Category: Field Recordings of the Future

Kind of strange cheering for the US as they lost but advanced.

The two tone building here is right next to the former Midtown Plaza. There was a building adjacent to the great wall that is long gone, a nightclub called the Rathskeller, I think. Bands played there and you used to have go down some steps to enter. Long gone like most of the city core, but coming back. Jazz Fest provides some interesting urban vistas.

High Tech Rochester’s plan to put twenty million into a Business Accelerator Cooperative downtown is the best news I’ve read about downtown in bit.

I’m keeping note on the jazz fest over here.

A lot of people are afraid to sit in the front row. If it was a Suicide or a Contortions show I would be afraid too. They used to scare me but I loved it. We took seats in the front row of Xerox Auditorium for the Belgium big band, Flat Earth Society,
and tried to guess how many members would be in the band. The stage was full of equipment and music stands. We guessed ten and it turned out to be 14. The drums and bass were front and center flanked by guitar and keyboards and the horn section ran all across the back. FES is a wackier, more rambunctious Willem Breuker Kollektief. Never mind the movie. This is vivid, action-packed, cinematic, soundtrack music. They introduced a song called, “Broadway Boogie Woogie,” saying (with a Belgium accent) “We play the painting.”

Shai Maestro Trio was highly recommended to us by a couple that we only see at Jazz Fest each year. The band was at the Rochester Club at 10 but we couldn’t hang in there so we came home and listened to Shai Maestro on YouTube. We should have gone. Tonight we have a legit excuse for missing out on the early end of Jazz Fest. USA/Portugal. I’m keeping track of the Jazz Fest over here.

We hadn’t quite finished this morning’s paper when Alice and Julio called from a nearby Best Western hotel. They were back in town from Maine to see a play and visit old friends. Hours flew by as the talk veered back and forth between art and Spain. And then back to the paper.

A review in the Art and Leisure section of the Danny Fox Trio caught my eye, a reference to chamber jazz and Duke Ellington, so I called up a sample on my iPad. The front page of their website said they were playing on the 18th at the Bop Shop so I checked the date. It was today and they were to start in ten minutes. We hopped in the car.

Turns out the drummer is from Brighton so it was one of the best crowds I’d seen at the record shop. I sat up on a counter. The piano player writes beautiful tunes with plenty of room in the arrangements for the bass player and drummer to bring them to life. They were a joy to listen to.

We talked to the piano player after the gig and he told us that for fun he used to write fake reviews of the band in the critic, Ben Ratliff’s, style. And guess who reviewed his band today?

My parent’s realtor recommended the Bethel Church as someone who could take the remainders from last weekends’ garage sale so I called Pastor Jack and arranged to meet him at my parent’s old house this afternoon. He was going to round up a crew but that must not have worked out. The crew consisted of his wife so in three hours we were able to fill his truck and flatbed trailer with remainders. I have no idea what the church does with all this stuff but they will take almost anything. I’m meeting them there tomorrow morning for a second load. Praise the lord.

Stephan Crump, bass player with Rochester native, Vijay Iyer’s Trio, brought his hard-grooving all-string Rosetta Trio to the Bop Shop tonight. Featuring guitarists Liberty Ellman and Jamie Fox the trio leaves plenty of space for the bass maestro while the guitarists work their magic. This was close your eyes and get transported stuff, achingly beautiful, melodic and rhythmic as hell. Crump knocked us out with a pretty number called “He Runs Circles” from his new cd which was inspired by his four year old’s pre verbal method of showing affection.

We were working on our 6×6 contributions last night while listening to Wednesday’s Margaret Explosion recording. The last song was moody, of course, but it ended like a daydream does. You’re left thinking, “Now, where was I?” I usually jot dow a short description before filing it away and I couldn’t even remember what I heard.

It was the perfect time to take a break so we headed downtown to catch the second set of Watkins and the Rapiers. They were in particularily fine form. Tom sang a rather dark song about the beast inside, Steve led a number that was more musically adventurous than anything I had seen them do before, Marty provided exactly the right propulsion for an NRBQ flavored romp about Kodak.

The Rapiers are full of surprises. I have never associated them with soul music but Scott sang lead on a beautiful version of “Midnight Train to Georgia.” Kerry tailored the lyrics of his “Mingle, Mingle, Mingle” song to Gary Pudup who was seated along the wall and has just announced his candidacy for the 134th Assembly District.

I don’t know how I came up with the idea to have a party celebrating the 45, it seems to have just popped into my head as the date closed in on us. We rounded up some friends and invited them to bring 45s if they liked on the evening of April 5 (4.5).

Peggi and I brought up a stack up from the basement, the ones we each had in our youth so there are many duplicates, the cover sleeves long gone and Peggi’s name written on the label. Some even have a small white sticker that reads, “This record belongs to Peggi Fournier.” I also brought up a box of seventies and eighties singles, most with picture sleeves.

Peggi hung a few with ribbons from our overhead light put some on the wall above the fireplace. I left the stack without sleeves on the kitchen counter like party favors and I played requests all night although I dodged calls for the Beatles. Martha brought a pink 45 case with at least a hundred records on a spindle. It looked like a Barbie accessory but the bottom fell out on the way out the door.

Spinning 45s is high maintainence but I loved it. Keeping track of whose 45 was whose was another matter. I wound up with Cheryl’s copy The Music Explosion’s “Little Bit O’ Soul,” Brian’s copy of the Part Nuggets’ “I Mow The Lawn,” Heather’s “Hitchin’ A Ride” by Vanity Fair and Jeff’s Dad’s copy of a tango 45.

Rock and roll is dying. The process is so slow it only looks like “never.” Decay has been part of the art form for ages. Monty’s Crown on Monroe Avenue is an ideal host for the long funeral, darts, long bar, a dozen beers on tap, a back room with a PA for the band and a pool table stage left. Green shamrocks with the word “Blue” on them were carefully arranged by a beer rep in the front window. All this with two bands on the bill for a three dollar cover. That price hasn’t budged in thirty years.

Dave Anderson was there, Chris from the Squires, Joe Tunis from Carbon, Chris Schepp and Ted Williams of course. Hook Face and Nod were brilliant. Long live rock ‘n roll.