Music Review

The Unquiet Grave of Jim Morrison

Gary Lucas — Thu, 12 Dec 2024 19:22:07 +0000

The Unquiet Grave of Jim Morrison Gary Lucas December 12, 2024 - 14:22

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I took this photo of Jim Morrison's grave on a visit with Caroline Sinclair to Cimetière du Père-Lachaise in Paris in June 2022.

I grew up loving The Doors, and their music still moves me. (Never did get to see them, dammit!). But I was an old friend and former colleague at CBS Records of Jim's widow, the late Patricia Kennealy-Morrison, and once backed her when she read from some of Jim's unpublished erotic poetry at a tribute to Jim held at the Bowery Poetry Club, which also included my old friend Lenny Kaye.

My best Doors story, though, concerns Jim's grave.

In August 1997, I was staying in Paris, working on some new songs with French pop star/actress Elli Medeiros, who lived a stone's throw from Père-Lachaise. One day, I decided to head over there (the boneyard) and pay my respects to Jim at his graveside.

Arriving at the Cemetery Gates, I scanned a map hanging on a wall nearby that indicated the locations of the most famous celebrity graves (and there are tons of famous dead people buried there—including Edith Piaf, Simone Signoret, Isadora Duncan, Max Ophuls, Maria Callas, Michel Legrand, Marcel Marceau, Oscar Wilde, Chopin, Moliere, Proust, Colette, and Sarah Bernhardt—for starters).

But not knowing the layout of the cemetery, I had my doubts as to where exactly, according to this map, I would find Jim's grave. It was bloody confusing. Suddenly, a swarm of young boys and girls swept past me loudly, yelling and running pell-mell in a mad dash—there must have been at least 75-100 kids—all hell-bent on finding the grave of JIM.

I knew instinctively that all I needed to do was to follow them and they would lead me to it.

They did not disappoint. They knew EXACTLY where Jim Morrison was buried. And arriving at his plot below, they ringed his grave at least five kids deep, and I had to fight my way to the front of their ranks to catch my glimpse of the grave.

Now, who were these mysterious kids—this flock of kinders out for a gander at the graveside??

Turns out the then Pope John Paul II had flown into Paris that very morning from Poland with hundreds of young followers in tow to cheer him on at a big convocation the following day in Paris:

And the first thing these fine young Catholic kids wanted to do once they got to Paris was to visit the grave of JIM MORRISON!!

(A good example of the Manichean Duality is here, in which the Profane conquers the Sacred. Or viewed from another angle, the triumph of the spirit of Dionysus over the spirit of Apollo.)

Whether or not these kids had the blessings of the Pope in their group activity, I do not know.

But I kind of doubt it.

Written on the 81st anniversary of the birthday of Jim Morrison (Dec. 8th, 1943).

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Timelessly Timely

Robert Cochrane — Sat, 07 Dec 2024 22:24:53 +0000

Timelessly Timely Robert Cochrane December 7, 2024 - 17:24

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dream pop

POPPYCOCK - Magic Mothers (Tiny GLOBAL Productions CD & Vinyl)

Good things come to they who wait, and the wait for Poppycock's debut has been so long, that at times it seemed unlikely that the expectations would ever be fulfilled. The brainchild of former original Fall member Una Baines, the band operate in a folk and indie ethos, with a sprinkling of jazzy blues. Feminist and reflective, they hark back to a time when pop had educational aspects, providing food for thought. Subtle and challenging they have delivered a strangely shrewd and inspiring collection. Melodic, quirky and with references so varied, the album operates in its own time zone, though it could have arrived in any decade since the sixties. Their wonderful slab of ironic adulation, the single "Iggy Pop," though absent here, was a perfect indication of what would await within Magic Mothers. A pop song about a pop star. Pop goes the easel!

Magic Mothers strolls into view with "Let It Out." It's a madrigal of reflective grace, a gossamer, silken song of immense elegance and power. A hymn to the elemental link to nature, to being a part of the planet, an urban or suburban weaving of threads.

"Primeval cry, the shrieking birth

The will to cherish, this precious earth

Let it out. time to let it out"

"Song For Jean" is blues with a North of England twist, an elegy of remembrance of dark satanic mills relocated to a New Orleans bar. Poignant and assured.

"NDE" or "Near Death Experience" presents a coy, tongue in chic, keyboard based piece of superlative sixties themed irony. Best revealed by the repetition of the line "The day my keyboard exploded." Pop irony with a wry smile. Within "Lizardman" there's a throbbing sense of menace, an almost gothic feel in the bass line, and the searing organ motif. It has a hypnotic mantra-like ethos.

"Gaslighting" presents an elegant sense of challenge and defiance in a casually laconic, melodic setting.

"Gaslighting

I'm not biting

You can't rewrite my history

Trying to persuade me

You never hurt me"

In "Trinity" there's a strummed Velvet Underground aspect lacing the challenging lyric, melody and malevolence combine. An influence Baines rightfully earned from the days when her band The Blue Orchids were Nico's backing band. There's a graceful folk element that gifts the song a timely timelessness.

"Virgin/ Mother/Hag

Washing your ancient rag

Seed/Fruit Leaf

Banish the ancient thief"

"Hel" is a starkly faltering and honest song. A prayer and a plea for better things and kinder times. It's a cross between Laurel Canyon wistfulness and tranquil Glastonbury mellowness, but with an urban edge.

"A good man I used to know

ended his life one day

He wanted what must of us want

A world where there'll be fair play."

"Magic Mothers" has a sassy angry vibe in sync with a persistent but catchy drum beat, it packs a solid rhythmic punch, with an unflinchingly direct lyric, and a strangely unsettling keyboard motif.

"I Am a Feminista. I am your sacred Sister

No Means No! Stop means Stop!

You mutter. I utter. You mutter.

I utter. You Mutter. I utter."

"Iron Age Dance" is tremendous. It's a funk, punk and jazz collision with rap--a mixed up sermon in a variety of languages, a collage of reflective musings. Beat poetry and found conversations. A perfect curtain closer.

Magic Mothers wears a pastoral sensibility in an concrete and tarmac setting; the grit that creates a pearl. Here's hoping that we won't have as long to wait for a sequel, but for now languish in the pleasure of a uniquely inspired tapestry of thoughtful delights.

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A Correspondence Revisited & Resumed

Robert Cochrane — Thu, 05 Dec 2024 23:31:09 +0000

A Correspondence Revisited & Resumed Robert Cochrane December 5, 2024 - 18:31

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new wave

PETER GODWIN The Polydor Years (SFE/Cherry Red)

By the time singer-songwriter Peter Godwin formed Metro with the late Duncan Browne, it was 1976, and they were late, last-gasp arrivals of the kind of sartorial Glam embodied by David Bowie, Bryan Ferry, and John Howard. Their debut is mannered, eloquent, and sophisticated, flagrant defiance for the rising hordes of gob-fuelled sneers from the rise of the Punk evolution.

David Bowie covered their "banned by the BBC" single "Criminal World" on Let's Dance. It was considered too risqué on account of its theme of sexual ambiguity. Browne departed after the first album to pursue a successful solo career, whilst Godwin, not a man to admit defeat, steered Metro into a thin tie and suited New Wave/Art Rock combo that produced two further superlative albums and a handful of sought-after singles, including the classic "America In My Head." He disbanded the group as the new decade began; they bowed out via a gig on Valentine's Day. 1981, at the Rainbow in London. Depeche Mode and Ultravox were also on the bill. Godwin would pursue his own solo ambitions, signing to Polydor Records later that year.

Although usually labeled as "Electro-Synth," Godwin transcends that lazy categorization. Of course, there are several elements of accuracy, but his bittersweet lyrics betray worldly darkness, glass shards in the glitter, as deployed in the single "Emotional Disguise."

"Too many love affairs that didn't turn out right

Too many battlegrounds and tears that end in fights

A mirror shattered by the pain that's in your heart

A close embrace that made us feel apart"

Godwin remembers: "One night in Manhattan, 1983, the legendary Jellybean Benitez invited me and Madonna and Ralf Hutter (from Kraftwerk) to The Funhouse for a Godwin soiree featuring 'Emotional Disguise' spun back to back in all its versions. Jellybean's favorite of mine, and we watched the kids from the Bronx breakdancing to it. It was so surreal!"

There's a distinctly European flavor to Godwin's debut album Dance Emotions, released in 1982. It is a strange hybrid of songs that could be from a sadly imaginary Parisian noir movie that smacks of Kraftwerk on Prozac. His debut single, "Torch Songs For The Heroine," was produced by Midge Ure and has a catchy gloominess. The rest of the affair was diligently overseen by Georg Kajanus (Eclection/Sailor/Data). It remains a perfect catwalk calling card that exemplifies its times whilst effortlessly transcending them. There is also a wonderful plethora of remixes as bonus tracks gathered together for the first time in a punishment of gaudy riches.

1983 saw the release of Correspondence, again with Georg Kajanus at the controls. It is a dynamic affair I covered previously here, and needless to say, my positive review hasn't changed. "Baby's In The Mountains" remains a scintillating single, a floor filler still, aided and abetted by Carol Kenyon's astonishing vocal contribution. Epic, and then some. Again, a copious abundance of remixes as additional material bolsters this overdue arrival in the digital age. The songs still provoke the urge to boogie. A sense of Studio 54 and poppers in the air.

Frustratingly, it was to be Godwin's final release for many years. In the interim, he has seldom been idle, having acted, produced other artists, and collaborated with Steve Winwood on two albums. A new project, RE/GENERATION with Leah Lane of Rosegarden Funeral Party, betrays that he has lost none of his stylistic edge.

In a world where more seems never to be sufficient, The Polydor Years confirms the value of a selective creative approach. A perfect artifact from a time worthy of recall, it arrives afresh to inspire, entertain, and beguile with refreshed relevance.

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At The End of the Day It's All A Boom-Crack-Boom, Innit?

Gary Lucas — Mon, 25 Nov 2024 15:27:43 +0000

At The End of the Day It's All A Boom-Crack-Boom, Innit? Gary Lucas November 25, 2024 - 10:27

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celeb obit

I just heard the news of the untimely passing of the great drummer, programmer, and producer Keith LeBlanc from an unspecified illness last April. I am really, really saddened by this—I didn't get the memo till just now!

Keith was a great friend back in the day. I hung out alot with him, Doug Wimbish and Skip McDonald (basically, the Sugarhill Gang) in their loft on 14th Street off 7th Avenue in the early '80s—and I put a few of their records out on vinyl mixed by my pal dubmeister extraordinaire Adrian Sherwood (Fats Comet's "Stormy Weather," a Mark Stewart + Maffia compilation, Che's "Be My Power Station") through the indie label Upside Records, who I was doing A&R for part time.

Keith, Skip, and Doug encouraged me to really start writing and playing on my own steam after Don Van Vliet (Captain Beefheart) quit music for a career as a full-time painter—and Keith and Skip helped organize my first ever first studio recording made under my own name, "King Strong"—recorded and mixed at Unique Studios in midtown back in 1985.

Keith did all the drum programming as well as playing live drums on the track, which also features my two bassists of that time, Jared Michael Nickerson and Paul Nowinski. He even was in Gods and Monsters for a short spell--I recall a live gig we did at the old Knitting Factory on Leonard Street. I think the track came out spectacularly well thanks to Keith’;s visionary touch, and it got played alot back in the day on WFMU, WNYU, and other college stations simply off cassette copies I circulated. Eventually in 1992 the track finally appeared on CD, closing my album Gods and Monsters (Enemy Records, which received a 4-Star Review in Rolling Stone)—and it is also on my recent double CD best-of album The Essential Gary Lucas (Knitting Factory Records).

Keith was a real creative force of nature. He hit the drums harder than anyone I knew, as well as becoming a total master of sample drum programming. The heavy sampled drum sounds he and Adrian came up with sound like sledgehammers to the brain, ICBM misses going off, or more appositely, like Roman rowing-masters beating out the pounding rhythms for galley slaves in a trireme bound across the Mediterranean for a naval engagement with the Spartans.

Keith was also blessed with a heavy sense of radical compassion for sufferers far worse off than the exploitative music biz sharks he and his loft mates were forced to swim with, in order to effect the release of their records, which he once described to me as "basically the news set to beats."

Certainly visionary tracks like Keith's masterpiece Malcolm X: No Sell Out—which samples Malcolm's voice taken from various forceful political speeches set off a storm of controversy, with much protest coming from American Black radio programmers who believed Malcolm would never have sanctioned use of his voice on what was essentially a hip-hop track.

In turn, Keith was eloquently defended by black music writer Nelson George, who wrote in Billboard:

"LeBlanc has done an amazing job of capturing the essence of Malcolm X's intellectual street raps, bringing this messenger's message to a new generation of listeners."

Malcolm's widow Betty Shabazz, aware of Malcolm's influence on the growing rap and hip-hop community, gave Keith permission to sample Malcom's voice on the track, and wrote in the liner notes to the Tommy Boy Records 12-inch:

"This recording documents Malcolm's voice at a time and space in history some nineteen or more years ago. Its meaning is just as relevant today as it was then. His belief is that people must constantly monitor behavior, refine goals, and direct their objectives to insure that the right to life and work is a reality. Ultimately, our goals should be peace and brotherhood. After all, the universe belongs to all its inhabitants."

Keith's work with former Pop Group firebrand Mark Stewart is even more radical, cutting-edge and avant-garde.

Listen to the sample and drum beat hellscape of "As The Veneer of Democracy Starts to Fade," which posits the ever-encroaching surveillance police state worldwide:

Keith once told me of a session he did with anarchist manager/recording artiste Malcolm McLaren, where Keith, ever the perfectionist, labored away for hours trying to achieve the perfect drum sound.

Eventually Malcolm sniffed: "At the end of the day, it's all a boom-crack-boom, innit?"

Keith was a heck of a lot more than a "boom-crack-boom."

Check out "You Drummers Listen Good" from his 1986 visionary solo album Major Malfunction to stare the future in the face.

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Even Better Than Remembered

C. Jefferson Thom — Tue, 12 Nov 2024 13:27:45 +0000

Even Better Than Remembered C. Jefferson Thom November 12, 2024 - 08:27

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soundtrack

Photo courtesy of the Seattle Symphony

While my genetic lineage predominately links me to Europe, many of the practices and traditions that move me originate from cultures that bear no resemblance to my DNA. For decades, I’ve had a wall in my home dedicated to the photos and remembrance of those who have departed from this world and remain with me in spirit. Naturally, when I became aware of the Mexican religious holiday of Dia de Los Muertos, it was immediately recognizable and deeply familiar. That being said, it should come as no surprise that the Pixar animated feature Coco is one of those rare films that chokes me up every time. Today, I live with a partner and two children who all come from Mexico, so this tradition and film have taken on new dimensions of meaning for me. Thus, when I learned there would be a live musical performance with a screening of Coco at Benaroya Hall, I eagerly attended with my partner and our ten-year-old daughter.

The structure of this event is simple enough: a large projection screen hovers above, showing the film and a live orchestra plays the corresponding soundtrack below. In this case, we were privileged to a performance of Orquesta Folclórica Nacional de México (The National Folk Orchestra of Mexico) under the direction of conductor Esin Aydingoz, all of whom were exquisite. The quality and precision of the accompanying orchestra were so seamless that one could easily be excused for getting sucked into the film and forgetting that the score they were hearing was being played live. However, if you were so inclined as to let your sightline dip below the silver screen, you were offered the very unique opportunity of watching the production process unfold before you.

I had never realized that the score for Coco contained so many parts for the harp. It is a simple revelation, but one that I won’t forget when I re-watch the film in the future. There was also a screen in front of the conductor that showed the running film along with some sort of numerical tracking system that broke up the score into different sections. I never figured out if it was related to measures in the music or a sort of chapter/scene in the story, but I found watching that in relation to what was happening on the big screen very fascinating. There was ultimately the overall advantage of hearing the music played live by such an astoundingly skilled orchestra. They had the structure; their playing was tight and without room for error, and, most importantly, they made the passion of the music sing through their instruments. Putting all that together with a movie I already love, it was a pure joy to vacillate between observing the process and just being absorbed into the film.

Upon leaving Benaroya Hall, it was clear that both my partner and I had a far greater appreciation for all we had just witnessed than our little girl. For her, I think it was more of watching a movie she likes in an unconventional setting, and she missed the popcorn or couch back home. I’ve told you what the experience was for me, but it was even more meaningful for my partner as she left with a renewed pride in her cultural heritage: the traditions, the rich history, and the mastery of this orchestra of fellow Mexicanos keeping it all alive in the present day. It was also clear that she was not alone, and it was exhilarating to feel that the celebration of Mexican pride rang so clearly for so many people, even in a city that is over one thousand miles away from the Mexican border. If Coco Live-to-Film comes our way again next Dia de Los Muertos, we will be there… this time in full Catrina makeup.

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Hats Off To Tim Berne!

Gary Lucas — Wed, 16 Oct 2024 14:22:45 +0000

Hats Off To Tim Berne! Gary Lucas October 16, 2024 - 10:22

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jazz

So proud of Tim Berne getting his due again in the New York Times with this new article.

I grew up friends with Tim and his entire family in Syracuse, and in 1985 got him signed to Columbia Records. They were looking for "New Age" music (haha), which is how I got him in the door.

I played the head of Columbia Records A&R department the intro to the first cut of an indie duo album Tim had recently put out with Bill Frisell as his sparring partner, which opened with a minute or so of languid acoustic guitar jazz chords in the clear (which sounded vaguely New Age-y).

The A&R guy started kibitzing, waiting for Tim to come in, hovering over the turntable in his office and chanting in a low whisper:

"Come on, Tim, Blow! Blow Baby, Blow!!"

Suddenly, after all this Frisell acoustic guitar loveliness, Tim comes in with a single wailing note--a cracked, strangulated, Ornette-ish cri de coeur.

The A&R guy winced--but gave me a budget--the princely sum of 5000 Iron Men, all-in, to record this album (oy!). But Tim had his foot in the door, and we were off.

This windfall enabled Tim to leave his day job at the late Tower Records on West 4th and Broadway, where many excellent musicians toiled in the vinyl vineyards trying to eke out a living in the greater New York area.

Tim turned in a spectacular album to Columbia titled Fulton Street Maul. It was recorded at Chick Corea's Mad Hatter Studios in LA, with Bill Frisell on guitar, Hank Roberts on cello, and Alex Cline on percussion.

I was the nominal producer, and my main contribution was instructing Nels Cline (who did the hands-on engineering/mic placement/mixing) to "Turn Up Frisell!" when we started mixing.

And also, writing the liner notes--a gallimaufry of surrealist stream o' consciousness pitter patter that opened with something like "Inside the glass, smoked...")--which was me trying to depict the experience of sitting inside the recording booth chain-smoking joints while peering out through the glass wall that looked onto the studio where all this phenomenal music was being created. The marketing guy read this as a reference to crack pipes (!) and tried to deep-six my liner notes.

As noted in this article, the album received terrific notice, with Jon Pareles giving it a rave review in The New York Times.

But did it click with the New Age audience?

'Fraid not--there being lots and lots of outside playing and usage of tritones ("The Devil's Interval") aplenty all over the album. Very strong and melodic heads, though--and then, psychedelic jazz-rock insanity.

Me? I thought it was the most exciting music I'd ever been involved with since my days playing with Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band.

HATS OFF TO TIM BERNE!

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Song of the Week: "Night Terror"

Ian Alterman — Sun, 13 Oct 2024 19:02:02 +0000

Song of the Week: "Night Terror" Ian Alterman October 13, 2024 - 15:02

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prog rock

He's ba-a-a-ack! In 2010, Dream Theater drummer and songwriter Mike Portnoy took a hiatus from the band, which he had helped found in 1985, for an unspecified period. Portnoy had long been considered one of the, if not the, greatest progressive metal drummers in the world (he also played in the progressive supergroup, Transatlantic, as well as almost every group and album produced by neo-progressive godfather, Neal Morse). He was replaced during his hiatus by Mike Mangini, who some feel is as good as or better than Portnoy (it is hard to tell in the world of drummers who use two bass drums and drum kits with 7,000 pieces…lol…but I prefer Portnoy's style over Mangini's).

The band released five albums during Mangini's time, though he was not involved in the actual writing process, as Portnoy had been. Still, at least one of those albums is among their top ten (and would make an excellent first-time-ever progressive rock Broadway musical).

Last year, Dream Theater announced that Portnoy would be returning and that a new album and tour would be quickly forthcoming. They weren't kidding. The tour is already set, beginning next week in London, starting in the U.S. in February 2025, and ending on March 2, 2025, at NYC's Radio City Music Hall. The album, tentatively titled Parasomnia, is due out early in 2025.

However, the band has just dropped the first track from the album, called "Night Terror," and they are in super-fine form. Filmed in a spooky house with each member in a different room, it is a perfect reintroduction of the original line-up of what is arguably the most influential progressive metal band other than Rush. Each member of the band is in fine form (guitarist John Petrucci in particular). And, of course, Portnoy is nothing short of amazing.

If the remainder of the album is anywhere near as good as this track, it is going to be a monster.

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Bobby and Gary

Gary Lucas — Sat, 14 Sep 2024 12:53:56 +0000

Bobby and Gary Gary Lucas September 14, 2024 - 08:53

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Grateful Dead

Rob Wasserman and Bob Weir

Some years ago (June 8th, 1999, OK), I played solo at the Bell Atlantic Jazz Festival, an event organized by the Knitting Factory NYC, down at the South Street Seaport. My tent was right next to Bob Weir's, who was with his trio (bassist Rob Wasserman and drummer Jay Lane).

While waiting to go on, my roadie, Bob Jacobson, went next door of his own volition and wangled an invitation from gracious Bob for me to sit in with him during his set on National Steel.

I went into Bob's tent to meet him. He was chilling, sitting there with a lady friend, sipping wine and looking very mellow and casual.

We talked a little about Beefheart. I told him I had my 1921 National steel with me, and he said, "Oh, bring that!"

Then he looked at me intently and said: "Do you know 'Friend of the Devil'"?

Hell, yes!

I know lots of 'em...

As the sun was setting, I joined his band onstage at the appointed time, and Bobby called a tune.

The problem is that he and his band were all going directly into the board—no onstage amplifiers—and all were wearing in-ear monitors—all except for me.

Meaning when they started playing, there was pretty much zero sound onstage, as there were no onstage monitors. The band all had a perfectly great mix going on in their ears. All that I could hear from where I sat was the vague plinkety-plunk of electric instruments being fingered and plucked on dead unresonant strings, keyboard keys being poked soundlessly, and drums being thumped dully, with a vapor trail of vocals hanging over the seemingly bloodless disembodied, some might say funereal proceedings.

All of the mighty band's music was projected directly at the large crowd, pumping out of the PA speakers which were, of course, in front of us, the band. The stage sound was non-existent, if not atrocious.

I had to twist in my chair and strain to hear what damn key the song was in! I grabbed onto what I thought were the relative chords and hung on for dear life, picking and grinning and sliding my glass bottleneck with all my might up and down the neck, praying I was in the right key. I got through it ok with no apparent gaffes—PHEW!!

The audience cheered at the end. I got up to leave—and amiable Bob called after me:

"Hey, man! Where you goin'?? Come on back here!!"

Which I did.

And I played four more songs with him, somehow…

The moral being—You Gotta Fake It 'Til You Make It 😄

For weeks, I felt some reverberations in NYC stemming from this guest spot with Bob.

I'd be walking down Houston Street in front of the Knitting Factory, and a random street freak across the road would holler after me and punch his fist in the air:

"HEY DUUUDE! BOB WEAHHHHHH!!"

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playing w/ bobby weir trio in '99

i was at this show. great story!... bobby was 'chilling w a lady friend' and asked if you knew friend of the devil... can't beat that! and here's the setlist memorialized at ratdog.org for your viewing pleasure.... best, gh https://ratdog.org/setlists/1999

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How German Is It

Gary Lucas — Wed, 11 Sep 2024 13:04:11 +0000

How German Is It Gary Lucas September 11, 2024 - 09:04

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Kraftwerk

A SAUCERFUL OF SECRETS: Nicked saucer from a TEE train on a journey from Paris to Amsterdam in 1978

KRAFTWERKEN: I first heard the industrial strength anthem "Trans-Europe Express" wafting over the PA before Iggy Pop went on (with David Bowie on piano) at the Berkeley Community Theater on April 17th, 1977. What a revolutionary year that was for new music—esp. Punk and Reggae—but this was SOMETHING ELSE: an earworm-doomy, Germanic, hypnotic; what WAS that?? The clickety-clack propulsive percussion drives it along like a stagecoach to Valhalla, and the Wagnerian arpeggiated stacked minor key chords give it an iconic, endless feel (like announcing a—gulp—Neu Thousand Year Reich). These guys are volk-artist Pioneers of Ingolstadt—pace Fassbinder—harbinger heralds of a Brave New Welt. "And looking very relaxed, Arthur Schopenhauer and Friederich Nietzsche on vibes":

A few months later, my first wife, Ling Ling Kee, and I had relocated from SF to the greener pastures of NYC, specifically the West Village, and were up in Central Park grazing in the grass.

Suddenly, a squadron of young black kids on bicycles came tearing down the drive that snakes through the park, BLASTING this track on boomboxes slung over their bikes' handlebars. There was that song again!!

Later that afternoon, I visited the cool Discorama Record Store on Bleecker Street between 6th and 7th Ave. down the road from where we were sub-letting and scored a vinyl copy of Kraftwerk's Trans-Europe Express album on Capitol as a cut-out for a mere $1.97! I was in heaven--and that album quickly became part of our soundtrack of Summer '77 (along with the first Clash album on import, the first Modern Lovers album, the first two Ramones albums, the Live at CBGB's double album with Mink Deville, Talking Heads '77, Jonathan Richman's first two solo albums, etc).

Flash forward to 1989, and I'm on tour in Germany, culminating right around Xmas with three nights solo at East Berlin industrial concrete squat the Tacheles (freezing! They had to heat it with hoses that spewed pre-heated plumes of air). The audience looked like the zombies from Night of the Living Dead, all bundled up from the cold but comatose, and they seemingly did not move a muscle while I played.

Finishing my engagement, I took the Deutsche Bahnhof train from Berlin to the Central Station in Amsterdam to play a concert at the Patronaat Haarlem—a journey of about 8 hours across Germany into the Netherlands. I whiled away the time reading and playing chess on a magnetic board with a young German while the scenic landscape rolled by. Arriving in Amsterdam, I took a cab directly to the club, set up, and waited to go on.

When I finally hit the stage at about 11 pm, I opened with a solo guitar version of "TEE," which I'd figured out in the dressing room—and segued into my version of "Autobahn."

I was exhausted but played my heart out for the Dutch fans.

Sheer bliss…

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McGuinn Takes Us On a Trip Upon His Magic Swirling Ship

Jon Geffner — Mon, 02 Sep 2024 19:51:01 +0000

McGuinn Takes Us On a Trip Upon His Magic Swirling Ship Jon Geffner September 2, 2024 - 15:51

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folk rock

Roger McGinn

Space at Westbury, NY

I knew going into Roger McGinn’s show at the Space at Westbury that McGuinn was a great singer/songwriter and virtuoso guitarist but I found out that night that the was something else as well—a masterful raconteur. His show was more of a one-man show than a concert in the traditional sense. Similarly to Bruce Springsteen’s Broadway residency, it was an oral history of his life and times with his iconic songs interspersed more or less chronologically to fit the narrative. He gave the audience insight into his influences and his songwriting process and regaled us with amusing anecdotes of those he encountered along the way—Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Pete Seeger (of whom he did a hilarious impression), Bobby Darin, Tom Petty, Peter Fonda, and of course his Byrds bandmates David Crosby, Gene Clark, and Chris Hillman. And, natch, the songs were glorious: "Mr. Tambourine Man," "Turn! Turn! Turn!," "Mr. Spaceman," "Eight Miles High" (a real guitar de force), "Ballad of Easy Rider," "Chestnut Mare," and more.

The songs were performed solo with all of the great guitar arrangements—on acoustic guitar, banjo, and of course the famous Rickenbacker—that we have come to know and love. It was amazing how McGuinn filled the room with sound. He is not so much a solo performer as a one-man band. At 82, Roger McGuinn is at the top of his game. Sometimes when one goes to see a legend in concert it can be like seeing a dusty old museum piece. And, with the stage set-up, with the guitars lined up and the plants, it looked as though that could be the case with McGuinn. It was anything but. McGuinn is no mere legend. He’s an American icon. If his tour brings him anywhere near your town, I highly recommend that you go and see him. You’re welcome.

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Roger McGuinn

I have been listening to Roger's and the Byrds' music since I heard them as a 12 year old in 1965. Turn! Turn! Turn! captured me and remains my favorite recording of all time. I saw Roger's show twice this year in Saratoga, CA and Torrance, CA and could barely contain myself. His effortless guitar playing without the drama of a Neil Young performance is simply a treat for the ears, heart, and soul. Those of us from that '60's era still marvel at the quality of their music. And we continue listening because there's been nothing better since. At 82, he's lost nothing of his skillset and will not disappoint. His wife, Camilla, who sells CDs at intermission and after the show is also such a warm and generous person. See him absolutely, if you have the chance. Legends like Roger are rare and someday he may actually think about retiring!