Please forgive my ignorance, but I have no idea who Donny Hathaway is. I was just looking over this post on Aquarium Drunkard, and came across it. I respect and admire John Lennon, but I’m not one to proclaim my undying love for him. I do love the song “Jealous Guy” though.
Covers are tough territory as we all know, there is so much to live up to already. And on this subject, I was damn near sure The Faces took the cake on that one. The classic outtake with the band in a full on argument beforehand makes you smile every time. Its a fantastic groove, even more so than the original.
But all of a sudden, my mind was blown. It was all over. In retrospect, who was I to think that any english white guys could out-soul a dude named Donny Hathaway. I literally heard Rod Stewart, Ronnie Wood, and the ghost of John Lennon, get up, put their coats on, and say “well, nice knowing you, fuckers”
I literally cannot stop listening to it. That guitar line!! Holy shit who is playing that!? The tambourine on the intro has more soul than the collected works of American popular music in the last 40 years. The piano is slightly out of tune, but it only enhances it. And it’s LIVE! I cannot believe this.
Upon closer inspection, its soul legends Willie Weeks on bass, Cody Clayton and Cornell Dupree on guitar, who seem to have played with nearly everyone on the planet.
There’s not much more to say than that. This is the correct way to start a Friday…or Tuesday, or Monday for that matter. Just listen to it.
Jeff Mangum is a mysterious character. A front man for a band who disappeared just as he was receiving critical acclaim. Vanishing into the woods to hunt the last remaining American Bison while youngins the world over reflect on the beauty of his lyrics. I completely made that up, I think it was moose he went to hunt. But the rest is true.
How many songwriters have written the elusive perfect album? In The Aeroplane Over The Sea is one of those. It sounds like it could have been a psychedelic concept album in the late 60’s. A mix of “We’re Only In It For The Money” and something by an alternate universe Neil Young. I’ll admit I came very late to the party, only learning about Neutral Milk Hotel a few years ago, but that makes it no less powerful. (Maybe it makes it MORE powerful, ever think of that? Eh?? DID YOU?! Ok, on we go.)
It was announced about 8 months ago that Mangum would do a series of solo acoustic shows, including one at the greatest venue on earth, the Loews Landmark Theater in Journal Square, Jersey City. This blog may be filled with sarcasm, but that statement is 100% sincere. I lived in Journal Square, the cultural center of the known universe, for several years. We had the chance to see Beck, The Magnetic Fields, The Decemberists, and a ton of classic movies at the Loews, and it never disappointed. If Dracula suddenly appeared in one of the dark imposingly giant boxes beside the stage, no one would be surprised.
Seeing iconic figures after years of absence is always a tricky proposition. Someone who’s songs meant so much to so many, has a lot to live up to. What if he just plain doesn’t have it anymore? There are a lot of long notes in those songs…What if it’s just a money grab and he doesn’t really care? (solo acoustic….you’ve got NO overhead man, rake in the dollars!) Then it gets you thinking about why Mangum backed out of the spotlight in the first place.
It has often been said, that had Vampire Weekend died in a fiery plane crash directly after their first album, they would be remembered as legends. Forget how much you hate them, and imagine if it were not overplayed and there were no backlash. Maybe Mangum realized this, and took a step back. Maybe he figured “Well, there’s 11 perfect songs, many people work their whole lives for much less, I’m goin’ on break.” Who knows, this is not Being John Malkovich, although we were fairly close to the NJ Turnpike.
After a leisurely stroll around the Loews (seriously, the bathroom lounge must have been THE place to hang during the 1930’s) the lobby lights flickered like an opera performance, and it was time to go. Mangum appeared with several acoustic guitars and launched right into it.
His voice seems nearly unchanged. Yes, there were some almost flubs…but those crazy high sustained notes were all there. The man has breath control like a fucking dolphin. All the hits were played, and the crowd was very respectful, at least from where we were sitting. Yes, it was beautiful, but at times I wished there were a little more sound. At one point, he brought on some Flugelhorn and Clarinet, and it was fantastic. If they had played the classic horn lines with him the entire show, I would have been an emotional wreck, collapsed on the ground bawling like an infant. Imagine the water damage? There were a LOT of sensitive people in that theater. Maybe it was a safety issue.
Seeing a songwriter perform solo, often gets you right into the heart of a song. For some reason, I think Mangum’s songs are pretty wide open to begin with. Even with all the beautiful noisy arrangements on Aeroplane, the song always comes through, its as if Mangum was the Sinatra in front of the Basie Orchestra of whimsical noises. So maybe this was just showcasing what we all knew already. Not to say it wasn’t a great performance, it certainly was, it’s just hard to fill an entire theater with a tiny guitar (his voice certainly did the job, we’re talking instrumentally here.)
So who knows what will happen. His last release of new music was many years ago. What has he been doing since? If he was sitting in his living room playing “Two Headed Boy” over and over again…no one would blame him, but we’d like to think something new could be on the horizon. He played a set at Occupy Wall Street, so there must be some motivation there? I refuse to speculate. Let’s just let Jeff be Jeff. He has a heavy legacy to deal with, he can do whatever he fucking wants, ok?
I have a friend who loves Foster The People. He loves them like This Guy loves This Band. Were he to be trapped on a desert island, he would bring the single “Pumped Up Kicks” on vinyl, and nothing else, even if he were allowed 5 complete albums. What I’m saying is, some people seem to love this band.
This morning I came across a post on Stereogum which shows them performing another song, other than “Pumped Up Kicks”. Honestly, I watched it twice and can’t remember a single thing about it, other than the fact that the singer seems to remind me of a ferret, and has this foot dance thing happening that makes me want to roll a full barrel of pickles in his direction.
Sure, “Pumped Up Kicks” is a very catchy tune. Its unstoppable. But does anyone truly believe this band will be anything beyond a one hit wonder? Do people even use that term anymore in this one track at a time world? Does that make me sound old? Will I have to face mortality? Am I having a mid life crisis? All of these answers may be yes, still others may be no. What do you want from me, you don’t come here for answers.
It’s no secret that my guilty pleasure in life is watching various morning TV shows. In my former life a TV was nowhere in sight, but for some reason, I find them comforting. The pointless chatter, combined with false enthusiasm, and occasional combination of hilarious wild animals is just a great way to start the day. Besides this, these shows are a breeding ground for bands you will never hear from 5 minutes after their segment airs.
As previously mentioned, LMFAO seems to be all over that shit. Still, after knowing exactly what the performers look like and hearing their song several times, I could not at all tell you how it sounds. Any combination of a few good looking people wearing in ear monitors and performing to back up tracks…I have no fucking idea what these groups sound like. These performers are like the water droplets on a frying pan.
Is this just another step on the road to musical cynicism? Probably. But then someone like Reggie Watts comes along and blows your brain right out of its custom molded iPad style flip casing:
So we really can’t be sure. Until then, you better run better runnnn and all of that.
What a strange weekend. Sometimes it seems the earth woke up spinning the wrong way, a little bit too early, after eating 2 bags of Doritos for dinner and feels really dehydrated. There were signs saying “don’t leave the house!” and there were others saying “Get your ass out there!”
We began with a plan. The band I play with was supposed to travel to North Carolina, but it fell through for reasons beyond control. Such things happen. Recording was supposed to take place saturday afternoon, but a sudden blizzard descended upon the northeast, and made travel impossible. Lovely. But let’s focus on pre blizzard conditions.
I’m a huge Podcast enthusiast. I’d venture to say I’m one of the biggest podcast enthusiasts out there. For years and years, I’ve listened to everything I could get my hands on. Yes, This American Life and Radiolab, but also some non hipster shit. KCRW’s The Treatment, Chicago Public Radio’s Sound Opinions, Jesse Thorne’s The Sound Of Young America. There’s some great stuff out there, and it will make your commute fly by like one of those bullet trains now outlawed in several states due to environmental corruption regulations (I completely made that up.)
But the main show sweeping the nation and beyond, is WTF with Marc Maron. Maron, a stand up comedian, interviews all sorts of performers. Mostly comedians, some writers and actors. He’s so intriguing. It might be because so many creative type neurotic Jews identify with his tendencies, but he’s a fantastic interviewer. He not only asks exactly the questions you want to hear, but get’s to them in a way that doesn’t seem like some pretend journalist on an entertainment show. It’s a dark and disturbing show at one moment, and completely hilarious the next. He made Ira Glass erupt with high voiced anger. That alone is worth the price of admission.
So on Friday evening, we learned he would be at the Comedy Cellar, and figured what the hell. Its in a douchey neighborhood, probably filled with assholes, but we might get some laughs out of it, so why not. Its always tricky seeing someone you are so familiar with in one area fairly out of context. Yes, we know Maron made his name doing stand up, but the majority of people know him from his show. Well, whatever the outcome, we were in it, stuck at the very first table in the tiny basement that is the Comedy Cellar.
It was a typical night of standup, 5 performers and an MC, an experience I’m not at all used to. Jim Norton showed up and had some great moments. Others I can’t remember….did not. It’s really just like watching a musician, only with absolutely no protection. It’s far easier to hide behind an instrument. Play a few chords, if you don’t know what to do next, just make some noise, throw in a few extra notes. These guys have nothing. If you pause…it’s dead silence. That would terrify me more than anything.
Maron performed third, and seemed to be a little flustered. He had just gotten in an argument with another comic beforehand…which no one who listens to the show would be surprised at. But it seemed to throw him off a bit. A vein in his forehead looked like it was going to explode, and he kept making steady, direct, almost psychotic eye contact with me. This was noted by others around me as well. I had no idea what to do. Do you laugh? Do you just smile? Do you look uncomfortable and keep drinking your surprisingly not overpriced beer? Guess which one I chose.
But still, I was in it with him for the long haul. I want to see where it goes. And I mean, I kind of want it to be funny. It what looked like a millisecond of panic, he told his story of falsely beating mouth cancer. Yes it’s hilarious, but you have to figure, the show sold out most likely because of this guy. He has rabid fans, both of the show and of his stand up. He’s done this story both on the podcast, and Conan O’brien’s show. Maybe it seemed like the room was full of unfamiliar ears? We’ll never know. Look, you can even google Marc Maron Mouth Cancer and it comes up:
Is that how comedy works though? I really have no idea. Is that like a band playing a song on various media outlets a few times? Or are jokes a different animal altogether? Could it also be a product of this rapid availability of information? If someone were just on late night TV, you have the chunk of people who watch it live, but the majority had no idea it ever happened. But now, no one sees it live, it floats around on youtube, millions download the podcast….you have to know it’s out there!
Maron is kind of like the Nels Cline of comedy. Shows up out of nowhere later in his career, and is suddenly a hero. I wonder what kind of effect this has on one’s performance. You’ve been honing your craft for years only getting the occasionally spotlight, and suddenly, all eyes are on you. We all wonder how it will play out.
Sunday, through the magic of thegearpage.net crazy gear head message boards, I drove to Southern NJ and swapped my Swart Spacetone 6v6 for a Fender Deluxe Reverb Reissue. This went very smoothly, and would have been a fantastic journey, had I not become violently ill on the trip home. And let me tell you, if you’re going to get violently ill anywhere, I’d say a Honda Fit on the NJ Turnpike is probably at the top of anyone’s list. It’s a mad dash to the next rest stop, and those things are about 36 miles apart. Good thing I had some angry ranting Jews talking about literature and the downfall of American society cranking out the speakers. What a lovely way to end the week.
We all get discouraged from time to time, at the lack of amazing young songwriters. We troll the music blogs, hoping to hear something other than the frantic yell/sing dance type vocals, so watered down with reverb its like a white wine spritzer.
When historians look back at this generation, for the books they will write on some unforeseen invisible tablet type device, it is my opinion that they will focus on the technical prowess, rather than songwriting skills. Can you think of any truly beautiful songwriter type albums in the last 5 years, that weren’t overly produced/auto-tuned to tell (either for effect or necessity?) There are less than a handful.
So despite my traditionally Jewish and cynical outlook, I would like to talk about Dawes, their Webster Hall show last night, and how good it feels to know they are out there making music. This band is made up of 4 young dudes, the singer/guitar player and drummer are brothers, the drummer has a FANTASTIC afro, which bobs as he plays.
I heard about them a few years back on WFUV, at the time of their North Hills album. Something was said kind of like “here’s a new band, they recorded this album all together in the same room” which is always a lovely thing to hear. The single “When My Time Comes” is pretty much perfect. I don’t care if it’s a bit cheesy, I’m singing along to it, god damnit, and if you don’t like it, you can come back to Webster Hall on Halloween club night and catch chlamydia at a foam party.
So Webster Hall is an interesting venue. Its used most nights of the week as a dance club for underage guido/guidettes and the various shiny new jersey types. Occasionally Bowery Presents books shows there, and you can hear thumping bass from other rooms in the building. Lets start off with a few problems before we get to the music.
First, if you leave during the headlining band’s set, don’t expect to return to your spot. If you try to get through with 3 beers while wearing a backpack, I hope one of those lions from Ohio miraculously escaped capture, somehow made its way across the Ohio Tundra to New York, and bites off your dick. The problem with the live music experience is that you have to interact so closely with so many people you have no interest in being close to. Where is Steve Jobs to solve these problems, we truly need him.
But enough of my whining, let’s discuss the music. Blitzen Trapper opened. Some people love this band, some people also love unflavored rice cakes, because they’re not necessarily bad for you, and there are much worse things out there. All I’m going to say, is that someone needs to get Blitzen Trapper a metronome, and turn it to something other than 86bpm, ok?
Seeing Dawes, felt as though all of the well dressed and slightly annoying people in Webster Hall suddenly disappeared, a cool breeze began flowing, and an easily accessible bar without 8$ bud lights was lowered down. They were so fucking tasteful. Just four people, drums, bass, guitar and keyboards, with some lovely harmonies. No one threw too many notes out there, every solo was well placed, and the harmonies were like the ice cream sandwiches at the Meatball Shop.
The Goldsmith Brothers, on drums, guitar, and vocals are just so complimentary to each other. Griffin on the drums has this slightly nasal voice which fits so well behind the slightly gruff lead, kind of like the Graham Nash of the band.
What came through most though were the songs themselves. I had not heard about half the songs played, but still, the melody and lyrics carried weight. You could tell the songs meant something to Goldsmith (either that or he’s the world’s most convincing performer.) By the end of the set, his voice was a little shredded, but no one seemed to mind. Fantastic lyrics, delivered with sincerity and not too much flash, I was all about it.
The next show will probably be at Terminal 5 or something equally as cavernous, so if it is by chance a smaller venue…I encourage you to go, but also to buy tickets after I do, because lets be honest, as the great Rodney Dangerfield once said…we all need to look out for number 1, and don’t step in number two! (RIMSHOT!)
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