Coke vs. Pepsi ~ that sort of thing.
How the World Sounds
I stopped in to see our neighbor, Leo and found him going through a pile of boxes. He was looking for his crock to make sauerkraut and he looked up at me and said, “Look at this mess. A good fire would solve all my problems”.
I am determined to straighten our garage out this summer. It’s been a dumping ground since we moved in here. I found a few boxes of 8-tracks. I would love to get rid of them before I have a fire.
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I do most of my clothes shopping at AJ Wright’s in Culver Ridge Plaza. I stopped in for a new pair of shorts and picked out a plaid, Phat Farm pair for ten bucks. Up at the checkout the lady in front of me was complaining to the cashier about the amount of merchandise on the floor, literally on the floor. The cashier explained that they don’t have enough employees to keep the place up. While they talked I took this shot of the reduced table.
We played an art opening at RIT over the weekend and during the break a guy came up to me and introduced himself as an old neighbor. I was his paperboy and when I was a little older I babysat for his daughter. His daughter was there too with her husband. They had all just arrived and had not heard us play yet. The daughter’s husband looked at Peggi’s soprano sax and asked, “So do you play the kind of music you snuggle up with?” He winked while asking this. I said, “No, it’s more like the kind of music you drive off the road to.”
After the gig we drove out to Jeff and Mary Kaye’s place to help them with their stereo. They were going to have a pizza party the next night and they wanted to hook their computer up to the stereo so people could dance. Driving along the river on the way home we found a station playing Donovan’s “Catch The Wind” and the dj followed that up with “Wild Is The Wind”. Talk about “driving off the road” music! We were thinking it was Antony singing it but it turned to be Nina Simone. Guess it’s pretty clear where he got his thing from. We were so taken by this song that we found ourselves in the lane for 590 South to Corning. I had to swerve at the last minute to point the car toward Rochester.
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Our friend, John Gilmore, won a pair of tickets to the Further show at Highland Bowl. He was the ninth caller to Scott Regan’s WRUR morning show. He already had tickets so he gave them to us and encouraged us to go. He was there early enough to hear the sound check and stake out the perfect spot for his chair. We got there just before the show and wandering around looking for him for whole first set. The Bowl was packed, wall to wall tie dye, and if that was Frederick Douglas instead of a statue of him looking out over the crowd he would be stunned at what post emancipation looks like. We watched a guy pass out as he walked. He fell over a group of people who were sitting on a blanket spilling a woman’s beer. She jumped up and said, “That beer cost me seven dollars.”
The band opened with Buddy Holly’s “Not Fade Away.” We had just seen a “Not Fade Away” t-shirt and another one that said, “Wish You Were Beer.” The smell of pot filled the air, not the old fashioned scent but pungent, skunky stuff. The band was playing Traffic’s “Feelin’ Alright” when a group of kids in front of us asked if we had seen a bone bowl. I could barely hear with my earplugs in and said, “What?” “A small bone bowl pipe. I just had it a second ago.” The band sounds like the Dead on steroids doing athletic versions of their classics and crazy covers like “Strawberry Fields” and Pink Floyd’s “Time”. The sound was fantastic. The intermission music was all James Brown.
Phil Lesh and Bob Weir’s band includes a guitar player from a Dead cover band who sounds like Garcia when he sings and sort of sounds like him when he plays and a piano/organist who is the musical foundation. They do an admirable job of carrying on the Dead legacy. I’m glad we were beer.
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Anne Havens hired us to record her sound sculpture installation piece called “Grace” and I can’t think of a better job. The work will be part of the upcoming MAG Biennial. Anne filmed it when it was shown at the Hungerford building but the mic on the video camera picked up a hum from the the fan that moves air on the hundred or so spoons that hang from pieces of string. It also picked up noise from the railroad yard out behind the building. We brought our mics over to her apartment today and we plan to drop a new soundtrack on her video.
Anne is such an inspiration. She surounds herself with art and treats everything she does as an art project. She has just returned from Florida with thirty or so new paintings based on Milton. Why Milton? It has something to do with happenstance.
I’m behind on the World Cup and my work but I’m keeping track of the Jazz Fest here.
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Every Jazz Fest we stumble on one one act that is so good we see both the first and second show. Dave Liebman Quartet and Blake Tartare were both in that category a few years ago. This year it was Francois Bourassa Quartet from Canada. Three quarters of the band have been playing together for twelve years it shows as they complete each others thoughts and delicately support one another as they solo. The wild card here is the young Philippe Melanson on drums. Like a Warhol Factory star you can’t take your eyes off him and he plays in a completely unique way so you can’t help but tune in.
I’ve been keeping track of some of the Jazz Fest here.
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Chuchito Valdes, the son and grandson of famous Cuban bandleaders, opened at Montage with a rousing Cuban number that came on like a tropical storm and brought the crowd to their feet. This guy is sensational! His piano playing is every bit as powerful as the powerful drummer who was sitting on the other side of the stage from him. And then it was as delicate as can be on a beautiful rendition of “Over The Rainbow.” It’s kinda creepy when someone makes everyone every other band at the festival sound like a toy band.
Charnette Moffett was named after his father, Charles, and Ornette Coleman, who Charles played with. Charles plays drums on the fabulous “Golden Cirle” albums from the mid sixties and Charnette plays bass on two of my favorite Onette cds, the two “Sound Museum” releases. We had to check him out and we were richly rewarded. Although billed as a trio he opened with a mindblowing solo performance on stand up bass. He switched to the electric bass after a half hour or so and was joined by a woman on tambura for a beautiful version of “Nature Boy”. A drummer joined next on tablas and drum kit and then a piano player and a trumpeter. They proceeded to take it out! During there last song an alarm went off and kept going off at regular intervals every twenty seconds. Charnette stopped the band started playing with the siren, wrapping melodies around the mournful siren.
I’ve been keeping track of some of the Jazz Fest here.
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I probably take a picture of the Rochester Gas & Electric (there’s a monopoly for you) power plant every year during the annual Jazz Fest. I put my three year old, pocket, point & shoot in “Scene, Night Portrait” mode, set the timer and placed it on the curb.
We rode downtown with John Gilmore and were almost there when I realized I had left my Jazz Pass in our car so I wouldn’t forget it. Peggi had listened to the sound samples and had a club hopping route sketched out but this wrinkle rearranged the evening for us. We started with Katherine Russell and then ran into Rick and Monica in the newly carpeted tent. They highly recommended the Scottish sax quartet at Christ Church so we left and walked in the rain stood in back of the church while they played their opening number. The church was packed but I hatched a plan for a seat. I figured someone would hate them and walk out when the song finished. We planned to walk right down the center isle and grab the seats of whoever left. We kept walking toward the alter and no one left. We got to the front row (or pew) and a couple got up. Best seats in the house and the saxes sounded fantastic with the cathedral ambiance.
I’m keeping track of the Jazz Fest here.
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I got in to see my doctor on a day’s notice so that he could take a look at a tick bite that I have on my leg. I spotted the tick as I was getting ready for bed and suspect I picked it up when we walked in the woods that morning. I crushed it as I tried pulling it off and then dug the rest of it out with some tweezers. My doctor said there has not been a case of Lyme disease in Monroe County so he said keep an eye on it and if it acts up he will prescribe antibiotics. There is a lot of worrisome tick bite info online.
Went straight to the Jazz Fest from the doctor’s and started with Billy’s Band, a loungey, Russian Tom Waits-like combo. Worked our way over to the Xerox Auditorium to hear the Lynne Arriale Trio. She plays like Keith Jarrett, lyrical and relaxed and the band listens deeply while backing her.
Most fun of the night was out on Gibbs Street. There were too many people to hear the band so we hung out in the back by the merchandise booths. We got in line for a Downbeat photo session and a woman in front of me asked if she had just butted in line. I said I think so but that’s ok.” Turned out to be Dave Mahoney’s high school flame and a couple of other rockin’ women that I went to high school with. I grabbed a bootleg copy of their photo (above).
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Does the Great Blue Heron sound anything like a vuvuzela? Not really but I’m trying to make sense of this collision of coincidence. Rich sent us a photo of a Heron in Sausalito and we just spent some time watching one practice tai chi in Eastman Lake. The World Cup and the Rochester Jazz Fest both start today! I’m a little worried about how we’re going to keep up with our work in the next few weeks.
Maybe it is just the sort of distraction we need to wean us from obsessive Jazz Festival devotion. The organizers added a new venue, a tent in parking lot at Abilene. We were excited about hearing jazz over there but then found out all those acts are Americana, a categorization that bothers me. And the success of the last eight years seems to have only diluted the presence of American jazz. Still no Ornette, Pharoah, Joe McPhee, McCoy Tyner, Art Ensemble but Bernie Williams is here. We have the Club Pass and we’ll wander and we always find some cool stuff so I’m optimistic. Pay no attention to me.
1 CommentSomeone named Mike Weber took video at the annual Bob Dylan Birthday Bash. Chuck Cuminale started this tradition about thirty years ago and the last incarnation of his band, The Colorblind James Experience and now Hunu, carries the tradition on. It is always fun but a bit melancholy without Chuck. Chuck, real name James and really colorblind, was born a few days before or after Dylan and he was always one of Bob’s biggest fans but not all of Dylan. He was very particular. I know he liked this song because I remember Peggi singing it with him. That’s Ken Frank, CBJ bass player from the classic lineup, on bass in this video.
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Our neighbors were headed home from the beach when an SUV pulled in front of them. A guy hopped out and offered to sell them his homemade cd for ten bucks. They made another offer and came home with the goods and then let us borrow the unlabeled cd. It was produced by Bricksonion and his studio is in his car! The same car that pulled in front of our neighbors. If you get the itch to lay down a few tracks, give a call. Check out his YouTube Channel and you’ll see local rappers performing in his car.
Bricksonion (“like Smithsonion”) wasn’t around when the Stones recorded “Exile On Main Street” but it too was recorded by a mobile unit. I’m reading the 33 1/3 book on “Exile” now and it’s coinciding nicely with all the press from the re-release of that double lp. This 33 1/3 series would make good ebooks. Wish this one wasn’t so tedious. It doesn’t even make me want to put the lp on. It wasn’t the Stone best either.
Leave a commentI just checked back with the Amy Rigby/Wreckless Eric video that I took when they were here last year. I expected more that 478 views but there are two other versions of “Dancing With Joey Ramone” up there. I wish I could inflate their numbers. This is a sensational song. They’ll be back in town tomorrow night at the Lovin’ Cup in Henrietta and they are not to missed.
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It seems all good home cooked meals begin with onions and peppers. Agreed?
Roy Sowers goes to a lot of garage sales. And he likes to share the curiosities he picks up. He comes to see the band a lot and in the last year he has given us an old Miles lp, a drum case, Dr. John’s “In The Right Place” and a Benny Goodman lp with Gene Kruppa on drums. A few weeks back he gave us a 78rpm Count Basie set. I was pretty sure our Stanton turntable could do 78s but when I got home I couldn’t find the setting. I considered recording the lp at 45 and speeding the files up on the computer but I returned the recordings to Roy.
While listening to the stack one dollar lps that scored at Record Archive I spotted the 78 setting on our turntable. You press 33 and 45 at the same time and of course, you get 78. I never put this together until now.
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Peggi headed out to pick up her mom and stopped to talk with our neighbor who’s putting up a new fence to combat the deer. He pointed out that our left rear tire was low so Peggi turned around and asked me if I wanted to pump it with our bicycle pump. I had done this before but it’s a lot of work so I suggested she stop at the corner and visit the 50 cent air machine. When she returned home with her mom she informed me that “Air is now a dollar.”
This reminded me of the conversation I had with John on Saturday night as we sat around the picnic table out behind Abilene next door to world’s loudest air conditioner. John is an antique dealer and he was telling me that he could buy anything for a dollar. “Everything can be bought for a dollar.” “Things used to be rare,” he said. “Now, nothing is rare.” He pointed to the Labatt Blue bottle in front of him and said, “If they stop making this beer I could still buy it online.” I knew John was right but it still sounded astonishing.
We had been at Record Archive’s Sidewalk Sale on Saturday morning and they had a row of tables set up with $1 CDs and $1 LPs. Jeff Spevak was just finishing sifting through the boxes of vinyl. He told us, “I got all the good stuff.” I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not but he did have a nice looking George Jones lp in his stack. We found fourteen treasures and sure enough each one was a dollar.
The Last Poets lp is beyond astonishing. “White man’s gotta god complex.” And the “Flamenco Moods” record turned out be a hard core mournful flamenco mood. Already had Peggy Lee’s “Is That All There Is” but it too was only a dollar.
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I’m sure there will plenty of seats left at the Dryden Theater tonight where they are screening Shakey Productions newest release, the Jonathan Demme concert film, “Trunk Show” with Neil Young and Crazy Horse. Last night was the official Rochester premier and we got there about an hour early. Heather and Gretchen were just ahead of us at the ticket booth and we watched the projectionist lug the film canister up the stairs to the booth. The theater never never did fill up but it hardly mattered. It felt like we in Philadelphia where the show was being filmed.
The Dryden has a state of the art sound system and they aren’t afraid to crank it. Neil’s guitar sounded amazing. What is in that giant red stomp box? He pushed Crazy Horse to the limit and made Ben Keith (Grandpa in “Greendale”) look lost most of the time. He was so distracting I kept closing my eyes. He redeemed himself with his beautiful keyboard playing on “Like A Hurricane”. The title of this song alone pretty much sums up the energy Neil brings to a performance.
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We don’t set the alarm. We wake up when we wake up. Of course we work pretty late on occasion. Sometimes that’s before Rick and Monica and sometimes they are already at work when we crawl out. Rick brings our paper up to the door if he’s up first and I bring theirs to the door if I’m out there first. I have developed a sneaky approach to their doorstep that doesn’t set their dog alarm off but sometimes the dogs sense me and let loose. This morning I was headed up their driveway in my pjs and slippers, multitasking (brushing my teeth and reading the headlines as I walked), when the garage door popped open. Monica backed out and rolled down her window. I think she asked me how I was or something but I all I could manage was “Ugh Um.”
At last night’s Margaret Explosion (a five piece last night) gig I was still thinking about the post I made here before leaving the house. Although that post was filed under the “Notes on Painting” category it applies perfectly to what I feel we are trying to do with our musical collective. Start with an idea, only add things that improve on, develop or add to the expression. And if it’s not adding value, like my painting teacher says, “shut up.” I believe it to be a useful template but I am only the drummer. We have one more Wednesday at the Little and we will be off for the summer. James Nichols will be joining us on piano.
“And that’s the way I play. I play for the benefit of the band.” — Baby Dodds, New Orleans drummer
Here is Margaret Explosion – Dance Trance from the gig pictured above
I designed the menu for this place when it was Tuzz’s and Ted Williams held court here when it was Granna’s. He called it the “Literary Bar.” And then it was the Rose & Crown where Watkins & the Rapiers got their start. Today Monty’s Crown makes a pretty good rock n’ roll club. Tattooed women bartenders, cheap beer, dart board, pool table, very few tables and chairs in way of the stage and guys in Ramones t-shirts and Psychobilly leather jackets hanging around. And then there was this wacky slide show on the tv at the end of the bar.
It was the perfect setting for Terese Taylor and her band. Margaret Explosion’s bass player, Ken Frank, produced some tracks a few years back for Terese. Jeff Spevak calls her a “San Francisco country-punk, lo-fi guitar muse” and that’s seems to work although I didn’t really hear any country from her last night. You couldn’t hear the words either when it got loud but that only made it artier. James Whiton played some beautiful bowed bass and we told him so after the show.
SLT with Ken on bass channeled eighties Iggy. Marathon Mark was there. Did he used to be in SLT or am I confusing him with Luke Warm. Ted Williams was at the bar looking younger than he did in the eighties. The conversation turned to the “War in Heaven”, a poetry performance piece of Ted’s that Peggi and I played on. Robert Meyerowitz, who has been in Alaska for the last two decades or so responded to my fb post last week that he would be “attending” the Margaret Explosion gig at the Little. I just assumed he was kidding but there he was in the first table. He drove all the way from Anchorage! And when we were leaving the bar last night he was just walking in, true to form.
Peggi woke up this morning singing the theme from Ted William’s “The War In Heaven.”.
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I’d rather think of of “Record Store Day” as record day. It sounds more fun than supporting a dying business model. And it was fun. Bop Shop had two turntables set up in the atrium and the Modern Lovers first record cranked when we walked in. We saw old friends plowing through boxes of vinyl and got caught up in all. Every record in the old Bohdi’s Café space was one dollar. We came home with “Guitars Ala Lee”, Debussy “Nocturnes, Wagner Preludes and Overtures, Carpenters “Close To You”, Toscanini conducting Wagner’s “Good Friday Spell”., Purcell’s Funeral Music for Queen Mary, “South Pacific”, Lesly Gore’s “Love Me by Name” with a picture of her on the cover looking like Bowie’s Alladin Sane and something called “A Bunch of Bongos.”
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A piano player named James sat in with Margaret Explosion last night. He sounded great and he had a good time so he will probably be back next Wednesday. Bob Martin was in Las Vegas for a trade show so Jack Schaefer played guitar and bass clarinet. We fell into another prom night thing (I’ve posted the last one below) and it went over really well. I had my eyes closed and half expected to see people slow dancing when I opened them.
We found the bones shown above on the left on one side of the creek and the ones on the right on the other. What looked like the head of a strange animal turned out to be the back end of a deer. When we flipped them both 180 the entire rib cage fell into place. You can see the saw marks in the skull from where a rackaholic cut off the deer’s rack.
We’ve listened to a lot of live Margaret Explosion in the last month while we picked songs for this 50 Song Compendium to “Live Dive”. Once we settled on the fifty song we liked best we tried them out and in the last week bumped the sampling rate of the aiffs (wavs on the pc side) up to 320 variable bit and re-uploaded them. Even tweaked a few of the covers and launched the site today. We sent out a few emails and we’ll see if the server holds up. We’ve broken even with cd sales so now we’re giving away the store. A shrewd and bone headed marketing move.
