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!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
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
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
Sunday, January 17, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
The Much Delayed Top 9 Albums of 2009
Greetings from New Orleans after an epic but magnificent 3 day road trip. My friend, Angus, and I trekked from Connecticut to Virginia to Georgia to Louisiana. Angus is now in Fair Hope, Alabama, and all of us at Frenchman Street wish him well.
Been busy doing volunteer work the past few days here in the city of NOLA, as well as research for the project that must not be named. So as a result this blog hasn't been the first thing on my mind. But I'm ready to get started with this pet project by looking back on the year of 2009
I'm going with 9 for purposes of alliteration, and because I'm not entirely sure I have a great top 10. I don't know that I can keep this going when we get to top 51 albums of 2051, but I'm sure by that point albums won't exist anyway, replaced by the robotic hum preferred by our iPod overlords. (The hum will be organized into playlists by Genius.) Either way, we're working with the gimmick for now.
In an attempt to defend myself from people wondering why I didn't include their, let me say that this is by no means a complete list. In fact I've found myself a bit out of the loop this year as far as new music goes, in part because I just wasn't buying as much and in part because the radio station ran into major technical problems. Thank you Manor Ceilings! In fact, I might see if I can update the list in 6 months, perhaps. As we speak I'm discovering some fantastic zydeco from the Dwayne Dopsie and the Zydeco Hellraisers, which might make the list by the end. Either way here's what I have for right now.
Honorable mentions: It's Frightening- White Rabbits, Get Behind the Wheel- Neil Young, Set 'Em Wild, Set 'Em Free- Akron/Family, In Dearland- Elvis Perkins, The Stars Are Out- Sarah Borges and the Broken Singles, Electric Dirt- Levon Helm, Wilco- Wilco
9.) Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane- Elvis Costello
Credit where credit is due to the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame Granddad crowd. They have staying power. Every year, one or two of them delivers a clear winner. Costello led the pack this year that varied from excellent (Levon Helm and Neil Young) to dud (Bruce Springsteen's Working on a Dream). He did it by doing what he normally does, which is confounding everyone's expectations. In this decade alone he has composed ballets, written soft jazz balads, recorded at least two all out rockers, performed his old classics with the Metropole Orkest, and put an album together with the godfather of New Orleans Funk, Allen Toussaint. This year he takes yet another detour, getting back together with T-Bone Burnett for a sequel to his classic 1986 album, King of America.
Burnett has had a bad habit in the last few years of strangling musicians in murky shades that are supposed to dark, but in reality just sound boring as hell. (See: Robert Plant/Alison Kraus's Raising Sand.) Thankfully here (and on B.B. King's One Kind Favor) he takes a step back and just lets his musicians play in a stripped back and laid back atmosphere. Costello strips back to an accoustic set of countrified tunes and just lets loose and has fun, laying out his standard quick wit on a traveling tune, Sulphur to Sugarcane (which can replace "I've Been Everywhere" as your "I've Been everywhere" song) while bouncing around between all sorts of slow dirges and bouncy numbers. Yet another magnificent album from a legend who never seems to slow down.
8.) Dent May and his Magnificent Ukelele
Debut from a former collaborator with Animal Collective. The Ole Miss graduate plays the ukele quite... well... magnificently, but it's really not the big hero on this album. Dent May's vocals really carry the day, effectively playing the part of a young Elvis Costello except smoother and with greater range. The songs are great, too. While the lyrics fall short occasionally, the music never fails to be catchy and pretty. "Meet Me in the Garden" is one of the great pop secrets of the last few years, while "Girls on the Square" and "Oh Paris" sound like great Beach Boys songs except from an ironic indie kid. All in good fun.
7.) Piety Street- John Scofield
Scofield established himself over the '80s and '90s as the greatest jazz guitarist of his generation, but in the last few years he has proven that he can do whatever the hell else he wants, too. After putting forward a solid Ray Charles tribute album, Scofield went to New Orleans to record a blues album. As it turned, everyone and their drummer hits 50 and decides to record a blues album and there's not much territory left to mine. So he started digging through classic gospel songs for this album. He also put together a deep in the pocket band for the session, featuring Jon Cleary (solo albums, Bonnie Rait) on piano and vocals, George Porter Jr. (the Meters) on bass and Shannon Powell on drums. Cleary provides some fantastic vocals on this set, but John Boutte really steals the show on three show stopping numbers, particularly the gospel stomper-and-howler Never Turn Back
Meanwhile, Scofield is at his best. With Porter, he lays down a funky backbeat for many of these songs, while also delivering some honey-sweet B.B. King-style lines. He goes for economy in his playing, stretching each note as long as it can go and never playing more than he needs to.
6.) Feral Harmonic- Old Canes
5.) Modern Times- To Be Continued Brass Band
Make no mistake. The Felice Brothers are a mess. A beautiful, drunken, earthy mess, pulling in blues, punk, country, and one out of control accordion together to make a raw and touching album that deserves to be heard by anyone who is sad that we'll never hear from the Band again. These songs are epics of lost loves, wandering, loneliness, and simply rebelling against the grain. Listen to Run Chicken Run, as these guys refuse to break down or fall into the day to day rhythms of day to day society. "Run Chicken Run... Chickens don't get life after death." On this track, they tear apart their instruments in an absolute fury. I don't think you'll ever hear a country band get so much unadulterated noise from their instruments unless the Who lose like 30 years in age, bring Keith Moon back from the dead, and decide to record a tribute album to the Basement Tapes. To boot, they also bring down for the 6 minute ballad and tribute to of all people Babe Ruth. Is there anything else that more defines Americana? How about naming your album after a Mark Twain line? Now that's America.
I guess the short of it is the Felice Brothers are apple pie for the rest of us. If you think Toby Keith is an epic douche, well maybe you'll like an American band that's a little less clean, a little smarter about the history and feel of this nation, and a hell of a lot more fun. Even better, they are on a creative tear. This is their third album in three years, and one brother has released an album as the Duke and the King.
So that is my list folks. Can't wait to see yours and see whether this one changes in a few months. But for now, it is 1 in the morning and very much time for bed. G'night!
Been busy doing volunteer work the past few days here in the city of NOLA, as well as research for the project that must not be named. So as a result this blog hasn't been the first thing on my mind. But I'm ready to get started with this pet project by looking back on the year of 2009
I'm going with 9 for purposes of alliteration, and because I'm not entirely sure I have a great top 10. I don't know that I can keep this going when we get to top 51 albums of 2051, but I'm sure by that point albums won't exist anyway, replaced by the robotic hum preferred by our iPod overlords. (The hum will be organized into playlists by Genius.) Either way, we're working with the gimmick for now.
In an attempt to defend myself from people wondering why I didn't include their, let me say that this is by no means a complete list. In fact I've found myself a bit out of the loop this year as far as new music goes, in part because I just wasn't buying as much and in part because the radio station ran into major technical problems. Thank you Manor Ceilings! In fact, I might see if I can update the list in 6 months, perhaps. As we speak I'm discovering some fantastic zydeco from the Dwayne Dopsie and the Zydeco Hellraisers, which might make the list by the end. Either way here's what I have for right now.
Honorable mentions: It's Frightening- White Rabbits, Get Behind the Wheel- Neil Young, Set 'Em Wild, Set 'Em Free- Akron/Family, In Dearland- Elvis Perkins, The Stars Are Out- Sarah Borges and the Broken Singles, Electric Dirt- Levon Helm, Wilco- Wilco
9.) Secret, Profane, and Sugarcane- Elvis Costello
Credit where credit is due to the Rock 'n' Roll Hall of Fame Granddad crowd. They have staying power. Every year, one or two of them delivers a clear winner. Costello led the pack this year that varied from excellent (Levon Helm and Neil Young) to dud (Bruce Springsteen's Working on a Dream). He did it by doing what he normally does, which is confounding everyone's expectations. In this decade alone he has composed ballets, written soft jazz balads, recorded at least two all out rockers, performed his old classics with the Metropole Orkest, and put an album together with the godfather of New Orleans Funk, Allen Toussaint. This year he takes yet another detour, getting back together with T-Bone Burnett for a sequel to his classic 1986 album, King of America.
Burnett has had a bad habit in the last few years of strangling musicians in murky shades that are supposed to dark, but in reality just sound boring as hell. (See: Robert Plant/Alison Kraus's Raising Sand.) Thankfully here (and on B.B. King's One Kind Favor) he takes a step back and just lets his musicians play in a stripped back and laid back atmosphere. Costello strips back to an accoustic set of countrified tunes and just lets loose and has fun, laying out his standard quick wit on a traveling tune, Sulphur to Sugarcane (which can replace "I've Been Everywhere" as your "I've Been everywhere" song) while bouncing around between all sorts of slow dirges and bouncy numbers. Yet another magnificent album from a legend who never seems to slow down.
8.) Dent May and his Magnificent Ukelele
Debut from a former collaborator with Animal Collective. The Ole Miss graduate plays the ukele quite... well... magnificently, but it's really not the big hero on this album. Dent May's vocals really carry the day, effectively playing the part of a young Elvis Costello except smoother and with greater range. The songs are great, too. While the lyrics fall short occasionally, the music never fails to be catchy and pretty. "Meet Me in the Garden" is one of the great pop secrets of the last few years, while "Girls on the Square" and "Oh Paris" sound like great Beach Boys songs except from an ironic indie kid. All in good fun.
7.) Piety Street- John Scofield
Scofield established himself over the '80s and '90s as the greatest jazz guitarist of his generation, but in the last few years he has proven that he can do whatever the hell else he wants, too. After putting forward a solid Ray Charles tribute album, Scofield went to New Orleans to record a blues album. As it turned, everyone and their drummer hits 50 and decides to record a blues album and there's not much territory left to mine. So he started digging through classic gospel songs for this album. He also put together a deep in the pocket band for the session, featuring Jon Cleary (solo albums, Bonnie Rait) on piano and vocals, George Porter Jr. (the Meters) on bass and Shannon Powell on drums. Cleary provides some fantastic vocals on this set, but John Boutte really steals the show on three show stopping numbers, particularly the gospel stomper-and-howler Never Turn Back
Meanwhile, Scofield is at his best. With Porter, he lays down a funky backbeat for many of these songs, while also delivering some honey-sweet B.B. King-style lines. He goes for economy in his playing, stretching each note as long as it can go and never playing more than he needs to.
6.) Feral Harmonic- Old Canes
First album in 5 years from a side project of the lead singer of Appleseed Cast. Chris Crisci and his ragtag crew of accoustic players, drummers, children's toys and slightly dissonant horn players are back again with another lo-fi indie folk classic.
For those of you not familiar with their first album, Early Morning Hymns, Old Canes take up the chaotic fuzz folk mantle of a band like Neutral Milk Hotel, except without Jeff Mangum's nasal whine. (Don't get me wrong. I dig Neutral Milk Hotel, but have never been able to fully get behind them as geniuses of our generation. At this point they fall into the stereotype of stuff that white people like instead of anything particularly unique and exciting. )
Now that I've alienated everyone that might have read this blog, moving on. Early Morning Hymns was a lo-fi masterpiece, a laid back piece of accoustic gold. Crisci's vocals are a little bit warbled, which is more or less the way he likes it, but the tunes get into your head and simply will not leave. (Dig up "Both Falling Bright" and tell me that's not beautiful.) Feral Harmonic is a worthy sequel, chalking up great ballads in Southern Radio and a foot stomping opener in Little Bird Courage featuring one of the most genuinely touching refrains I've heard in some time. ("When I'm thirsty, you are the fountain. In the face of danger, I am not afraid.") The highlight, though is probably the epic "Sweet", a piece of heavily distorted gold. A frenetic riff opens it up, takes you higher and higher as Crisci's voice both calms and distorts, then collapses in a coda of crashing drums and mandolin.
The contrasting heavy and soft sounds of this album make it a true treasure to listen to.
5.) Modern Times- To Be Continued Brass Band
Best new brass band on the decade, or at the very least tied with the New Orleans Nightcrawlers (more on that when I review their new album (more on that when I get their new album)). Unlike ultimate party band Soul Rebels, TBC has figured out how to make a magnificent brass band album, thanks to a fantastically large production that gives the album the feel of a large but empty club, giving the album a great live in the studio feel. TBC is also huge, a rotating cast of 10 horns who belt funky original tunes like Ray Nagin and Blame it on the Booze loudly and proudly , while also contributing classics from the Isley Brothers (the chaotic I Want You) and the Meters (Hey Pocky Way). More than that, they are always having fun. Whereas Soul Rebels (and early Dirty Dozen Brass Band) feel like they are trying too hard in the studio, TBC keep it loose. A great road trip album.
TBC also has a great story. They formed out of high school and immediately began performing in the streets of New Orleans, making connections with the Roots and on the verge of getting a recording deal. Then, the levees burst and the members of TBC were exiled to various parts of the south. After several years they returned to the city and started their daily gig on the corner of Canal Street and Bourbon Street playing brass band music on the streets for tourists of the French Quarter. Their story and the sponsorship by the Roots earned them a documentary in 2009 called From the Mouthpiece on Back, produced by the Roots and narrated by Kerrey Washington. Expect a review in this blog as soon as I can find a copy of it.
I'm sadly missing out on a chance to see them here in New Orleans due to lack of a car and willing fellow travelers. Next time! Mark my words!
While the Shins take their sweet time slogging through the making of their new album and Of Montreal and Apples in Stereo are off doing whatever-the-fresh-hell, Fruit Bats takes advantage of the opening in the market to deliver a fresh batch of ironic, irrestibly catchy Beach Boys-knockoff indie pop. Fruit Bats, though, seems to have struck a good balance in their latest album and first in four years, The Ruminant Band. Unlike the Shins and Of Montreal, these guys seem to actually be having fun with what they do, while never hitting the almost excessive happiness of Apples in Stereo.
Have to say, though: Says a lot that they got this far on the list in 2009. In 2007 they would never have seen sight of the top 10 especially with the other three indie popsters in the running. But credit where it is due. Fruit Bats have quite a charming piece of musical candy here. They kick off the album with the laid back Primitive Man, reminiscent of early-'70s Fleetwood Mac, get a little funky on the title track, and go power pop for the joyous salute to cold weather, Tegucigalpa.
We'll see where Fruit Bats go from here. They've always been a band hiding under the surface of the indie scene (if we can really call the indie scene "indie" anymore), and in a quiet year for other bands, they just might just hit the big time with this one. If the Shins can hit #2 on Billboard anything is possible.
So I avoided obvious choices until now. Proud of me? No? Still reeling that Animal Collective is not here. Roll with it!
Can anyone believe Pearl Jam is still around? Grunge has come and gone, post-grunge has come and gone, and there they are. They are finely aged wine or that slice of pizza tucked away in the mini fridge that you find the day you are supposed to move out of your dorm and you can sort of remember getting drunk and ordering that pizza six weeks ago and you know you shouldn't eat it but you know you're not going to get anything to eat for the next 3 hours and.... MMMM that's good refrigerated, should be stale, pizza.
Too much?
All that aside, Ten just got remastered. Pearl Jam is getting their albums remastered. That doesn't happen to '90s bands. That happens to Dylan or the Beatles or the top hits of 1965 compilations. It's wild that Pearl Jam has become classic rock.
Still as they set out to take up the mantle of Ultimate Rock Survivors, Eddie Vedder and co continue to make great music. They continue the straightforward rock formula of 2006's self titled album, but this time it's even more stripped back. Brendan O'Brien (producer of Bruce Springsteen, Wallflowers) goes for neither a clean sheen production or the muddy epic productions of the last few Springsteen albums and just lets the group play raw and simple music. The opener is clear Sex Pistols, while The Fixer is their best single since the early '90s. Their ballads are also impressive, stripped to Vedder's still penetrating vocals and spare instrumentation. Just Breathe is punctuated by accoustic guitar and a few violins, but at its core is a simple but beautiful love ballad while The End recalls Nick Drake of all people in its hurt and primitive beauty.
Overall, Pearl Jam continue to prove that they were never just a grunge band and have continued to age gracefully pushing into a new decade where they will be hosting JazzFest and touring the country behind one of their best albums, one that proves definitively that angst hasn't changed much since the early 1990s but still makes great music.
Samantha Crain has been one of the best kept secrets of the music industry this past year. I've heard nothing about her except a CD in the Bard radio station. If you ask me, though, she is Boston's Lucinda Williams: she has the right combination of a haunting voice, a funky accent, great backing bands, and slightly countrified angst that doesn't revolve around drinking, boys (well... not in any straightforward way), and trucks.
Crain has a fun backstory, an autobiography laid out in my favorite song of this year, Devils in Boston. She was born in Oklahoma farm country, and at some point along the way decided she was going to be a musician and bolted for Boston, Mass. After years of playing clubs and learning to write songs, she got a deal for herself and the Midnight Shivers, which led to this album.
A slight twist on the conventional American narrative. She ends up in Boston, not NYC. And her music is hardly the stuff of a future pop songstress/former farmer's daughter. Crain's lyrics are smart, tortured, and defiant. Long Division is filled with vivid imagery and characters, who contemplate their place in the world, whether they come "from above" or "from below" calling to men of wisdom, love, reason, and others for answers. The title track and "Rising Sun" alternate between hopeful choruses and sad verses in a great and fulfilling way.
Finally, there's Devils in Boston, a song that kicks the door open with a tense minor riff as Crane tells her story. Eventually she pulls in the whole band with a harmonica note that is downright creepy. The whole song is epic. To put it this way, if you were to write a song about selling your soul to the devil, you would wish you had written this song. I'm even willing to make it one of the great songs of the decade.
Pay attention to Samantha Crain over the next few years. I easily see her bubbling up into the mainstream, so long as no one tries to smooth out her weird voice and tighten her magnificent band. (Word is she is breaking up the Midnight Shivers. I hope this isn't true, because they work wonderfully behind her.) She still doesn't hold a candle though to our number 1 album this year.
1.) Yonder is the Clock- Felice BrothersMake no mistake. The Felice Brothers are a mess. A beautiful, drunken, earthy mess, pulling in blues, punk, country, and one out of control accordion together to make a raw and touching album that deserves to be heard by anyone who is sad that we'll never hear from the Band again. These songs are epics of lost loves, wandering, loneliness, and simply rebelling against the grain. Listen to Run Chicken Run, as these guys refuse to break down or fall into the day to day rhythms of day to day society. "Run Chicken Run... Chickens don't get life after death." On this track, they tear apart their instruments in an absolute fury. I don't think you'll ever hear a country band get so much unadulterated noise from their instruments unless the Who lose like 30 years in age, bring Keith Moon back from the dead, and decide to record a tribute album to the Basement Tapes. To boot, they also bring down for the 6 minute ballad and tribute to of all people Babe Ruth. Is there anything else that more defines Americana? How about naming your album after a Mark Twain line? Now that's America.
I guess the short of it is the Felice Brothers are apple pie for the rest of us. If you think Toby Keith is an epic douche, well maybe you'll like an American band that's a little less clean, a little smarter about the history and feel of this nation, and a hell of a lot more fun. Even better, they are on a creative tear. This is their third album in three years, and one brother has released an album as the Duke and the King.
So that is my list folks. Can't wait to see yours and see whether this one changes in a few months. But for now, it is 1 in the morning and very much time for bed. G'night!
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