I Blog What I Hear

OK, we’ve gotta discuss an ongoing epidemic at shows.  No, not the loud talker, not the drunk girl yelling at her friends, not even the guy texting.  We’re talking about photographers.  I understand you would like to capture the moment.  At times, I would too.  But here’s the difference.  I take out my phone, snap a few quick pictures, then I put it away.  I.  Put.  It.  Away.

I Took Two Pictures. This Is One.

Friday night, as part of the New York Guitar Festival, Nels Cline and Thurston Moore played as a duo at Rockwood Music Hall.  They called it “Pillow Wand”  maybe because it feels like being hit with a magical pillow.  These possibly the two most widely known Avante Garde leaning guitar players, who have crossed over into the mainstream world.  Cline as a part of Wilco, and Moore founding Sonic Youth.  Needless to say, lots of people were in that tiny room.

This was my first time at Stage Two of Rockwood Music Hall, a lovely addition.  It seems to be reserved for more well known acts, were as on Stage One, there’s always the chance that dude with a weird Jew Fro will go on right before your friend’s band and play the entire Plastic Ono Band album front to back.  Its a cozy space, the sound was great, and despite it being packed, it was not that hard to obtain a beverage.

Oh right, it was packed.  It was definitely over fire department capacity.  People would walk down the entrance stairs, see that there was nowhere to go, and literally just set up camp on the stairs.  That can’t be safe.

Now, before we get to the problem of people preserving their memories on compact flash cards, lets talk about the music.  They played a continuous set of sound….not really just noise, but not melodic compositions.  It was basically a fucking giant explosion.  Tons of effects pedals, lots of volume, several Jazzmasters.  They played like they meant it.  I would compare it to some type of experimental painting.  You see some weird shit thrown on a canvas and you think “I could totally do that.”  Well maybe in the case of some phony artist who just wants the image, you could.  But look at one of those giant Jackson Pollock canvases, and there is no way you could.  That’s what these guys were like.

Every sound seemed like they meant it.  There was no phoning it in.  It’s a wonder their guitars didn’t just fall in pieces to the floor.  They put these instruments through incredible abuse.  Cline plays the strings with a little kitchen whisk, Moore sticking a drumstick under the strings on the neck and thrashes back and forth.  They hit the tremelo so hard, it would be no surprise if the bridges just popped off. Yet somehow, they did not.  But that was the good part, lets get to the other thing.

There seems to be a rule with professional photographers.  They respect those around them.  And when they don’t, its brief.  A guy asks you if he can switch spots for a minute to get some shots, then moves along.  Its a mild inconvenience, but you live through it.  When I was about 11, we went to see Slash at the now defunct NY Club Tramps.  His manager came out beforehand and told all of the photographers, “YOU GET ONE SONG!  THEN YOU’RE OUT OF HERE!”  lo and behold, he came back out after that song, yelling “THAT’S IT!  GET ‘EM OUT!”  fucking professionals.

Somewhere between 1994 and now, things have changed.  I don’t dispute that the iPhone camera is awesome.  I love it.  I use it all the time.  It makes life better.  You can remember any moment, because you always have it with you.  And the pics look pretty good!  But think for a fucking minute.  How many pictures do you need?  Can’t you actually live in the moment and enjoy the amazing things happening in front of you?  You really need to look in a 3″ LCD monitor to experience what’s in front of you?  Fuck you.

The light from all the iPhones and cameras rivaled the stage lighting, which was minimal.  Its 2 dudes with guitars.  The lighting doesn’t change.  They aren’t even switching guitars.  How different is it going to be?  That’s not even the issue, I guess if you want to get all artistic, that’s fine.  But don’t do it in a tiny club.  The amount of dudes with fucking giant DSLR’s with huge telephoto lenses on them was just ridiculous.

We got pushed in front of several times, and the photographers just planted themselves.  Also, those cameras are kind of loud if its not a big rock and roll moment.  If the music gets quiet…..CLICK CLICK CLICK….really?  I’ve heard a bootleg of Neil Young at the Bottom Line, where he asks a photographer not to shoot during the songs, because people can hear it.  Jeff Tweedy would call out anyone with a camera and tell them to get rid of it on Wilco’s last tour.  Just last month at Carnegie Hall, Ryan Adams stopped the show and went on a hilarious rant….to paraphrase  “oh my god, you HAVE to have gotten that shot by now.  You need to keep taking them?  What is your camera from like 1975 and you need to change flashbulbs or something?  Want ME to take it for you?? Just put it away”  They have a point.

At one point, the asshole with the Hubble Telescope in front of me changed cards…because you need to fill up more than one giant flash card during a 45 minute set.  Then he was fucking reviewing and deleting photos!  Are you fucking kidding me? This place is the size of a shoebox and you’re standing in front of everyone just doing that?  And those people with the iPhones who just leave them held up the whole time!  Are your poorly lit out of focus shots going to be that great?!

OK, I need to calm down.  I’ve decided next time this happens, I’m going to get right in front of every lens I see, and just give the F.O.B Peace Sign.  Or yell “CLICK CLICK CLICK!” or just point my phone directly in front of their camera, turn the flash on, and just go for it.  We need to do something about this, kids.  Who’s with me?

Here’s what bothers me about breaking bad. It’s incredibly stressful. Yes, its an extremely well done show that does not rely on sex or explosions to keep your interest, but it just stresses me the fuck out. Mad Men, I can handle. You know everything is going to be ok, and the characters aren’t that likable to begin with. But Breaking Bad, you just want everything to turn out ok for everyone involved! Oh man, I’m getting worked up just thinking about it!

Let me rewind. I had never seen a single episode prior to last week. We just finished season two on Netflix, and I think I have to call it quits. In the season finale, I found myself futzing with my phone, just so I would have an excuse to look away from the screen.

I knew a friend of a friend, lets say acquaintance, who told everyone he had cancer and acted traumatized. It later turned out he was making false statements. Yeah, special place in hell. Watching Walter White (w-w-w) makes me even more offended by that person. But I feel nearly the exact anger when someone on Breaking Bad does something stupid. I’m literally yelling at Jesse. I just can’t take it.

Am I just running away from serious things and taking shelter in Seinfeld reruns or episodes of Planet Earth and Antiques Roadshow? Yes, I probably am. But sometimes you don’t want to confront the darkside, you just want to know how much someones charming heirloom side table is worth. Am I Right?

Well, its a new year, should we talk about some reflections or thoughts? Here’s a concept to wrap your head around. There comes a time we all must accept that people we don’t like are very talented. I think if you wanted to put your finger on what it feels like to be an adult, that’s probably it. I think it’s quite a discovery. It can make us work harder and think differently though, so there is an upside. Someone get me some grant money. Let’s get Marc Maron involved, it’s pretty much all he talks about.

There are lots of shows coming up in the new year, Nels Cline and Thurston Moore later this month, Andrew Bird way off in April, I’m sure there will be one or two more. The Bad Plus did their annual run at the Vanguard last week, inspiring and confusing all at the same time. So much so, that I felt the need to drink about 13 Old Fashioned-s (what is the correct tense on that?) in celebration. Sometimes, that’s all you can do.

I just saw this post on Dangerous Minds about an un aired interview with Frank Zappa in 1985.  I figured, why not, lets give it a viewing.

Suddenly, before I knew it, I was catapulted back to my early teens, sitting in my New Jersey living room, watching the VHS (!) rental copy of Baby Snakes from Tower Records.  It was long out of print, they wouldn’t sell it, so I just kept renting it over and over.  My neighbor, who was actually in the film randomly on the stage, showed it to me, and forever changed my musical outlook.

Zappa is a musician and figure who doesn’t get much notoriety these days.  This interview reminded me of that.  On the surface to the casual listener, he made really weird, sometimes funny music.  Obviously, the first song I latched onto was called “Titties and Beer”  about a motorcycle rider fighting the devil over his girlfriend.  Yep.  But go slightly beyond the silly lyrics, and all of his music was incredibly complex.  The man was unstoppably prolific.  In his lifetime he released over 70 albums.  Composed music for orchestras, early synthesizers, rock bands, jazz groups, made films, was an early pioneer of clay-mation, and who knows what else.
Oh yeah, he also testified before congress and led the fight against censorship in music.

After bringing my first guitar teacher some Zappa recordings I wanted to learn, it soon became evident there was a lot more going on than lyrics about strange characters.  If you watch Baby Snakes, finally reissued on DVD a few years back, look at the band.  Terry Bozzio is on drums, and looks about 14.  He’s playing some ridiculous stuff, somehow not sounding as annoying as any wanking fill-fueled fusion asshole drummer that came after him.  You get the sense that he’s just trying to do what Zappa envisioned, and there’s no one else on the planet who could do that.  Adrian Belew of King Crimson is on guitar, dressed as a flight attendant for most of the evening.  Nearly everyone in the band has a modular synthesizer.  There is a full orchestral percussion setup.  The vocal arrangements could make your head explode.  And on top of that, it ends with Zappa shredding the face off of all in attendance on several guitar solos.  Who the fuck was this guy?

Luckily, he did write a book before he passed.  The Real Frank Zappa book is 100% required reading.  I haven’t thought about it in years, I’m now going to go back and re-read it.  If for nothing else, the political connotations.  I rarely if ever will get political on this here blog, but I’ve gotta throw out a few things.  Zappa makes the point in the above interview of defending freedoms.  There’s this whole Occupy Wall St movement happening, and say what you will about their methods, but their message is important.  Pretty much no people of note have stood up and outwardly supported the movement.  Sure, some musicians have played short sets, but I mean, come on.  No one comes out in the media and supports it.  We’re stuck with these shitty 24hr news as entertainment outlets. Has anyone of note written a scathing article taking down the financial criminals? Its not like there’s no outlet for it. Like it or not, celebrities have power in our lovely land, why not do something with it. Eh?

When Tipper Gore (wife of the inventor of the internet) decided to form the PMRC (parents music resource center) in order to get those “Parental Advisory” stickers on albums at the time….Zappa stood right the fuck up.  No one could quiet him down.  He led the fight, flaming sword full of unplayable arrangements waving.

Would Bieber do this?  Would ANYONE? Radiohead couldn’t articulate it this clearly.  But Zappa marched right up to the hill and spoke in his own words.  He read the first amendment out loud to the committee trying to censor him, then he said “That’s for reference!” Just watch the video.  How did his balls fit through the door!

I just wish we could see what Zappa would be doing today.  Sure, people say that about any musician long gone…Hendrix, Joplin, Cobain, whatever, but all of them would have likely fallen from greatness, sold out, made much worse music, and tarnished their reputations to some degree.  What would Zappa have done with the internet?  Pro Tools?  Youtube?  His output would have made Ryan Adams look like Axl Rose.  Can you imagine Zappa’s blog?  Would you see his music in a Wall Mart commercial?

These are just some things to think about.  Go back and listen to “We’re Only In It For The Money”  then listen to “Sheik Yerbouti”  then watch these videos once more. What we’re really missing is someone who just does not give a shit about what anyone else thinks, answers to no one but themselves, and says whatever they believe it. It’s surprising, because we basically all have our own broadcast networks, the major labels are dead, MTV and Radio are irrelevant, and you can sell your own products without distribution.

Anyhoo, that enough ranting for now. Happy Chanukah!

Very few bands can get away with a direct imitation of another era’s style.  It’s so hard to pull something off convincingly, let alone accurately.  Those swing bands of the 90’s, the garage band revival, the brief polka boom of the mid 2000’s, it often just doesn’t work.  So when Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings pull it off, it means that much more.

I’ve written on these here pages about Jones and the Dap Kings before, so I won’t go into an extended description of what they’re about.  You probably know, and to quote the one and only Binky Grip-Tight of the Dap Kings  “If you don’t know, you got to ask somebody!”

They held their Daptone 10th Anniversary Shows over 4 nights, 2 at the Music Hall of Williamsburg, and 2 at the Bowery Ballroom.  First off, you have never seen that many people on the Bowery stage.  9 musicians in the band, 2 backup singers on a riser, and Jones out front.  Not exactly spacious.

The crowd at a Dap Kings show is unlike most indie bands crowds.  Decidedly less drunken obnoxious people, but the ones who are there, obviously gravitate right towards me.  Here’s a little tip.  If you’re a drunken white girl, it’s probably not the best idea to try to do those soul-vocal trill things from the crowd while Jones is in telling an emotional story about her mother being sick.  Ya know?  Just my opinion.

Something about the band seemed just slightly off last night.  Jones clearly was having monitor problems, kept asking for more reverb and saying she couldn’t hear.  While the dap kings stage presence is always stoic, it seemed a little more stoic than usual.  Having said that, (that’s a Larry David reference) Sharon Jones feeling a little off, is like most musicians on the best day of their lives, so we’ll give her a pass.

She still gives 100%, there is no doubting that.  The crowd at the Bowery responded to every move.  In one surprising moment, they brought out Eric Kalb to sit in on drums.  Kalb, an early childhood drumming hero, was part of Deep Banana Blackout, and was probably the first drummer I ever saw play in that ghost note shuffle style in person.  It permanently changed me as a musician.  I’ve heard he’s been playing with Charlie Hunter recently, as for the rest of Deep Banana, we don’t really know where they’ve gone…somewhere into the jam band ether.  We wish them the best.

Homer Steinweiss, the regular Dap Kings Drummer, (who also seems to have a Food Blog) apparently is a lefty,  something also discovered last night. The kit was set up semi backwards, playing the kick with his left foot, but still playing the hi hat with his right hand.  Whatever, he’s allowed to do what he wants.

My favorite Dap Kings show still remains the Starland Ballroom, in the Middle Of Nowhere, South Jersey, during a snow storm.  It’s always the unexpected ones that get you.  Yes, the Bowery was a great show, they played with precision most bands can only dream of.  But when the bar is set so incredibly high, you have to be held to that standard.  I’ll give them a pass this time, you’ve earned it Sharon Jones.

Well, it was quite a week for live music.  There are a lot of things that can be substituted or forgotten.  If you wanted, you could get away with never speaking another word to another human being.  Never read an actual bound book.  Forget seeing a movie in a theater.  But there is no substitute for live music.

The week came to an end with Brian Blade, Bill Frisell, and Jenny Scheinman at The Village Vanguard.  Well, it was Thursday, but who’s counting.  The Vanguard is a NY institution, that looks nearly exactly as it did in its heyday.  Every legend of jazz has played there, and the more spiritual among us like to imagine that there is a little spirit of those left behind.

It was a fitting week to visit, as Paul Motian had just passed away, the Vanguard was his home for the last few years, and Frisell was a member of his long running trio with Joe Lovano (who else would have the balls to have a trio with sax, drums, and guitar??)

One of my favorite shows of all time was the Brian Blade Fellowship at this venue a few years back.  I couldn’t see a thing (which happens if you sit anywhere except the very front) but it made no difference.  Everyone in the venue was straining their necks to see what Blade was up to behind the vast array of musicians on that tiny stage.  This evening was a little easier, there were only 2 other up there.

The set was less experimental than you would imagine.  Frisell had his pedal board, some looping devices, probably a magic pedal that allows him to play a Statocaster at the Village Vanguard and not look ridiculous doing so…and probably not a Boss Metal Zone.  Scheinman was leading the band, playing most of the melody, but in truth, you can’t have Brian Blade on a stage and expect him not to be the focus.

It’s not even through showmanship or excessive display of chops.  Blade could probably play just a ride cymbal with a broomstick and most of us would have been captivated.  The man has something most do not.  It goes beyond time.  Its not speed, or some Dave Weckl-esque shit, he’s just operating on a level different from the rest of us.  I commented to my friend that this is what Elvin Jones must have sounded like at the Vanguard.  You can see everything he’s doing – he’s using the same tools available to anyone else.  But he’s just extracting something different from them.  He’s from New Orleans, let’s call it Voodoo.

This week it will continue, at a much more relaxed pace, with Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings, also Peter Lugers steak, and while that is not music, it is certainly worth noting.