Monday, June 23, 2008

MP3some Radio

Two things today, only one of which is music-related.

First of all, it saddens me to report that George Carlin has died at the age of 71. Mr. Carlin, along with Richard Pryor, was one of my two favorite modern comics. Though I never got to see him live (I had talked about doing so since I was about 16, but never found myself in the right circumstance to do so), Carlin and his HBO specials never failed to crack me up. I have posted his 1982 special, Carlin at Carnegie Hall, for your enjoyment.



On the musical end, I do have an offering: MP3some Radio. That's right, I'm now running an internet radio station out of my apartment. While I cannot guarantee its hours of operation (weekdays 9-5, typically) and reliability (depends on the number of listeners and general internet traffic), I can vouch for the excellence of the music. The station playlist consists of 16+ hours of handpicked tracks in different styles (jazz and Classical have been omitted for continuity's sake), and continues to expand. Enjoy.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Dr. John, the Night Tripper

The first time I came in contact with Dr. John's work was on an after-hours TV special in which he and Harry Connick, Jr. did a live duet of "Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans":

In the wake of the Hurricane, this song has become rather poignant.

Coupled with my musical naivety (I was about 7 or 8 when I saw the duet), the low-key delivery of the track led me to believe that Dr. John was something of a crooner. Perhaps he was not a conventional crooner - his voice is certainly not silky smooth like those of Sinatra, Bing Crosby, or Tony Bennett - but I figured he'd be more in the vein of a Lou Rawls. That is, I figured he'd be one of those rare guys who parlayed his unique rasp into a decently successful career singing blues/R&B and jazz standards.

This, of course, made it even more shocking when I heard Gris Gris (1968) for the first time many years later. When I threw on "Gris Gris Gumbo Ya Ya," the opening track, I was expecting a grittier (and perhaps Cajun-influenced) version of Scott Walker. Instead, I was greeted by a lecherous saxophone line followed by a croaked: "They call me Dr. John, I'm known as the Night Tripper." This was not a conventional record, let alone a fulfillment of my apparently unrealistic expectations. Despite my immediate enjoyment of the music, it was very clear that it would take several listens for me to fully understand the record. And listen I did.

The most impressive aspect of Gris Gris, I found, was its propensity to resist any sort of meaningful classification. It was certainly very much influenced by the culture of New Orleans (most obviously, the title of the record comes from Voodoo/Creole traditions), but it was not Cajun or Zydeco music. It carried trappings of jazz and soul, but it was clearly not a record in either genre. It was damned funky, but not in the sense that Curtis Mayfield or The Meters were funky. It even showed the influence of contemporary psychedelic albums, despite it being the farthest thing away from a conventional psychedelic record. Indeed, it seems easier to describe what Gris Gris is not as opposed to what it is.

Dr. John - Gris-Gris
Dr. John: Freaking out the squares since 1940.

Today's post is "Mama Roux," a fine representation of the ridiculousness on display throughout Gris Gris. First and foremost, listen to the synergistic bass/keys tone in the left channel. Also note that the drum kit is taking a supporting role to the cowbell and timbales. Dr. John's vocal is stellar (despite its tendency to descend into sporadic periods of gibberish), but also pay attention to the backing vocalists supporting the song in any way they can - from the "Mama Roux" refrain to the percussive noises about halfway through the track. Much like Gris Gris as a whole, this track is anything but conventional, though oddly catchy nonetheless.

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Michael Brown Gets His Due

I have returned. Despite an increasing workload, I'm hoping to get back into a rhythm of posting with regularity. I'm also hoping to continue the site's expansion. In addition to adding more writers, there are also plans to add a podcast. But we'll cross those bridges when we come to them. In the meantime, let's get back to the music, shall we?

Perhaps some of you are familiar with the song "Walk Away Renée." It seemed to be in permanent rotation on the local oldies stations
(103.3 Boston and 101.5 Providence, for those keeping track) when I was a kid, and I was always a fan. It's a fine piece of melancholy baroque pop, complete with string section, harpsichord, and some well-arranged vocal harmonies during the choruses. A video clip is provided below:

Great song. Pathetic video.

I had always assumed that The Left Banke, the band behind the single in question, was something of a one (actually two - their single "Pretty Ballerina" also experienced some success) hit wonder. Which is why, upon picking up a copy of Walk Away Renée/Pretty Ballerina (1967), I was not expecting an impressive album. Of course, my assumptions were entirely incorrect. The songs on the album share the same quality of songwriting, production, and arrangements of the singles. A link to one of those tracks, "She May Call You Up Tonight," is below. Like "Walk Away Renée," this track features some very well-arranged harmonies and flawless songwriting.

The Left Banke - Walk Away Renée / Pretty Ballerina
Usually, records that prominently display the names of singles on the front cover
are chiefly comprised of subpar filler tracks. This, however, is an exception.



Unfortunately, the original Left Banke lineup was together for only one album. Primary songwriter Michael Brown moved on to form Montage, picking up right where his old band left off. Montage's 1969 self-titled record features the same sophisticated writing and arrangements that characterized the Left Banke's best material. "The Song Is Love," linked below for your enjoyment, is a fine example of Montage's brilliance. Listen to the way that band conforms to the the lyric during the intro/chorus - the passage is in an odd 7/8 time signature, yet sounds seamless and natural. Note the use of what sounds like an RMI piano in lieu of a harpsichord. Take a few listens to appreciate the quality of the songwriting itself. In a mere minute and 47 seconds of baroque sunshine pop, Brown manages to seamlessly include: an infectious chorus/hook, a couple of verses with some nice chord changes (not to mention some beautifully-arranged backing vocals), a perfect bridge (Mr. Brown, it appears, was the bridge master - I don't believe he ever wrote any that were less than stellar), and even a brass solo section. This is how it's done, boys and girls.

Montage - Montage
"Have you ever seen that movie Tron?"


Again, after a single album, Brown moved on to another project. And yet again, Brown returned to form, writing and arranging more symphonic pop with Stories. "Kathleen," linked below, is a good representative track from their self-titled record. The arrangements are slightly watered-down in comparison to Brown's earlier work, but nonetheless retain his distinct flair. The recording quality is excellent, allowing the orchestral arrangements to come alive. Of course, the songwriting is impeccable.

Stories - About Us
Wow.


Is it just me, or does Michael Brown turn everything he touches into flawless Baroque pop? This guy should be producing Belle and Sebastian...

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Thank You, Lou Pearlman - Epilogue

First things first, my apologies to those who have been checking the site regularly. I've been trying to sort out a bunch of things in the last few weeks, and the blog has suffered as a result. The good news is that things look to be clearing up a bit, and I'm hoping to start posting again on a regular schedule very soon.

In the meantime, I wanted to point out that Lou Pearlman was sentenced today to 25 years in prison. I'm ecstatic. A few months ago, I wrote a piece about Pearlman when he initially pleaded guilty to charges of fraud. I lamented that the plea bargain would likely spare him extensive jail time. Apparently, I was wrong - 25 years is quite a long while.

Granted, they're not going to stick Lou in real prison. He, like most white-collar criminals, will not be subjected to the cell-block beatings and "man love" that he so deserves. I'm also certain that he'll be paroled sooner rather than later, leaving him plenty of free time to attempt his next artistically-bankrupt endeavor. The difference is that this time around, nobody in their right mind will trust him. Everyone - from the talent he solicits to the consumers and businessmen to whom he peddles his product - will be acutely aware that they are dealing with Lou Pearlman, the convicted swindler. Furthermore, the major label system under which Pearlman made the bulk of his money should (fingers crossed) have collapsed entirely by the time he finds himself a free man.

Today's 25 year sentence will not erase "Everybody (Backstreet's Back)" from the 1998 Billboard charts, nor will it prevent "Summer Girls" from appearing on a television-advertised Hot Hits of the 90s compilation some ten years from now. It should, however, put a damper on Pearlman's ability to take any of his future projects to the mainstream. And that, as far as I'm concerned, makes all the difference.

Friday, May 2, 2008

Spectrum

Larry Young, Tony Williams, John McLaughlin

As shown by my previous post, I really, really like the trio format. Saxophone-bass-drums (David Murray's The Hill with Joe Chambers and Richard Davis, with Davis playing arco during most of his solos). Piano-bass-drums (Ellington's Money Jungle with Mingus and Roach - Mingus' playing reflects he looks on the album cover - angry and out of step - but in a good way). Even three guitars - Al Di Meola, John McLaughlin & Paco De Lucia's Friday Night in San Francisco (a tad wanky -you'll exhaust yourself trying to keep up with what's being played). I suppose I'm drawn to this format because it allows for a music that is subdued and exploratory. For a rainy day. Generally. Today's selection is an exception to that rule.

The Organ Trio


Wes Montgomery - A Dynamic New Sound

Above you will see pictured the 1959 album "A Dynamic New Sound," one of guitarist Wes Montogmery's first albums under his own name. Incredibly tasteful guitar solos with organ (Melvin Rhyne) and drum (Paul Parker) accompaniment. The album cover says it all - the guitarist is fully illustrated, while the drummer and the organist are but a few quick brush strokes.

Flash forward ten years.

The Tony Williams Lifetime - Emergency!

Ten years of rhythmic invention, if not ten years in recording technology. 1969. The record: Emergency! Here, all three players simultaneously fill a lead role. A very loud lead role. While the composition is credited to the guitarist (John McLaughlin) and the record is under the drummer's (Tony Williams) name, on this track, it is the organist (Larry Young) who has the most inventive solos. The whole is the sum of consistently shifting parts. This is music-as-argument.

1970 saw the release of the band's final album under its original lineup, (turn it over). By the following year, McLaughlin had left the group to follow Sri Chinmoy and to form his own group, the Mahavishnu Orchestra, which would use the same interplay dynamics, though with much better recording technology at hand, to achieve critical and commercial success. Williams and Young (who now went by the name Khalid Yasin) added two additional percussionists, a guitarist, and an upright bassist (Ron Carter on record, Joony Booth on tour) for the (perhaps tellingly titled?) album Ego. With so many percussionists, there's almost an Art Ensemble of Chicago vibe to these proceedings, minus Lester Bowie:

Tony Williams Lifetime - "Big Nick," live ca. 1971

Williams, however, is simply brilliant in this clip, backing Stan Getz:

Tony Williams ("Captain Marvel" band) - "Fiesta," drum solo, live 1972

Second Movement

Les McCann & Eddie Harris - Second Movement
Soul jazz done right.

Pianist/vocalist Les McCann and saxophonist Eddie Harris first recorded together at the 1969 Montreaux Jazz Festival. Apparently, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision - Harris had not rehearsed at all with McCann, and was following along with the material by watching his collaborator's hands on the piano. Nonetheless, the resulting album (Swiss Movement) was a resounding success, even yielding what would become a soul-jazz classic, the platinum single "Compared to What." It was a performance perfectly suited to McCann's penchant for spontaneity, though perhaps ill-suited to Harris' obsessive perfectionism.

The Les McCann Trio, Eddie Harris, and Benny Bailey
perform "Compared to What" at Montreaux, part 1.

"Compared to What," part 2.

Two years removed from their Montreaux success, Les and Eddie reunited in the studio to produce a second album, 1971's Second Movement. While the record would end up a largely-forgotten affair, its quality was nonetheless on par with its older brother. This isn't to say that the contents of Second Movement are a rehashing of the original set - quite the contrary, it seems that McCann and Harris used the time in the studio to advance their sound. For one, McCann switched from acoustic to electric piano, manning the Rhodes as expertly as he did the grand at Montreaux. Bassist Jerry Jemmott followed suit for the bulk of the record, wielding the electric Fender bass with much aplomb. The switch brought the group further into soul territory, and the song selection reflected such a change - two of the five tracks were vocally driven, even incorporating a group of female backup singers. "Carry on Brother," for example, is socially conscious piece propelled by McCann's vocal, Jemmott's solid bass, and studio legend Cornell Dupree's rhythm guitar work - not to mention Harris' burning electric sax. "Universal Prisoner" is a ballad featuring McCann's rich voice, ethereal Rhodes, and some gorgeous chord changes. The closing track, "Samia," is a subtle ballad driven by Leroy Vinnegar's upright bass and some delicate interplay between the Rhodes and sax.

Today's upload is "Shorty Rides Again," the first track on the record. A friend of mine who knows McCann has told me that "Shorty" is the guy who "gets wtih your woman while you're out of town." It is also the most upbeat track on the record, and perhaps the most interesting form a jazz perspective. Note Harris' ridiculous tone on his electrified saxophone, as well as McCann's Rhodes playing. Listen around the 7:00 mark when McCann starts berating "Shorty" over the closing groove. Doesn't get much better than this.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Reading the Tea Leaves

Bill Frisell - East/West

Bill Frisell - East/West

Keith Jarrett - Somewhere Before

Keith Jarrett - Somewhere Before


Why would anyone want to cover a Dylan song without the lyrics? I suppose there's the pop notoriety - it's what led Wes Montgomery and George Benson to cover the Beatles. What led Miles Davis to record version after version of Cyndi Lauper's "Time after Time." The audience "knows what to expect" when presented with pop material. But it can also be alienated if the presentation varies too greatly from these expectations.
So even without the lyrics, any artist covering Dylan has to shoulder the cultural baggage of the material. Or else let it carry them away.
Other than that they are both renditions of Dylan songs performed live by trios, today's selections could not be any more different. Bill Frisell, guitarist, tends to exert a lead role in his expansive take on "A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall," while Keith Jarrett, pianist, alternates with the bass player Charlie Haden between leading and comping in his take on "My Back Pages."