Category: Field Recordings of the Future

Eric and Amy lived in France before settling in the Hudson Valley so we expected Amy Rigby to address the Paris terrorist attacts in her show last night in our neighbors’ living room. She opened with an aptly vulnerable version of Jackie DeShannon’s “Put A Little Love In Your Heart.” Peggi and I had front row seats, reserved for us because earlier in the day I had helped Rick move the fifty some chairs from his basement to their living room. Amy’s guitar pickup went directly to the board and she stood in front of us between the two PA speakers that served as monitors and sound system with only three pedals on the floor in front of her and no amp. We had a bird’s eye view when her foot missed the Sioux distortion pedal.

She had just returned from her hometown of Pittsburgh and did a song dedicated to the dead end possibilities of that place next and then something about growing a pair of balls and then a Nashville-bound gem with the manly lyric, “I hate every bone in her body but mine.” The brilliant “Keep it to Yourself” after that then the anthem, “Do You Remember That?” to close out the first set.

Peggi and I manned the merch booth, a white enamel-topped table in Rick and Monica’s kitchen that reminded me of Pete and Shelley’s table (shown above). We only knew a few people at this house concert. One guy came up to us and said, “Hi, I’m Chris.” Peggi said it reminded her of a church gathering but we managed to sell a few cds.

Amy started the second set with a song where she gives the drummer some but she preceded it with a string of hilarious drummer jokes, most of which I had heard from Brad Fox over the years. And then “Are We Ever Gonna Have Sex Again?” She is lyrical and musical and funny and sweet. A song about her daughter, (You’re Perfect) “Don’t Ever Change,” makes me cry every time I hear it. A singer/songwriter who writes about dancing with Joey Ramone and finishes the night with a Flaming Groovies song. I guess that is why she really gets to me. She has a rock and roll heart.

Most Wednesday nights Steve Piper can be seen drawing in one of the front tables for Margaret Explosion’s Little Theater gig. He may have picked this habit up from his bandmate, Scott Regan, who rarely goes anywhere without a sketchbook. Or he may simply be responding to Frank DeBlase’s City Newspaper review of the band. “Their esoteric wonder paints pictures in my head nonstop.”

Steve’s drawings are expressive and border on abstraction. Scott’s are representational and quite incisive. Frank’s observation is especially fluid and inspiring. Certainly that is what an instrumental, improvisational band tries to do.

Our neighbors, Rick and Monica, have had quite a few house concerts over the years. We’ve been to a few but the singer/songwriter scene is not really our thing. I was playing horseshoes with Rick and he mentioned that there were still some seats left for Saturday’s show with Amy Rigby. She has played Rochester many times with her hubby, Eric, but this one is a solo show. “Still some seats left?” My graphic art instincts took over.

I grabbed a photo of Amy off the web and made a kick-ass poster to get the word out. I fired off a copy to Rick and one to Amy. Not sure if Rick did anything with it but he said he “loved it.” Amy hoped people wouldn’t show up wondering where the woman in the poster was. I am just a fan so I don’t have to be concerned with this nonsense. I’m pretending Saturday’s event is a rock n’ roll show without the racket. Here’s the real Amy.

The title of Philip Glass’s “Hydrogen Jukebox,” came from a verse in Allen Ginsburg’s “Howl.” Glass and Ginsburg picked eighteen of Ginsburg’s poems as the libretto for the 1990 chamber opera and the Eastman Opera Theater performed the piece four times this weekend with two different casts. Ginsburg read his work at the formative performances and Glass is quoted as saying he tried to respect the music that was already in the delivery of the words when he wrote the score for the trained voices. It is remarkable how well the sometimes bombastic verse fits the pulsating music.

With no traditional story the decline of the American empire, war and pacifism served as the theme. The church-like set with sacrificial table, fire pit, flags with corporate logos and roulette wheel centerpiece with stops at all the countries we have declared war on was a comfortable environment for the six actors/singers/dancers. The soft beginning beautiful ending piece eased us in and out of some heady, turbulent times very much like our own.

The empty chairs on our deck await the imminent arrival of Pete and Shelley. Fall has peaked and moved on in the mountains so they will get another crack at it here. Pete LaBonne will be playing the grand piano with Margaret Explosion tonight at the Little Theater Café. We look forward to the chaos that ensues.

My sister, Ann, told us about a box of old photos that she found in my parent’s kitchen cupboard. I borrowed it for a night and scanned some gems like the one above. I’m guessing that’s my brothers Mark, John and Tim gathered around me and we’re probably at Charlotte Beach some time in the 1950s.

Anne Havens stopped by with her fiddle, it’s really a European violin that Colleen Buzzard gave to her, and we played a few songs in our living room. I played my djembe and Peggi played sax and the combination of sax and fiddle sounded to me like an accordion. I really loved the combination. Anne favors major key we go minor. Her repertoire is grounded in a long tradition of American folk but we played with abandon.

When we were finished I took a photo of the set list in her case. Streets of Laredo, Bury Me Not On The Lone Prairie, Wayfaring Stranger, Out Of Bondage, Higher Ground, Down In The Valley, Tennessee Waltz and Faded Love. I can see why some bands skip the the whole creative trip. The book has been written.

The 2015 Jazz Fest is still a few weeks off and we can only hope that we’ll see and hear something as good as the William Parker quartet at the Bop Shop tonight. They had just played in the relatively nearby cities, Pittsburg, Erie, Detroit and Toronto, and were returning to New York via Rochester. Their performance in the store was rather like musical chairs, the drummer, Federico Ughi, excluded. Daniel Carter played three saxes, clarinet, flute, trumpet and piano. Watson Jennison played piano, soprano sax, flute and recorder. He is a painter as well. And Parker played a rather small upright bass, tuba, a deep wooden flute and another small horn. Now close your eyes and imagine them playing all those instruments in one hour-long song.

When they came up for air William Parker told a long joke about guy named Skippy who knew everybody, Robert DiNiro, President Obama and the pope. The joke, as he told it, had no real punchline but it sure cleared the air. From there they played a beautiful folk-like melody. Danial Carter played clarinet, Watson a recorder, the drummer played the toms with mallets and Parker played a large wooden flute and sang these lyrics.

“Death has died today
God is in here
And the devil wears a big ol’ grin”

We went to “The Human Touch” opening on the later side in order to still be downtown when Nod took the stage at Abilene around midnight. The Memorial Art Gallery’s new show features part of the collection of RCB Wealth Management, whatever that is. Their website says “The Human Touch reflects the rich diversity of our clients, employees and the people who make up our everyday lives.” And that it does, but the effort to be diverse became the show rather than the selection of art. I only went to their website after seeing the show so now I’m wondering. Did the diversity effort look so obvious on the wall because all other shows are so insular? I don’t know. I only hoped to see some good art and I did see some.

Robert Longo, Chuck Close, Elizabeth Peyton, Nan Goldin, Kehinde Wiley, Carrie Mae Weems, John Baldesari were all represented but I was more intrigued by Willie Birch’s black and white acrylic and charcoal on paper drawing of two women, Till Freiwald’s large watercolor on paper studies of a live model for even larger (8 feet tall watercolors) and Luis Gispert’s giant, Spanish tinged, animated photo, “Living Room” from his Urban Myths series.

Nod was fantastic, more energetic than ever in their twenty-fifth year. They are the perfect trio. Each part is internal to their sound. Joe’s guitar playing is unique as hell, one of a kind. And although you can hardly ever hear what he is singing you can always hear the sweetness the melody he adds to his angular guitar playing. Tim Poland is a really melodic bass player and he propels the band with his lines while keeping the train on he tracks. Brian is rock solid on drums, never ruffled by Joe’s adventurous turns, he can fill up a song with fills without getting in the way. Nod’s sound gets under you skin and goes to your whole body. If no one breaks the ice you are left dancing in your head.

Took a tour of the earth this afternoon, up through the arboretum and fruticetum in the park where everything is popping, and I came back with this picture. We plan to celebrate Earth Day later on at the Little Theatre Café. Pete LaBonne will be joining Margaret Explosion on the grand piano. If you’re not familiar with Pete’s work there is no better place to start than Chris Schepp’s review of Pete’s 20 cd compilation, “Gigunda.”

The Bop Shop used to host a musty old record show twice a year in the Village Gate atrium. The clientele got older and older and consequently dwindled as record sales plummeted. The Chesterfield Kings drummer, the first and best one, was always there. He passed away years ago and the Bop Shop was unveiling his collection yesterday on Record Store Day. We never made it over there. Those record fairs were fun for a while but they were pretty depressing on a nice day. Everything is different now. I have never seen more people at Record Archive. They even stationed Frank DeBlase at the door for some added muscle.

We didn’t get going until after noon so I missed the Captain Beefheart vinyl, “Rough, Raw & Amazing,” the House of Guitars was allowed. And I never saw the Bernard Herrmann, “Psycho” 7-inch. I found the Beefheart package at Archive but hesitated when I read the Joh Peel’s liner notes… “Although it takes intense listening in the early part of of the show owing to the recording quality …” It sounds like the microphone was in someone’s pocket while he was standing outside De Montfort Hall in Leicester while the Magic Band played inside. Songs are mislabeled. Beefheart’s pictured on the cover paying sax and plays it on four cuts yet he is only credited with sax and vocals but I’m still happy with my purchase.

I saw Beefheart on four different tours, in Cincinnati (with the Hampton Grease Band and the Screamin’ Gypsy Bandits) on the Trout Mask tour, Columbus, Ohio on the ‘Decals” tour, the Dome Area here in Rochester when he did that bone-headed project with Zappa and then at the Red Creek in 1977. I brought my little mono cassette recorder to Red Creek and placed it on the table in front of Brad Fox (listen for him). My recording (below) is infinitely better than the 180 gram yellow vinyl, gatefold, double lp. As they say. “For diehard fans only.”

One hundred and fifty years ago a train carrying Lincoln’s body stopped in Rochester on its way to his final resting place in Illinois. Thousands of mourners gathered at the train station to pay their respects. In our age of Clinton and Bush dynasties and ObamaHate the very idea of the presidency has changed. I’m thinking about a train rolling into town with Claire Underwood’s body on it.

The husband and wife team responsible for the House of Cards soundtrack met at the Eastman School of Music in Rochester and they are back in town for a free concert of film music on Sunday night at Kodak Hall. They promise a half hour suite of House of Cards themes. He also scored Ed Harris’s dramatic creation/painting scenes in the “Pollock” movie. Jeff Beal’s brilliant theme, used behind the open credits, just sweeps you away with its dramatic subwoofer percussion and dark foreboding melody.

We made sure we had seats down front for Stephan Crump when he played with Vjay Iyer at Kilburn last year. We had heard him with his Rosetta Trio at the Bop Shop and were blown away. He is an amazing bass player. Incredibly sensitive, melodic and solid. He would sound great with anyone. As you can see in this picture he plays every inch of his instrument. In this duo setting, a project called “Secret Keepers,” he and Mary Halverson would start and finish each other’s phrases, odd phrases in odd songs because Mary Halverson is a most unusual guitar player. Seated and working one pedal with each foot she would clip and chew on notes as she picked them. She says her influences are horn players, Eric Dolphy, John Coltrane and Miles Davis, artists she first heard on her dad’s records. This was something else.