Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blues

Dude. Grad school is, like, superhard. They expect you to show up to all your classes. You have to do all the reading. You can't get drunk on a Tuesday night anymore. No one told me this was what I was getting myself into!

Thanks, Harvard.

But srsly, don't think for a second I haven't given up on the music. I'm going to attempt to use my Saturday mornings wisely and put up something new every week. And while I have some thoughts on The Ghost of Tom Joad that I would like to share, I'm going to focus this week on a few of the releases I got, thanks to Newbury Comics and Planet Records here in Cambridge.

Coming up, though, I will have reflections on teaching a class on African American History through Music and an index of the record stores in the Boston/Cambridge area. I will also be on the lookout for great live music in the area. Great things happening here at Frenchman Street. (Which is in New Orleans, but hey, who's keeping score?)

So let's dig in, starting with an oldie but newfound goodie from a Stax great.

The Very Best of Eddie Floyd

With names like Otis Redding and Sam & Dave in the Stax cannon, it's easy to neglect Eddie Floyd. He was never the burst of manic energy that we so often think of when we imagine southern soul, and never quite looked like a superstar (a little overweight in his prime). He did have an unmistakable tenor that served him well and a crooner's charm. And his ability to write his own songs (with the help of legendary Stax guitarist and member of Booker T. and the MGs Steve Cropper) gave him a great deal of control over his own career that suited him well.

So here for the uninitiated is 20 classics from this underrated soul legend, including the song that made him famous, even if you don't realize it yet, Knock on Wood. Starting with the foot stomping Stax horns, fans of Girl Talk will pick up this riff instantly and everyone will feel they knew those three drum hits just before the chorus. If you want a song to reflect your insecurity about losing a beautiful woman or just to dance to, this will do the trick.

Floyd never matched that initial success commercially, but he wrote a few more classics in his time. "I've Never Found A Girl (To Love Me Like You Do)", later covered by Al Green, is a classic soul ballad, sung with a touching sincerity that his shouting counterparts could never replicate. "Raise Your Hand" later became an anthem of many a classic Bruce Springsteen concert. He also ventured into blues with On a Saturday Night and even reggae with 1973's Baby, Lay Your Head Down (Gently on My Bed).

Floyd is still performing and recording today, often touring with the Blues Brothers Band. But here's a video of him in his prime. Not a hi-fi recording by any respect, but everyone should see the Stax legends on their Europe tours.

Band of Horses- Infinite Arms

After Fleet Foxes made earthy CSN-style harmonies cool again, it was only a matter of time before Band of Horses jumped into the mainstream. And here they are, with a new record contract at Columbia, a new home in North Carolina (after leaving the Sub Pop dynasty in the Northwest) and their best album yet. While their previous album, Cease to Begin, was rooted in a tortured indie sound that gave their brand of Americana serious weight, Infinite Arms brings that together with a few countrified riffs and southern rock keyboards courtesy of Ryan Monroe. The key to this album, though, is Ben Bridwell. Kudos to the man who thought, "Let's record this dude's voice three or four times and create freaking harmonies that would make the Eagles disband again and put us all out of our misery!

Ben's vocals give this album a lilting beauty that completely changes the tenor of this album. Songs that are often filled with doubt become uplifting and even romantic without losing any of their original meaning. Ben is looking back and seeing a person at times naïve and foolish, and finding a way to reconcile that man with his present self. In doing so he looks to God, to Laredo, to home, and to friends and Midwestern skies. These are coming of age stories made to remind you of Neil Young, yet feeling wholly new and refreshing. You can see how this hit #7 on Billboard.

But beware, Band of Horses! Don't get too content, lest we see you turn into a modern James Taylor figure, becoming a happy, well-adjusted person who sings dull, droopy versions of old Motown songs.

Had a hard time finding a good video for them, but here they are on Letterman, playing Laredo.

Blitzen Trapper- Destroyer of the Void

Speaking of the Sub-Pop dynasty, here's another outing from up and comers, Blitzen Trapper. Destroyer of the Void is another solid outing from a group who happily recalls every great folk-rock experiment of the 1960s. That's not to say that this band is stuck in a holding pattern. The title track is a six minute masterpiece, a story of a restless wanderer told in at least three distinct parts. We start our tale with Byrds style melodies before the wanderer takes the stage for an Abbey Road- like sprint through some of his early adventures before their heaviest riffs ever in a hard rocking conclusion.

The opener makes for a hard act to beat, but it sets the tone for the album. It contains a number of moments that are heavier than anything they had done, particularly Love and Hate and Laughing Lover. That said, there is nothing that matches the sunny pop of Sleepytime in the Western Hold. It's darker, but on the whole, it's not quite dark. With the exception of "The Man Who Could Speak True", which just seems too close both in music and story to their utterly brilliant "Black River Killer." That said, they are probably the first band in twenty years that knows how to play a harmonica.

Prognosis? It's a damn fine outing from a damn fine band, and while it won't get the across the board praise of Furr, it certainly shows that Blitzen Trapper are adventurers who won't stand still and aren't going anywhere.

Here they are in an a record store in Nashville.

Yeasayer- Odd Blood

Following in T.V. on the Radio's footsteps, Yeasayer have figured out that rock and techno make for a damn fine combination and, with this album, are one of the few rock bands that have made an album perfectly comfortable in a club or rave, though you can still blast it through your car stereo. Check out Modegreen, which gives you rough techno, Stax horns, and a few anarchic guitar solos to see what I mean or the '80s throwback of O.N.E. to see what I mean.

Tell your local DJ about these guys, and enjoy them in bed or on the dance floor. Also a shout out to Blake for loaning me this one. I'll get it back to her one of these days.

Here's an '80s tribute of a video for O.N.E.

And finally, on to the blues…

Tab Benoit- Fever for the Bayou

Some blues fans out there might have seen this album and thought, "Did I really need another version of I Can't Hold Out?" No you didn't, and that's one of only two missteps (the other being the overly nostalgic "The Blues is Here to Stay") on an otherwise magnificent outing from Swampmaster Benoit from 2005. Benoit is an exceptional blues guitar player with a soulful wail of a voice. And while he is clearly following in the footsteps of many a white blues player who listened to Stevie Ray Vaughan records in the '80s, he also knows his share of zydeco and Cajun pop, which gives his music a special spice. So while every bar player in Chicago is stuck playing Muddy Waters knockoffs, Benoit is hooking up with Big Chief Monk Boudreaux for a Mardi Gras Indian track, "Golden Crown," or injecting some soul into the proceedings with "Lost in Your Lovin." Even better, he has gotten better with age and is an exceptional live performer with a deep love for the environment and music of his home state.

Here's the title track at New Orleans' famous Rock 'n' Bowl.

That's all for this week. I'll give a quick shout out to the deluxe edition of Iggy and the Stooges' Raw Power, which brings back the original David Bowie mix of the album along with a concert that shows just how fucking crazy Iggy was in his heyday. See y'all next week.

I’m back! Here’s the word from five months of Music

Hey people. Wowzers so senior project eats a lot of time. My apologies for missing out on a ton of blogging, but such is the state of affairs when one is committed to writing over 100 pages in one five month interval. I'm temporarily back in the blogging business, at least until things get particularly crazy at grad school. I'll try my best, though, to clock in at least once a week.

I've got a lot of thoughts swirling about. I want to talk about my senior project, particularly some of the music I discovered along the way, not to mention some of my thoughts on the Lomaxes. I also intend to update my Best Albums of 2009, as promised. But I thought I might focus on some of the new discoveries of 2010, ones which I haven't been able to write about just yet.

Now it's been a slow process getting acclimated to the music scene of 2010, but I can already mark a few early successes and am ready to make some premature conclusions. First of all, it seems that driving guitar rock seems to be back at last. And I don't mean that some dinosaur has made a comeback album. Or that Jack White's new project is any good. (It's decent, but really I miss the Raconteurs.) I mean, young bands are actually moving away from the disco revivalism of TV on the Radio and the sunny (though often ironic) pop harmonies of the Shins. They're dusting off the electric guitars and the amps, learning how to play riffs again, and rocking out.

Now don't get me wrong. Frenchman Street takes all comers, and I'll never pass up on a song like TV on the Radio's Golden Age (as good an argument for disco as any song ever made). But it's refreshing to hear something catchy coming out of those amped up six strings again.

Here's a profile of some of the albums of 2010 (well technically one's from 2009, albeit late in the year) that have shown the guitar can still be relevant again. Two of these bands have released major label debuts, while the other two are actually vets who seem to be getting hot at just the right time (and generating a bit of buzz for their efforts.)

Free Energy- Stuck on Nothing

• You know a musician is showing his age when he starts longing for- or at least defending- the sorts of dead end places that he decried in his youth. Rock for young musicians is about escaping the small towns and dead end places of youth. Look at the evolution of Bruce Springsteen. He made his fame as a writer of songs about escape and loneliness in the small towns of America. "Tramps like us, baby, we were born to run." Straightforward, right? But by Born in the U.S.A, he's making songs like "My Hometown" and "Working on the Highway" which accepted the small town life that he once hoped to flee from, even celebrating it sometimes. They're not bad songs, but he got old. Well… he hit his thirties, but you see the point. He preceded to usher in the dreaded "heartland rock" that celebrated the life of being in a "small town." This was rock for the settled and comfortable.
  

  Listening to Springsteen, though, I'm reminded that the best rock bands write songs that are anthems of escape and/or rebellion. And here comes Free Energy, with their opening self-titled song from Stuck on Nothing to remind us of that simple truth. Make no mistake, the four chords of that opener (courtesy of this album's MVP, guitarist Scott Wells) will be in your ears for the next few months, a pitch perfect fist pumping driving anthem. "We're breaking out this time… We're going to try a new life, see how it goes." That's all you need to know about the spirit of this album. Free Energy is not the most dangerous band you'll ever hear, and their singer, Paul Sprangers, is a bit bland at times. He sings the way James Franco (pre- Pineapple Express) would in my mind. But their energy is infectious Stick them in a playlist in between Weezer and Cheap Trick, and you've got a perfect summer roadtrip playlist. Enjoy!
  

Foxy Shazam- Foxy Shazam

• The third album from this Cincinatti (really?) based quintet, but their first with major label, Sire, so it seems to be their arrival album. Thankfully they've lost none of the winking bombast that makes them one of the most fun discoveries of the year. Like the Darkness in their prime, these guys have carried on the epic rock- complete with sweeping strings, horns from member Alex Nauth, and on "Connect", a gospel choir- of the '70s into the 21^st century, but with no desire to take themselves seriously. They even have the look, with Eric Nally busting out Freddie Mercury's hair from the '70s (long) and his moustache from the '80s. (Which is for the best, as only Freddie could make the Middle Eastern Dictator look seem likeable.) And like any great frontman, Nally dominates the sound of this stage. He has all the qualities of your average indie frontman, but he rises above the fray with a ridiculously wide vocal range, reaching its highest notes in "Second Floor." And of course like every great frontman, his band is good enough to back him up and push him forward. Loren Turner creates hooks, both melodic and bone crushing, which is a rare quality for guitarists. Sky White has gotten a lot of buzz on piano and rightly so, centering the sound of the album in a tasteful fashion. On "Oh Lord" he can always be heard providing a baroque touch to a song that seems pre-packaged for stadium rock. And really, how could a power ballad like Bye Bye Symphony work without a little ebony 'n' ivory keeping the melody. Daisy, sadly, is too often drowned in the mix, but keeps a solid rhythm along with Aaron McVeigh, who does what every great '70s rock drummer did- pound the drums and crash the symbols ferociously.
  

  Bottom line is this is a sample of rock at its most absurdly grand. It's a big sound that one hopes will find a home at a time when big productions are making a comeback.
  

New Pornographers- Together

• The New Pornographers have been a long standing presence in indie rock and power pop. So what's new here? Not too much really, except that after a decade of recording, the core of the band is tighter than ever, putting forth a powerful mix of strong hooks, rock solid rhythms, and the magnificent harmonies of Carl Newman, Neko Case, and Dan Bejar, put on display on Crash Years and Your Hands, particularly. The group moves briskly through a 44 minute set of pop music that truly rocks and never dissolves into melancholy or ironic cheerfulness (see: Apples in Stereo). All the while, the band is supplemented by strings and horns from the Dap Kings. It's a sound that is getting notice outside of all the usual circles of critics, charting at 18 on Billboard. (Of course, that's probably in no small part because sales have been in free fall all decade, so that may not be the best metric, but it will certainly mean more press attention over the next few months.) In short, this is fun, powerful pop (Hey! Power Pop!) based in indie music, but also taking calls from old school rock productions.
  

The Hold Steady- Heaven is Whenever

• Okay I'm going back to Springsteen, because I've been listening to a lot of the Boss lately. (And wondering whether he should have been the topic of my senior project.) Here's the thing about Boss that people sometimes forget. More than any musician other than Dylan, he made rock music safe terrain for literary types. The difference, though, is that while Dylan made the music safe for the surreal, Springsteen made it safe for the storyteller. More than just about any songwriter, he wrote about true characters. You had the various gangs of his first few albums, the tortured souls of Nebraska, and, recently, the fireman of The Rising. And he could tell these stories with a six-piece band behind him. He brought the storytellers of the Anthology of American Folk Music into the age of rock music like no one else.
  

  Following in that tradition is the Hold Steady. Having always been known for stories of war-weary characters, they continue onward in that tradition with their fifth album. Every song deals with characters who are not ready to accept the world as is, as Springsteen was by the time he sang "My Hometown." But they're getting close to that age where they're supposed to, and they seem to know that they're making their last escapes on songs like "The Weekenders" and "The Sweet Part of the City." On "We Can Get Together" they are clinging to the sounds of the past (name dropping Paradise by the Dashboard Light and Utopia), and proclaiming that (SPOILER ALERT) "Heaven is whenever we can get together." These are often broken characters but they are not giving up yet.
  

  Credit as always goes to Craig Finn for great lyrics, and to Tad Kubler for some blazing guitars. He takes on an extra burden to carry the sound in the absence of keyboardist Franz Nicolay, who left the band in 2009. Kudos also goes to producer Dean Baltulonis, who creates a large and sweeping sound that never strays too far from the album's distinct Americana roots. It's an arena-ready Americana album with Abbey Road-style backing vocals. How often do you hear that?
  

  The Hold Steady were on the Colbert Report recently. Check 'em out to hear and see what they're like.
  

 

Stay tuned for more articles for the future. I'm going to try to work at a once a week pace. We'll see how that goes. In the meantime, check out these albums. I'm going to see if I can embed some videos to give you an idea what you're hearing.

My Amazon Gift Card Comes in Handy: New Music this Week

So this has been a great week for new music. Shout out to my aunt for the Amazon Gift Card, held over from Christmas. I finally received my CDs as they shipped while I was in New Orleans. I also heard some new stuff in the radio station, and even picked up some nice purchases from Trash American Style's Malcolm Tent, who brought his music stand to Bard this past Thursday. Here are some mini reviews of a few of these albums. Some new, some old, all good.

 

Them Crooked Vultures- Them Crooked Vultures

Another year, another Dave Grohl side project. Seriously, though, this is an intriguing item. Josh Homme, lead singer and guitarist of Queens of the Stone Age, team up with Grohol (Nirvana, Foo Fighters) and John Paul Jones (Led Zeppelin).

Supergroups tend to get a bad rep because the hype machine behinds these projects tends to go a bit out of control. (That and they tend to be side projects so they don't have much staying power. They're not supposed to.) I actually think most supergroups work out pretty well. Good musicians, after all, are generally good musicians wherever you put them. I also think rock fans are way too eager to blow their wad on saying "OMG JACK WHITE IS GONNA BE IN A MOVIE WITH FLEA! THAT'S AWESOME!!!!!!111!!1!11!1!!!1 Great musicians play together all the time. In jazz it's just part of the trade, which is how nobody flips their shit when Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Cannonball Adderley, and Bill Evans all play on an album. Not that people don't notice when they make great music, but everybody knows that's how you do things in jazz. Ditto with blues and hip/hop.

That said supergroups tend to work when you have one clear alpha dog working with other equally famous but magnificent collaborators, which is what you have here. Homme is clearly the guy leading the way on this project. Grohl and John Paul Jones, in turn, supplement his vision in lots of exciting ways. And they know how to do that. Dave Grohl played drums, of course for Nirvana and once for Queens of the Stone Age. (Oh and he also played with this mediocre band of Green Day-wannabes called Foo Fighters. Sorry Dave, but drums are just plain what you do best.) And John Paul Jones, aside from playing bass for Led Zep, has had no problem playing producer in just about every genre on the planet and effectively. Few producers are so versatile, and also so effective at getting a natural sound out of their musicians. (Can you name any bass players for '70s metal bands that later played mandolin on an all-girl's bluegrass group? Uncle Earl. Check them out.)

So these guys are pretty effective foils for Homme, and that makes the band work so well. Grohl provides powerful and funky backbeats on songs like No One Loves Me and Neither Do You, while JPJ is a dependable hand at bass while also providing some magnificent flourishes on keyboards, including reviving the Led Zep-era clavinet on Scumbag Blues, injecting, and some soft piano on Spinning in Daffodils, providing wonderful textures to the mix.

Some have claimed that this is just a sub-par Queens of the Stone Age record. I would disagree, as I think Queens has always been rooted in their own unique blend of punk and raw grunge rock. As far as I can see, this band branches out into more diverse musical territory, borrowing heavily from metal and funk. The production is a pretty large Wall of Sound that is at times (particularly on New Fang and Spinning in Daffodils,), downright trance like. It is a big sound. Lyrics, though? Pure Queens, filled with paranoid and neurotic imagery. Gotta love it. Grohl and JPJ seem to push Homme to new heights as a guitar player, with some wonderful that evoke Mars Volta, Sabbath, and even (on "New Fang) My Bloody Valentine. (The huge wall of guitars sound, with that one three note riff drifting in and out definitely has a bit of a shoegazer vibe to it, except done by a hard rock band with a little blues riffing for added effect.

Overall, a wonderfully strange yet catchy collection from three magnificent musicians. As mentioned, supergroups don't last long, and sequels rarely match the original album, so we'll see what they have in them, assuming they stick together.

Sara Watkins- Sara Watkins

Hey speaking of John Paul Jones! JPJ produces and gets the occasional bass credit on Sara Watkins' debut solo album, the first major word we get from her since Nickel Creek went on hiatus. No big gossip on their breakup. They are taking a break so that they don't hate each other. How wonderfully sensible. (And boring. Seriously… what's a blogger to do with no rumors of fist fights or personal attacks in the press? This is why music isn't in the public consciousness anymore. Actors are so much more fun to write about these days.) That said, brother Sean joins in on guitar for a few tracks on this album and Chris Thile contributes to a lovely arrangement of Give Me Jesus.

Musically there are no great surprises on this one. Watkins gets to take center stage with her voice, and fiddle on a collection of catchy bluegrass, country, and singer-songwriter folk and she does it well. She has a remarkable voice that can express a world-weariness that beautiful songs such as Lord Won't You Help Me and Pony. Such songs that emphasize her skills as a singer and songwriter work well, but she really shines when she gets to break out the fiddle. The best songs on the album feature plenty of fiddle and old fashioned country and bluegrass arrangements. She plays off her instrument so well, and that extra voice in the band serves to boost her own performance as a singer. She sings with a certain wildness on the foot stomping work song, Long Hot Summer Day, that is missing from more somber affairs such as Where Will You Be. Then Any Old Time is a joyous tribute to the old arrangements of great Patsy Cline songs, complete with a jazzy touch to the pedal steel. (If you've heard The Ditty Bops, you'll know what I'm talking about.

All in all, this is what you would expect from a former fiddle player of Nickel Creek. But it takes all the best of Nickel Creek's music, including Watkins' stirring and forceful vocals, never being overly cloying or cute. If there's anyone in the band with the clear potential to strike out on a long and successful solo career, and claim the mantle as "The Next Allison Krauss" (Okay New Years Resolution: Last time I call someone "The Next" anything), it is Sara Watkins.

Otis Spann- Otis Spann is the Blues

Kudos to Malcolm Tent's Trash American Style for this find. $6
in the used bin. Awesome.

Otis Spann gained his fame as part of Muddy Waters' legendary Chess band and though he was particularly comfortable as a sideman, he had a natural and understated flair as a frontman in his own write. While Waters was a fiery shouter of a blues singer, Spann had a smoother, more soulful touch, particularly on songs like this 5 minute opener The Hard Way, a classy song perfect for the quiet, smoky jazz club of your imagination. He's the one you relax to before Muddy gets on the stage a few hours later.

And lest we forget, he was the best blues player of his generation. He kept perfect time and made the instrument sing with passion and feeling, while also being lightning quick. When he felt like it he could race ahead of your average dreary blues player. He could also hold down wonderful blues rhythms, making for great foot stomping fun.

It is no wonder then that he became Waters' favorite piano player and a key fixture in his band for 16 years (1952-1968) recording on many of his greatest tracks. Sadly we lost him too soon. He passed away in 1970 from liver cancer at the all too early age of 40.

It took years for Spann to officially start his own band and solo career, but he periodically went solo for recording sessions with other musicians, including this album Otis Spann is the Blues with Robert Lockwood, Jr. as his guitarist, famous as the sorta-stepson and occasional traveling companion of Robert Johnson. Lockwood sings occasionally on this album, but his guitar playing is what makes him stand out as a great sideman. Though he recognizes Spann as the clear star (hence the album name), he plays skillfully. He never catches fire, but like great guitarists like T-Bone Walker, he blurs the line between jazz and guitar wonderfully, keeping the sessions relaxed and enjoyable and leaving for Spann to really keep things fiery.

Spann is known to blues aficionados, but he was never given the time on this earth to really dominate the blues scene like perhaps he should have (that and blues is very much guitar and harmonica territory, as opposed to piano). So his solo material is hard to find. But it is perfect music to sit and chill to, never dull but always relaxed. Totally check it out. And if anyone has his final solo album The Biggest Thing Since Colossus, featuring Peter Green, Danny Kirwan, and John McVie of Fleetwood Mac, get that to me ASAP.

That is all for now. More later. Before I leave, though, a salute to the Who Dat? Nation and the New Orleans Saints for defeating the Indianapolis Colts 31-17. I will say that, next to the Giants/Patriots game, this was the most exciting Super Bowl I've seen yet and was happy to be a part of it, ridiculous face paint and all. Also big thanks to the fine folks who bought cookies, cupcakes, and beads to sponsor the Bard/New Orleans Project and our continuing work in the city. Awesome job everybody.

You Can’t Stop the Signal: Grammy Thoughts and the Return of Browncoat Radio

Wow did I pick a bad time to start a blog. Senior project is kicking into high gear, so blogging will get a bit rocky this semester. But I'm going to stick to getting at least one blog post a week out to you guys and we'll see what happens.

First things first: I'm back on the radio! Some of you know that I have a radio show out of WXBC Bard College Radio as my alterego Mr. Universe called Browncoat Radio. I will be back in the station on what I believe will be Mondays from 2-4 P.M. The time is in flux, as we at the radio station try to figure out a final schedule, but that's a safe bet for now.

To listen in, check us out at wxbc.bard.edu, and hit Listen. You got an on campus option and an off campus option. I run a request show, so feel free to call in at 845-752-5300, or check me out on Facebook to let me know what you want to hear from week to week.

Meanwhile, the Grammys. I know I'm a bit late to the party on this one, but hey, it's not like the Grammys are all that relevant anyway. I don' t know any music fans who watch the Grammys the way movie fans might watch the Academy Awards. It is not considered the definitive take on music in 2010, or even a particularly dynamic evening of entertainment. At least the Oscars occasionally put forward a fun comedian to host the event. (Or in the case of Hugh Jackman, a fun musical number.)

But hey, they are our big awards night, and I might as well get my say. It seems that, after some interesting choices the last two years (2009's Album of the Year went to Robert Plant and Allison Krauss's Raising Sand, while 2008 went to truly unorthodox Herbie Hancock's The River Letters), the 2010 Grammys were dominated by displays for the big moneymakers. Album of the Year went to Taylor Swift this year, which is about as bland as you can get with the Album of the Year award. You'd think someone might have heard her tonedeaf rehearsals with Taylor Swift and raced to switch that envelop with the one for Lady Gaga (or in my dream world, the Felice Brothers' Yonder is the Clock). I'm not sure if the Grammy Awards have ever made such a blatant salute to big sellers in the bland, teenybopper world, over, you know, quality music.

Now I'm not actually much of an indie snob. There is a lot of pretentious, hipster shit out there that has nowhere near the likeability of, say, Song of the Year Single Ladies (side note: Derek Trucks, get on the instrumental version of this song. I've been hearing your instrumental version of this song in my dreams for the past year.) or Record of the Year Kings of Leon (another side note: Awesome to see these guys getting their due, even if not for their best song, Black Thumbnail.) These happen to be awesome songs from talented musicians. I'm just not so certain they represent the best music of the year. Recognizing that everyone has their own list of the best music, wouldn't it be nice to get something that didn't annoy the hell out of all of us after Clear Channel stations played them 90 times a day in every corner of America. Instead of ghettoizing Phoenix's Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix to the Best Alternative Music section or Levon Helm's Electric Dirt to the Best Americana Album, couldn't we give them some credit by putting them into the Album of the Year category? Just once in a while might be nice.

But then that would take away from what the Grammys are really about, which is selling the big record labels' biggest products, which by the way are appealing to fewer and fewer people as the rest of us niche music-lovers wonder when we get our time in the sun.

Some quick hit thoughts: Zinn, Salinger, State of the Union

Greetings everybody. So I'm a bit scattered right now as I attempt to burn through John Dewey's Democracy and Education, so I thought I might just make a couple small statements for now on things that are on my mind. I know that I haven't really written a straight up music post this week, but I will definitely work that in as I go. Here's what is on my mind.

- So we've had a couple of unfortunate celebrity deaths this week. First of all, J.D. Salinger, who died in New Hampshire yesterday at the grand old age of 91. Now I don't have as much emotional attachment to Mr. Salinger. I could not stand Catcher in the Rye, as I considered it whiny and self serving and led to several generations of pampered white people making bestsellers by complaining about how hard it is to go to elite private schools and get everything you could possibly need. I do have to recognize his impact, though, on many of my friends. I also respect his insistence on a private life in the face of celebrity. Instead of rushing out to get multimillion dollar film deals for his work, he has enjoyed a quiet, media free life for the last 40 years. I hope in that time he found the peace he was looking for. I hope that the inevitable movie deal that his family will sign will lead to something good, and not a Hollywood schlockfest with that kid from High School Musical playing Holden Caulfield.

- It seems rather ironic that Salinger died so shortly after Howard Zinn. After all, in one corner we have someone who displayed the existential angst of whiny, rich kids. In the other corner, we have someone who throughout his life actually presented the real life suffering, abuse, and continuing strength of the truly poor and working class peoples of America. Personally I'm going to go with Mr. Zinn, who died half a day before Salinger at 87.

Don't get me wrong. Zinn is not perfect. One can't help but be a little skeptical at a socialist who claims Matt Damon and Ben Affleck as your best friends. Unlike most comfortable academics, though, Zinn has an incredible resume in working on behalf of oppressed peoples. He first attended a Communist rally when he was 17, tracked the death toll of his bomber flights in World War II because he was so traumatized by war, and worked as a professor in the 1950s at historically black Spellman College, only to quit when the college refused to get involved in the Civil Rights Movement. His last act as a college professor? Joining a picket line at Boston University for workers at the school.

Then there is his most famous book, A People's History of the United States. Speaking as a historian, Zinn's book can be a bit simplistic and is stubbornly tied to a very specific narrative of American history, a constant tumult of American oppression of minorities, women, and working classes. Yet if ever there was a history that had the potential to change lives, it is A People's History, a book which opened my eyes to a radically new interpretation of history where the Mexican War was an imperialist abuse of power, Native Americans were not completely wiped out in the 1890s, and Columbus was a huge douchebag. In short, though I don't agree with everything in the book (I'm not the committed pacifist that Zinn is, nor do I take such a dour view of advancements in civil rights and worker's rights int he 20th century that Zinn does), no book rocked my world the way his did. For that I have to thank him and say that he will be missed. I hope that the continuing struggles of today will call to the floor more leaders like Howard Zinn.

Or alternatively, maybe his time has passed as liberalism of this century takes a more measured and policy-driven tone. Either way I hope that people continue to take lessons of A People's History to heart and look to create change from the bottom up and not wait for Obama to make the change for us.

- Slightly related note. I hope that John Edward's truly unbelievable fall from grace doesn't discourage other politicians from talking about the stark divisions between rich and poor in this country. There are a lot of tragic elements to this story, but most of them are at the personal level, and we should just leave his wife and his kids (all of them) alone from here on out. I fear, though, he may have damaged the country by shutting down any true movement for the people in this country and thus ceding the ground of the Democratic Party to the "centrist" corporate Democrats. That appears unfortunately to be what Obama is. Don't tell me otherwise about Obama until he gets real financial regulation on the table, not to mention a jobs bill and a true energy bill. I'm willing to give him a shot to show off his progressive bonafides, but he has to earn it.
Speaking of which...
- Weighing in quickly on the State of the Union. I'm glad Obama is focusing on jobs. I hope he follows through and pumps a lot of money into creating a legitimate and impactful jobs bill. I'm also glad to hear support for community banks, as well as college debt-relief. And I'm excited to hear about Don't Ask Don't Tell, though that's a baby step in gay rights. Really, what we need at this point is a repeal of the odious Defense of Marriage Act.

Downside? His proposals to deal with climate change were downright shocking, as he vigorously defended nuclear power, clean coal, and offshore drilling. For him to take on all the right wing solutions to climate change, ones which are either dangerous, nonexistent, or massive, ineffectual giveaways to oil companies, was quite simply a betrayal of his base and environmentalism in the vain hope that he will get votes from Republicans. In short, not gonna happen, and these proposals damn well better not happen either.

- As to music, nothing big for this post. I am currently listening to The Emperor's New Clothes from Elton John's Songs From the West Coast. Check this album out, and everything he has done in the 21st century. As he soaks in dollars from the oldies circuit with Billy Joel, he is quietly having a true creative resurgence, making his best music since he was pretending to be a cowboy in the early 1970s.

Also check out www.archive.org. It's a free online forum for live music from some of the great live performers of our generation, all of which have approved live trading through this website. Derek Trucks, Robert Randolph, Widespread Panic, and tons more, not to mention a massive catalogue of Grateful Dead stuff. All of this music can be downloaded, and I've never had problems with viruses on the site.

Okay back to work. Happy Friday everybody!

An Open Letter to Ron Moore (On the topic of a Star Wars Prequel Trilogy Reimagining)

Dear Ronald Moore,

Hi. How are you? I know I'm relatively new to the intertubes community. Sure, I had my Facebook, my MySpace, my RPG that my sister and I played when we were 13 wherein we were students at the American version of Hogwarts. (Named Wartshog... very creative.) That said, this is my first blog, so I don't have much of a following. But if you happen to run across this while googling your name, hear my pleas.

First of all, I love your work. Everything you did in the Star Trek universe was golden. Next Generation was brilliant of course, and Deep Space Nine continues to take the cake for creativity and drama, particularly during the Dominion War. You also gave the finger to Voyager, for which we are all most grateful.

And of course Battlestar. Where even to begin? The interpersonal drama. The social commentary and brilliant historical parallels. The hottest sex on television, including that weird glowing red spine thing. We loved it all, and while we don't quite get the deal with All Along the Watchtower, the Starbuck's a ghost thing, or why the First Cylon kills himself in that half second clip in the series finale, we're fine with it just to watch the brilliance of the Cylons marching through New Caprica one more time. Suffice it to say, for my generation, yours is the only Battlestar. (And Glenn Larson can suck it. Seriously, you disappear for 30 years, and all you have is the original Battlestar all over again?! And Brian Singer, you're directing this steaming pile? Couldn't you just stick to butchering the Superman franchise? GAH!)

Now I get that Caprica is your thing right now, but while you're getting that off the ground (but... wait a minute... Cylons existed as humans before BSG... didn't you kindof just ruin everything that was supposed to be shocking about the miniseries?), I have another series that is in desperate need of reimagining. That is the Star Wars Prequel Trilogy.

I don't need to go into much detail. I'm sure you remember the epic fail of the Prequel Trilogy. Not to project much, but I imagine you grimacing when you saw the Gungans. Or perhaps when Yoda jumped around like a wet cat whose testicles had just been shocked. Or everytime Hayden Christensen opened his mouth. Let's look past that for a minute, though, and look at the world that George Lucas created, whether he intended to or not.

The Galactic Republic as presented in the prequel trilogy is a pretty decadent and debauched place. The leadership is incompetent and corrupt. Worlds such as Naboo are frequently abused by quasi-government bodies like the Trade Federation, which the Senate is powerless to stop. There is a lot of poverty in the streets, as shown in the Coruscant underworld in Attack of the Clones. While Lucas may have put a super clean CGI sheen over these movies, for most people, the Republic is probably a pretty cruel and filthy place. And that's just on the central planets. Oh, and there's also a war going on.

Now think about it. If you were the average person on Coruscant or Aldoran, wouldn't someone like Chancellor Palpotine have quite a bit of appeal to you? He's strong. He's charismatic. He sticks it to the Jedi elite in their giant towers. Hell, even someone like Count Dooku could be quite appealing.

That's what was always scary about Palpotine. Sure, Vader was the muscle, but Palpotine was the brains in this Sith relationship. He could brilliantly play on people's fears, leading of course to anger, to hate, to suffering. That was his true power, not the lightning out of his hands or his skill with a light saber. Likewise, Yoda's true power was appealing to our greater wisdom. These were not great characters or Jedi because of any physical skill, yet they were reduced to that by the end of the prequel trilogy.

Now Lucas certainly started to get that during Episode III, and Ian McDiarmid almost saves the series with his interplay with Walking Screen Door Christensen. Generally, though, he brought the politics of the Galactic Republic down to the simplest and most didactic of terms. Uber-liberal I am, but I wince everytime I hear Anakin declare "You are either with me or against me" and then watch Obi-Wan say unironically "Only the Sith think in absolutes." Yet if ever there was a group that thought in absolutes, it was the Jedi. And if ever there was a director who thought in absolutes, it was George Lucas.

Mr. Moore, the brilliance of your series was that instead of casting Cylons as evil, unthinking, killing machines, you gave them thoughts, feelings, and frighteningly human motivations. You almost made us feel sympathy for a group of genocidal maniacs. Surely you could do the same for the people who eventually joined league with the empire, people who were frustrated with their failed Republic and the cruelty of their day to day lives, to say nothing of all the Senators who eagerly hoped to stake out the winning side. Most people don't turn to evil, because they are in and of themselves naturally evil. Most people are not Palpotine. I want to hear their stories.

So here's what I propose. I don't want a movie. I want a television series that recreates the Star Wars world in all the complexity and ambiguity that it should have. You don't have to recreate Anakin and Padme. Make them occasional side characters, ala Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. Palpotine can appear now and again in the form of a political leader. Ditto with Padme. Anakin...? Well we don't need Anakin. Really, when you get down to it, why would anyone on the streets of Coruscant give a shit who Anakin was? But hey Yoda could be there, and maybe even Mace Windu. But create another new set of characters to focus on. People who would never appear in Star Wars. I'm thinking Rome meets The West Wing meets lightsabers. You get yourselves the two working class folks as main characters, a couple of Senators and politicians, some soldiers or clones, and a couple awesome space battles. You can put this all on (twitch) SyFy. They owe you for life after you made their network relevant with BSG. And hey if you pitch this the right way and give him an executive producer credit and a cut of the profits, George Lucas just might greenlight it. If you could get away with it with making Starbuck a woman, you just might be able to pull this off.

I hope you will consider this, Ron Moore, as a gift to some of sci-fi's most dedicated fans as we watched some good ideas recieve some of the worst treatment ever given to the big screen. Now I am off to watch the miniseries yet again.

Much love,
Frenchman Street Radio

The Lord's Music in a Place of Sin: John Scofield at Tiptina's

Good morning y'all. Apologies to the Skin Horse folks for missing the party. When you don't have a car in a distinctly car-based city, things get complicated. (Curse you auto industry that sapped public transportation!) Still in New Orleans from the time being, which means lots of opportunities to see great music. Annandale-on-Hudson, lovely it may be, doesn't allow for me to just take a cab down to Blue Nile to see Soul Rebels for $10 at the very hot spot that they recorded their newest album, No Place Like Home.



More word on that concert, album, and the brass band experience at a later time. First, John Scofield and the Piety Street Band.



I first mentioned these guys in my Top 9 list, as Piety Street came in at number 7. Quick recap. Scofield is arguably the greatest jazz guitarist around today, or at least a fierce competitor with folks like John McLaughlin and Pat Metheny. The fact that all these guys are in their 50s and 60s is a rather striking statement on the state of jazz today. These guys have routinely been the greatest inventors in the artform, and the younger generation just hasn't quite made a dent in the scene. Has everything that can be said with jazz guitar been said? Sure as hell hope not.



Scofield started his career as one of the last great finds of Miles Davis's band, and very quickly got out to a flourishing solo career. He also collaborated with other greats of the music, including Medeski, Martin, and Wood and Weather Report sax player, Wayne Shorter.



All the while he has kept one of the sweetest and smoothest sounds in jazz music. Not smooth jazz. More like if B.B. King was born 30 years later, and went to Berkelee instead of Chicago.



In recent years, though, Scofield has gotten a bit restless and has branched out a bit more. In 2006, he put together a tribute album to Ray Charles (featuring Dr. John among others on vocals) and in 2008, he came to New Orleans initially to record a blues album. Only to discover "that there were 8 million blues records out there." And really who wants to be responsible for another DWB (Dull White Blues) record. (I'm looking at you Eric Clapton. "Clapton is God, my ass." Ever since he kicked heroin, he's been playing the most boring brand of bar band blues. If he had formed a suicide pact with Grace Slick in 1971 immediately after Derek and the Dominos came out, it would have done both their legacies a lot of good.)



So he turned toward gospel and put a true New Orleans supergroup for the task. Starting with Jon Cleary on piano and lead vocals.



Cleary has had a great career of his own. He's a fixture in the New Orleans club scene along with his band, the Absolute Monster Gentlemen. He currently has a weekly gig at D.B.A. every Thursday on solo piano and I'm hoping to check him out this week. He has also flourished in his day job as piano player for Bonnie Rait.



George Porter Jr. chimes in on bass and as a fellow vocalist. George Porter is one of the true legends of New Orleans funk and jazz, and his star shines almost as brightly as Scofield. He was an ace session player in the city in the 1960s, then came to fame as bassist for the Meters, featuring Art Neville on lead vocals. Since the early 2000s he has been playing and touring nationally with perhaps my favorite jam band, Porter Batiste Stoltz, a band that knows how to jam while keeping the mood lively and funky. (Expect a review of their live album, Higher Ground, someday soon. It's been playing almost nonstop for weeks.)



Drums has been a bit of a rotating position with this band. Shannon Powell and Ricky Fataar both played drums for this band, and are top session musicians. Clarence Higgins played with them at Tipitina's last night.



Also joining them on lead vocals for 3 tracks is one of my absolute favorite singers ever, John Boutte. A beautiful and inspiring singer, Boutte has been a fixture in New Orleans for the past decade, while also playing blues, jazz, gospel, and even country, all with the sort of soul and performative instinct that would stir Sam Cooke from the grave. His presence at Tipitina's was desperately missed. While Cleary brought the house down and is a brilliant pianist (and guitar player apparently, there remain only two singers that have left me feeling weak in the knees in their presence: Boutte and Ray Lamontagne. (That said, his piano playing was jaw dropping.)

This band's resume makes them ideal compliments to Scofield. These are all exceptional solo performers who can take over at a moment's notice, making them wonderful improvisers. Yet they also have long resumes as sidemen so they know how to work in a band when they aren't the stars, creating a solid foundation for Scofield to rip some wonderfully impassioned and brilliant guitar solos. He is all at once the king of the blues with clean, simple runs and the master of frenetic jazz fusion, racing up and down the neck of his guitar or filtering everything through is array of effects processors. Though he is gray haired and balding, he plays with joy and at times reckless abandon. In short, he falls into the Granddads who Rock category. (Fun fact: The Rolling Stones are not Granddads who Rock category. To be in this illustrious group, you have to have made something I would have wanted to listen to in the last 20 years.) I have seen few guitarists who play with his enthusiasm and originality and that includes guitarists at least half his age.

Some highlights of the night? The fast paced march of It's a Big Army (featuring an epic piano solo from Cleary), a breathtaking jam on the funky Never Turn Back, (Though Porter Jr. simply cannot match Boutte in his turn at vocals.) and the encore. Cleary switches to guitar for an epic guitar duel with Scofield on the funky classic I Don't Need No Doctor, which tore the roof off the place. Everyone in Tipitina's wanted these guys to play further into the early morning hours after that one.

My lone complaint is that Tipitina's was not always the ideal place for Scofield's music. It's a club and bar, so there aren't any concert seats. We were all crowded onto the dance floor, and though Scofield kept the pace moving, it's not dance music. Or rather, his audience was not dancers, so we all ended up standing for an hour and a half. On the one hand, the band clearly fed off the energy of the crowd, which by the way, was also hyped up on the Saints victory earlier in the day. And really why not? The Saints stomped the Cardinals to the tune of 45-14. It was sad after a while, but kind of beautiful after awhile to walk through the city and see people across tons of bars and stores united in happiness and celebration. (Further unrelated note: I know that Kurt Warner has had some wild ups and downs, but I hope the NFL Hall of Fame recognizes him as the Hall of Famer that he is. Yes he sucked with the Giants and so far he has only had 4 or 5 great years, but those 4 or 5 great years are among the greatest of all time, 3 of which landed him in the Super Bowl. Those are pretty dizzying heights to go along with a great backstory and good guy creds.)

Right back to the music. One downside to the dynamic of Tipitina's was when the boys tried a ballad, the dark and slow Hank Williams tune, Angel of Death. While many of us were entranced, much of the crowd grew restless and commenced to talking about anything and everything else. That was something they certainly could have done in a venue with seating.

But hey, that pushed the Piety Street Band to play hardier and funkier than they might have otherwise and that counts for something. Gospel in a club of drinkers and sinners never sounded so good.