collection (Volume 11 of the Bootleg Series) -- 6 CDs and 2 lavish books. Way more than anyone needs, but that's what libraries are for, and even to these ears, it's a fun trawl through the most famous 'unheard' music ever (right up there with the Beach Boy's "Smile"). There's also a 2CD set that's probably as much as most people need.

Listening to this collection got me thinking of the whole bootleg phenomenon of the '60s and '70s, another fascinating slice of history that the internet has made obsolete. Another story for another time...

Gerald Menard, RIP

My father had been diagnosed with Parkinson's for quite a while, and after some falls, he spent most of September in and out of the hospital and Fidalgo Rehabilitation in Anacortes, finally passing away on October 1, with the funeral on October 16. Even though we'd been expecting this with his failing health, it still takes the wind out of your sails for a while.

So why is Gary Lewis here? When I was still in high school, my parents allowed me to pick music to play during Sunday dinner, and it was tricky to find something that everyone could enjoy, or at least tolerate. Glen Campbell's early albums worked, same with Tijuana Brass -- and for some reason, Gary Lewis and the Playboys. We recently watched the DVD about The Wrecking Crew, the stellar collection of studio musicians who played on not only the Gary Lewis albums, but EVERYTHING. No, really, when the session list scrolls at the end of the movie, it is truly astounding how much they shaped the sound of radio in the early '60s. My father was into Barbra Streisand, and later, Celine Dion, so we didn't share much of a musical diet, but I remember fondly those dinners and I think Gary Lewis was a part of that. So, thanks Gary and Crew; rest well, Dad.

More blog posts to come soon.

Trying to Understand Captain Beefheart

I bought "How to Write About Music" because I needed help. Turns out it's actually a textbook for a college-level course in Music Criticism -- who knew? And as in any textbook, there are assignments.
The first is to listen to an artist "you are completely unfamiliar with" and write a review. Well, okay, I figured rap/hip-hop is out of my comfort zone, let's start with that. Oops. I remembered some Snoop Dogg and Dr. Dre videos from back when MTV actually showed videos, so my son went through his collection and made me a "Best of Death Row" (the label) based on the songs I remembered liking.

Yikes! MTV of course played the scrubbed clean versions. I listened to the uncensored versions in my car on the way to work and felt like I was being assaulted. I liked the musical aspects, but kept coming up hard against the lyrics.

Okay, so Attempt Number Two: Entertainment Weekly and Rolling Stone sang the praises of "How to Pimp a Butterfly" by Lamar Kendrick (or Kendrick Lamar -- I'm always getting it wrong) so I gave that a try. Made it through the first few songs...

So. Captain Beefheart. This really was cheating: I've heard Captain Beefheart before, even liked a few of his songs. Heck, I even owned a copy of "Clear Spot" which was issued in a clear plastic sleeve! But I never listened to it much, mostly only the song "Too Much Time", which frankly sounds the least like Captain Beefheart than any of his other songs. But I just didn't "get" Beefheart.

Sometimes when I'm exposed to something touted as 'great' and I don't understand it, my initial reaction is "this artist is pulling a fast one" (Yoko One is another example for me.) What am I missing?

My father is currently in a managed care facility after a series of falls at home. With physical therapy, we hope he'll be able to come home eventually, but that seems like a long road. On my days off, I go to see him, and lately I've been listening to Captain Beefheart during the half-hour drive. Why? You'd think I'd listen to something soothing because these visits are sad and disappointing. But the good Captain gives me something to wrestle with, and darned if he isn't starting to make sense. I'll give him a few more listens and see if I can crack this case. (And I hope this will still count for my homework assignment!)

Alison Krauss, Revisited

I've spent the last few weeks listening again to most of the Alison Krauss catalog, from her first solo album to the latest ("Paper Airplanes") with Union Station. Hearing them in sequence allows you to follow her developing style, not that it needed 'developing', because she was fully-formed on the very fist album (when she was something like 14 years old?)

Alison's been able to rely on various band members over the years for great songs, and she has a knack for finding other songwriters' material that she interprets in her own style. It takes a truly talented performer who can make a Beatles song sound like their own. I'd bet that after her first few albums, word got out and and songwriters were beating down her door.

It was quite a hoot to hear how Alison's vocal style changed over the years. She had a clear, ringing tone at the beginning, perfect for bluegrass, but by the 3rd or 4th album, she added more breath to her voice; she'd found the coo that she still employs today.

I'd mentioned in an earlier blog post how we'd seen Alison Krauss and Union Station in the early days (Wednesday, November 10, 1993) and how much fun they seemed to be having on stage. Cut to the official AKUS live album from 2002 and it's all business. I'll have to watch the DVD of the concert again -- maybe with the longer playing time of the DVD, we get more glimpses of band interaction. And man, I'd like to know the background story of Union Station. She employed them on her second album, and slowly (like Wilco) members left until by 1998 or so, she had the band that she still performs with today. "Paper Airplanes" is the latest album, and my wife and I both agree that it's good, it just sounds like they're on autopilot. They've got their style down pat. James Taylor has admitted in interviews that he's more of a craftsman these days that an "artist", and maybe that's what's going on with Alison. Of course, I haven't followed the whole story -- didn't really like the "Raising Sand" album she recorded with Robert Plant, and the subsequent tour meant Union Station was on hiatus for a while, so maybe "Paper Airplanes" is a tentative step back into the saddle.