music

Gris-Gris

Gary Lucas — Tue, 08 Oct 2024 21:35:38 +0000

Gris-Gris Gary Lucas October 8, 2024 - 17:35

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I just finished David Toop's magisterial book, Two-Headed Doctor, all about the mysteries of Dr. John the Night Tripper's incredible first album, Gris-Gris. For my money, Malcolm "Old Mac" Rebennack (as my pal Vivian Stanshall referred to him) never made a better album--and it stands as a singular testimony to his love of N'Awlins Black musical traditions, voodoo legends and hoodoo jive, folklore, fake-lore, and the overall vibe which enshrouds the city like an impenetrable mist (especially post-Katrina, which was the last time I visited there with Peter Stampfel to work on a second Du-Tels album).

This is absolutely the best book about music and related literary and cultural ephemera I've read in years. The only music-related book that has given me such a frisson in the last few years was Mike Barnes's weighty book about Prog-Rock, A New Day Yesterday.

Parceling out reading David Toop's book every night in the wee wee hours over the last couple weeks before I visited dreamland, I did not want it to end--it's that good. Exceedingly well-written and erudite, I found David's scholarly research into all possible antecedents to this album fascinating and impressive (just when you think you know about a particular musical subject, you discover entirely new realms of information courtesy of Mr. Toop).

My relationship with the Gris-Gris album began upon hearing individual tracks spun on the free-form FM stations of the day back in the late '60s (esp. WAER in Syracuse and WBCN in Boston), which I found mystical, scary, and enchanting, especially when stoned, which I was most of the time :-)

Years later, after moving to NYC in 1977, I was driven by inner spirits, you could say compelled, to finally buy the vinyl (along with John Cale's Fear album the same day). Needless to say, I was not disappointed. The album still holds up in all its glory, particularly thanks to the fantastic, way-ahead-of-its-time production, co-writing, and playing of Harold Battiste and the soulful, immaculate contributions of some of The Wrecking Crew ("Pink Panther" saxophonist Plas Johnson especially), and Big Easy singing legends like Shirley Goodman and Tami Lynn.

ESSENTIAL READING.

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What Is This Thing Called Rock?

Gary Lucas — Thu, 07 Jul 2022 23:11:57 +0000

What Is This Thing Called Rock? Gary Lucas July 7, 2022 - 19:11

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In front of the MUSEO DEL ROCK in Catanzaro Calabria (note the Hebraic lettering)

Rock Museums are curious beasts. Cleveland's "Rock and Roll Hall of Fame" a case in point.

First off, in the whole history of this musical whatchacallit, the only white hot throbbing sub-culture / phenom that matters, it's always been quote ROCK 'N' ROLL unquote to any serious purveyor / adept of the genre. I mean, what is this "and" bullshit anyway?? "And" being a very, very weak sister of "'N".

But hey you can wiki the Cleveland RRHOF (actually situated at--get this--"1100 Rock and Roll Boulevard," oy!) only to discover that in some instances (like on their own website) they try to fudge the whole wail bone o' contention here and merely refer to themselves as the "Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame." Ampersand that!

"Let me whisper sweet words of 'pismatology and discuss the puppetuse of love," indeed (best line in the spoken word section of Vernon Green & the Medallions's epic "The Letter").

The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is let’s face it mainly about Money -- money made over the years for labels, managers, publishers and promoters, and is not exactly, ummm, artist-friendly…it's more about how many tables they can sell to labels with vested interests in whatever "worthy" they deem fit to induct.

And let's face, the Hall of Shame has NO TIME FOR BEEFHEART.

Despite Don Van Vliet's name coming up in the first few years of the Hall's inception as a worthy inclusion to its august ranks, as well it should have been considering Van Vliet's enormous contributions to single-handedly Changing the Face of Music as we know it with 1969's Trout Mask Replica and even earlier (wouldnae been an actual Punk Rock movement now would there without his pioneering bluesy Outsider aggression, going back to his very first single of '66 "Diddy Wah Diddy," and also 1967's groundbreaking Safe as Milk album) -- Beefheart never made the cut, go figure.

I have that on good authority from various music critics and industry folks who participated in the selection process for a couple years and then dropped out of the RockaRollaHalla in disgust. Whether Don's name comes up at all at this point is kind of moot.

I once tried lobbying Sire label supremo Seymour Stein -- one of the RRHOF's founders along with Jann Wenner -- about this up at Pop Montreal -- making the case for Van Vliet in reference to the reverence shown him by the first wave of Punk and New Wave avatars: John Lydon, Joe Strummer, David Thomas, The B-52s, DEVO, Nick Cave, etc -- also citing earlier Beefheart fans like Robert Plant, Ian Anderson, and Tom Waits, and also forwarding to Beef aficionados PJ Harvey, Jeff Buckley, and Jack White.

"All of them would tell you that Don Van Vliet should be inducted into the RRHOF now, Seymour! That's how heavy an influence the guy had on these artists!"

"Gary, Gary," Seymour replied, non plussed, "My friend Neil Sedaka's not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!! Now how do you think I feel about that??"

Anywho...imho (the only POV that matters for the nonce -- otherwise why are you bothering to read this?), the Real Deal Rock 'n' Roll Museum is located not in Clevo, but in the heart of Calabria Southern Italy -- in the capital city of Catanzaro to be precise.

There you will find the MUSEO DEL ROCK in all its glory -- a splendid shrine to the unholy musical rites du sauvage, a pagan temple to all things lewd, pulsating, transgressive, marginal, and (dare I say) fascinating about this thing called Rock.

I mean, imagine an entire wall devoted to cracked lunatic poet SYD BARRETT, original founding member of Pink Floyd.

Imagine an entire wall devoted to CAPTAIN BEEFHEART. And a whole wall devoted to THE MOVE. Also MOBY GRAPE…

And on and on into cult artist heaven (not neglecting the acknowledged heavyweight champeens on the order of yr Beatles Stones and Dylan of course et al)…

"We Italians love what you call 'damaged artists,'" the be-earringed Museuo Del Rock curator confided to me when I gaped in astonishment at the cult-ish sonic wonderment enshrined / festooning the walls of this joint.

And how did this master of the Museo assemble such a magnificent collection? I mean, they had Dylan artifacts on display on the order of original lyrics from Bob's white-hot early '60s heyday jotted down on a torn bit of motel stationery.

"Well, the civic fathers of Catanzaro gave me a budget," he smiled. "And I went all over the globe on a rock shopping spree, basically."

I'll say!

So you the reader, if you have even the slightest love of rockrockrocknroll, have to go. Leaving the lovely port city of Gioia Tauro, and driving up the wild coast of Calabria, with pounding ocean on one side of the narrow highway and decaying, crumbling castles perched high up in the mountains on the other side, is worth the price of the journey alone.

If you think you know Italia…you ain't seen nothing like Calabria.

And if you think you know ROCK…

True confession: I played my heart out giving an intense sweaty solo concert at the Museo Del Rock a couple years ago with my Calabrian rock star pal singer Jack Vee a/k/a Emilio Sorridente and his band sitting in at the close.

The Museo had just brought legendary UK drummer / scenester Twink in there (a member of Pretty Things and the Pink Fairies amongst other psychedelic beat combos du jour). Jack and I did a bunch of Lucas / Buckley tunes and in honor of Syd a medley of "Astronomy Domine / Interstellar Overdrive" at the close. The audience ate it up. I was so honored to play there.

Afterwards, the thin,white-haired City Fathers / Keepers of the Keys to the Museo took me to dinner outdoors in a lush green grotto. We sat at one long picnic table under fairy lights -- and one Calabrian specialty after another was served up for my delectation throughout the long evening -- along with a selection of the finest local and regional wines (I'm a tee-totaller, but I tasted them all!) -- a real Feast of Friends.

It was one of the best nights of my touring life.

And I can't wait to come back to play in Italy!

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A Lost Way of Listening

Robert Cochrane — Tue, 28 Sep 2021 21:48:42 +0000

A Lost Way of Listening Robert Cochrane September 28, 2021 - 17:48

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God Is In The Radio: Unbridled Enthusiasms 1980-2020 (Omnibus Press)

by Barney Hoskyns

Over the past four decades Barney Hoskyns has been a consistent chronicler of music, an arbiter of taste and a beacon of consistency. He writes with the passion of a true fan and the discretion of an astute critic. A perfect amalgam of the heart and the soul. This appositely entitled compendium of his musings. borrowed from The Queens Of The Stone Age, God Is In The Radio - Unbridled Enthusiasm is fifty pieces culled from forty years of sifting and discerning. Both an Aladdin's cave for the curious and a benchmark for the already initiated, it cuts through the years with an incisive enthusiasm as a crash course on the pitfalls and joy of the music industry. Hoskyns is equally at home writing of Frank Sinatra and Television. Steely Dan to Mary J Blige. Music to him is a universal force and categories are there to best ignored. Quality is paramount, and despite the variety of sounds he presents his readers with, they do not jar when collected under a single cover. A deft act in itself.

As a guide to appreciation he is the perfect scribe. Of that generation when music was a physical thing, something to be sought out, discovered and pondered over, his book is also an elegy to a disappearing way of listening. The digital age has reduced appreciation to a verbal demand. Evenings spent engrossed in album sleeves and the small print on 45s, the design of record labels and covers, are no longer a unifying experience. The presence of music is now a small speaker in the corner. Vinyl and compact discs are stored away in attics or cellars or given to charity shops, deemed as the physical clutter they sadly represent to a clinical mind. The relationship most now have with music is a fleeting one, new songs played as background, or listened to on phones. Like fine art reduced to a photocopy, something has been lost. A death of passion is evolving. If sex was a listening thing it would be a far less beguiling experience.

Hoskyn's passions are deep and committed. The title of the book encapsulates the loss. Before we were chained emotionally to keypads, the aural glimpse of a song from a radio, the waiting for something to arrive was enough, was all and was sufficient. It became something akin to possession and had to be found. A quest would evolve. Journeys would be made to listening posts and record stores. The object was one of desire and there was a kind of love at play. A need to own a song. Now everything is uber available much of that almost religious passion has flown. Hoskyns is the embodiment of such a fervour; his articles are prayers, hymns and parables, be their subject Tom Waits, The Beach Boys, Sly Stone, or Stevie Wonder. He desires music as a life enhancing force, something to share and inspire. Something to live for.

This book is a guide for those who wish to listen. A chronicle from an evolving world where hearing has become a fleeting experience, his words make one want to commune with the artistic offerings of someone you know only through their songs, preferably alone in a darkened room, or to animatedly talk to friends about -- to share, discover or remember. Perhaps the tortured briefness of the lives and outpourings of Sandy Denny and Judee Sill, the wistful eloquence of Sufjan Steven, or the grunge dynamics of Nirvana. Read an article at random and then go and buy the album. This is a wonderful swathe cut through the rich world of records and discs. A perfect bran tub of delights. Even as a download, this world of riches can still be yours.

A book that perfectly evolves, an air of suggestion, an index of rewarding possibilities.

An indication that passion yet remains.

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Album of the Week: Music From Big Pink

Dusty Wright — Fri, 14 Sep 2018 14:00:00 +0000

Album of the Week: Music From Big Pink Dusty Wright September 14, 2018 - 10:00

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The Band - Music from Big Pink (Capitol)

Can you imagine the shock waves that this album caused upon its release in 1968? At the height of the psychedelic rock era? Some critics have suggested that it spawned the "Americana" music movement. George Harrison and Eric Clapton even cited The Band and this album as steering their future careers via their/its "roots" sound. In fact, Clapton was so knocked out by them, he wanted to join them.

"I was given an acetate of Big Pink back in England and it shook me to the core," he said during a press conference at the Toronto International Film Festival to promote his doc, Eric Clapton: Life in 12 Bars.

"I was in Cream at the time with already the notion that it wasn't going in the right direction, and I thought, well this is what it is. I knew who (guitarist) Robbie Robertson was but I didn't realize that was their group. I thought they just appeared. I thought they were all from the Mississippi Delta."

Clapton even went as far as traveling to Woodstock to "jam" with The Band, but alas they were quite happy with Robbie on lead guitar. Clapton was so inspired that he wold quit Cream and begin his own solo career odyssey.

As far as debut albums, it doesn't get much better than this for any act. Certainly helps to have had the opportunity to tour, play and record with Bob Dylan prior to recording this masterpiece. The opening track, the epic and ragged love ballad "Tears of Rage," co-written by Dylan and Richard Manuel, sets the tone for what is to follow. It's easy to get lost in the ramshackle vibe and synergy that was created by Robbie Robertston (guitar), Rick Danko (bass, vocals), Richard Manuel (keyboards, vocals), Levon Helm (drums, vocals) and Garth Hudson (keyboards and accordion). John Simon's production has so much breathe that you feel like you're literally sitting in the middle of the studio. The new remix and remastering adds additional subtle tonal hues that draw the listener in. Their inter-band harmony vocals have never sounded more ragged or more beautiful. The interweaving of the keyboards, guitar, bass, and drums from song to song hangs together like master paintings inside a national art gallery.

Can you imagine what it must have been like hearing any of these songs on the radio back in the day? Robbie Roberston's beloved classic "The Weight" — a traveling song about Robbie visiting the Martin guitar factory in “Nazareth” Pennsylvania and written on a Martin guitar — has stood the test of time as one of the greatest songs ever committed to vinyl. And the album closes with two majestic Dylan tracks -- "This Wheel's on Fire" by Dylan and Danko and another Dylan timeless classic, the redemptive gospel-fueled ballad "I Shall Be Released." These two tracks, along with others on The Band’s debut, were born during The Basement Tapes rehearsals and recordings that gave birth to this majestic album.

It was no happy accident that Music from Big Pink would usher in a new sound. Moreover, it would be the first of many extraordinary albums they would record and share with the world. With the release of this remixed and remastered two-LP set on 180-gram 45 r.p.m. vinyl, Capitol may usher in a whole new generation of singer-songwriters, musicians, and bands to follow suit. Music should be inspirational, and music this well conceived and executed should continue to inspire and inform musicians and listeners alike.

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Fran Healy - The Dusty Wright Show

Dusty Wright — Thu, 02 Aug 2018 22:34:57 +0000

Fran Healy - The Dusty Wright Show Dusty Wright August 2, 2018 - 18:34

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Scottish singer-songwriter Fran Healy of Travis shares his personal life and loves with host Dusty Wright. This interview got lost in our archives and is finally available for consumption. It was recorded at Gibson Guitar Studios/NYC in 2010.

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Winning From the Heart

Robert Cochrane — Wed, 20 Jun 2018 14:00:00 +0000

Winning From the Heart Robert Cochrane June 20, 2018 - 10:00

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Tim Arnold: I Am For You (TA Records)

Something is happening for Tim Arnold and it isn't being bought by a huge publicity budget from a major label. He's been there done that and lost the t-shirt. An honest, simple and slowly developing vibe is catching the public's imagination via word of mouth and the sheer strength and beauty of his songs, and of one song in particular. Poverty always has been a mistress to invention and a good idea isn't reliant on cash. His latest album, a melodic sampler of emotion, longing and frustration, betrays a maturing talent that has finally arrived with a wonderful bottle of sparkling distillation to pour into the ears of the unsuspecting. Varied and sensual this is a record that won't disappoint. Integrity cannot be faked and here it shines through and effortlessly beguiles.

Proceedings begin with a wonderful piece of taped personal history. The eleven-year old Tim is being interviewed by his mother, the actress Polly Perkins, about writing and what drives him to be creative. That it has survived for over thirty years is astonishing but it is a perfect prelude and a prediction from the past of what he would do in a future here and now that has arrived. Touchingly called "Mother's Intuition," it flows easily into the gospel tinged "Love Will Not Hurt" a searing anthem with spiritual tinges. "Anybody's Guess" is a perfect Soho 60's postcard that begs, borrows and steals from the Zombies. The Small Faces and The Beatles to emerge strongly as itself. Harmonic and up-lifting the song stays in the mind. The title track "I Am for You" is a power ballad which kicks off with the thought "If time doesn't heal, don't think, only feel" -- a sage-like sentiment that isn't always the advice one wants in a situation of emotional crisis even if it is true. Dramatic, swirling and honest with a mantra like catchiness, impressive is a word that aptly explains its power. "Crying Colours" has the ache of uplifting lamentation that mirrors the bedsitter maladies of Cat Stevens and Al Stewart "I'm crying colours / turning tears to light" is spiritual, visual and just beautiful in the saddest of ways.

"365 Days Of Love" appears as an infectious perfectly laconic scene changer, just what is required before melancholy takes over the mood entirely, possessed with a psych pop sensibility and echoes of Paul McCartney in its deceptive lightness of touch. "Won't Fall For You" reveals a piano and guitar moodiness, the kind of song Coldplay often ruin with a mundane set of lyrics. A perfect promise of a longing lover's intentions it swirls and swoons and grows into a mini epic. "I Know By Heart" reminds me of the aching ballads of Tom McRae, a sparkling little gem that is all too swiftly over, whilst "Paris" borrows the conceit of Peter Sarstedt's "Where Do You Go To My Lovely" without the monotony. It lists all the best things that the city of art and romance promises but bows out with the line "It's what you take to Paris with you." Sometimes honesty can be clever without being smart.

"Change" is the piano under-pinned treasure of mood and refinement somewhere towards the end. Think Jobriath's "Inside" or the laments of Bill Fay. "The hardest goodbye I'll ever say is the one that will kill you if you walk away..." and you know Arnold means what he sings because he has lived it. The video is a stark piece of dramatic artistry. Simply the face of the legendary dancer and performance artist Lindsay Kemp portraying the words of the song in stark monochrome it is the most haunting, beautiful and profound piece of subdued eloquence. Brave and true with an unsettling element oozing from each and every frame, it isn't by any imagination's stretch a piece of standard pop fare. "Love Locked" has an upwards stride to its rock tinged drive, a radio friendly tune that should win friends and influence people and echoes the pained introspection of Jeff Buckley, a punch of need and desire with the knowing wink and confidence of a crowd pleaser.

With "What Love Would Want" Tom Arnold reveals that he has kept the best 'til the last and that simplicity defeats complexity. It has a slow and certain, almost hidden rage that is rooted in frustration, passion and confusion:

"From my door the barriers you see I never saw.

In my mind you talk about a problem I can't find."

A sheer hymn of modernity and acceptance the song that has taken on a life of its own as a project of projection and poise. Couples turn up at events to be photographed becoming a backdrop to the song's evolution. Stephen Fry and his husband appear fleetingly in the song's video. There is no barrier to the couplings, they are simply paired and in love, and of all ages. The lyrics "He is for she. She is for he, He is for he. She is for she." raises from a slow angry growl to a pained yelp for impassioned understanding. Arnold finds the world that nurtured him is under threat and he doesn't quite understand the hatred and the fear. He was raised by his mother in her same-sex relationship and her world gifted along to her son was inclusive, moral but non-judgemental on something as fundamental as sexual orientation.

And at the end we return to the beginning. Tim Arnold has finally answered his mother's gently probing questions about his burgeoning creativity with assurance and grace. You can't ask for more, but more is yet to come because he has stumbled upon a Pandora's Box that reaches the heart of anyone in touch with theirs, and has the songs to reach beyond his initial spark of creation to help him along the way. A song won't change the world but it will sweeten the experience of those that stop and take the time to listen.

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A Simplicity Sublime

Robert Cochrane — Tue, 19 Jun 2018 14:00:00 +0000

A Simplicity Sublime Robert Cochrane June 19, 2018 - 10:00

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What Love Would Want

Lindsay Kemp, Tim Arnold & Andy Fallon

The Bridgewater Hall, Manchester, UK

17th June 2017

Subtitled "A Private View" on the ticket What Love Would Want is a majestic creation, a perfect collision of artfulness and honesty. Spread over the entire day and based upon a song of that name by Tim Arnold it is a project that has a universal directness that only requires people in love. In the afternoon they arrive to be photographed by Andy Fallon whose shots have a profound intimacy, and filmed by Tim for inclusion in a new video specific to the Manchester participants. There is no gender specific requirements, and in many cases when facing their respective partners tears are shed. From humble origins it has grown and mutated into major events in London and Toronto, and now Manchester. It will continue to evolve because it is a limitless, endless task, a project that could take root and flourish anywhere. There is a 1960's optimism to its ethos, but it isn't mawkish or twee. Its roots are what makes us tick, get up in the morning and cross continents for that basic need for, and to see another person. The portraits speak of that great intangible emotion and tenderly exposes the subjects and their needs.

The work of the afternoon over, the evening begins with Tim Arnold singing his song. A man alone on a huge stage with touching epic ballad with the most non-judgemental simplicity. "He for She. She for He? He for He? She for She?" and on the screen behind him the portraits of the day flash by. He then performs it again but this time with pianist Emmanuel Vass whose technique lifts and swirls with refined classicism, as the Manchester Lesbian and Gay Chorus elevate the proceedings to near monumental pathos. It is all being recorded and filmed so a second take is required but by this point the audience is transfixed and transported and are only too glad to have a third hearing.

Then comes the fourth rendition and this is where a touch of genius arrives and soars in expressive grace in the form of the performance artist and dancer, and early mentor of David Bowie and Kate Bush, Lindsay Kemp. Resplendent in all white costume and face make-up he resembles a Kabuki androgyne with outstretched elongated arms he glides and smoothly contorts becoming the sentiment implicit in the song. As the lights change he is a golden figure of a gracefulness divine, an astonishing feat for an eighty year old and the nearest thing to exquisite I have witnessed in a long while. All too soon the song has ended and Kemp dissolves into the darkness and a moment of pure magic has flown.

Afterwards there is a "Question and Answer" session. Kemp is a walking anecdotal treasure trove. From performing Salome bedecked in toilet roll as there was a shortage of veils at his boarding school, a caper that nearly saw him expelled, or doing his cabaret routine half a century ago between bouts at a wrestling match in Manchester he could do an Evening With no problem. His right eye-brow should really have it's own Equity Card as it raises above a symphony of glances and pursed pouts. Tim Arnold speaks movingly about being brought up by his lesbian mothers and about wanting to sing "What Love Would Want" at the Chechen border, a country that has gulags for gay people, before he is advised by the actor Stephen Fry that such an act will likely see him shot on sight.

And so it ends with huge bunches of flowers for the participants, but these are immediately dwarfed by an enormous bouquet, a mini hedgerow of blooms that is presented to Lindsay Kemp who is momentarily startled. They are from his former pupil and collaborator Kate Bush. He does a brief mime of delight. A perfect ending, and one that couldn't be scripted in a night that briefly gives us hope about ourselves and the power of love. As soon as I step through the doors of the Bridgewater Hall I am immediately accosted by a homeless man and the bubble almost burst as it sometimes does. I gave him my change and he was full of thanks, so the love of the evening crept into the night for someone who hadn't been there, but required just a little of its continuing love.

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15-60-75 One-Take - "Wolf"

Dusty Wright — Thu, 30 Jan 2014 21:43:57 +0000

15-60-75 One-Take - "Wolf" Dusty Wright January 30, 2014 - 16:43

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The legendary NE Ohio aggro-blues outfit 15-60-75 (aka The Numbers Band) perform "Wolf" at a private soundcheck before a rare NYC gig. Dusty Wright's One-Takes are live performances from artists you know, should know, or will know soon enough.

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Jay Stolar One-Take - "Wade"

Dusty Wright — Sat, 04 Jan 2014 23:03:04 +0000

Jay Stolar One-Take - "Wade" Dusty Wright January 4, 2014 - 18:03

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NY-based singer/songwriter Stolar is my pick break-out artist for 2014. Watch this soulful new song not found on his critically-lauded debut More Than We Think. One-Takes are live performances from acts you know, should know, or will know soon enough.

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The Flaming Lips One-Take - "Feeling Yourself Disintegrate"

Dusty Wright — Tue, 12 Nov 2013 10:58:26 +0000

The Flaming Lips One-Take - "Feeling Yourself Disintegrate" Dusty Wright November 12, 2013 - 05:58

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The Flaming Lips rehearse "Feeling Yourself Disintegrate" at SIR Studios in NYC prior to the Tibetan House Benefit Concert in 2011. Dusty Wright's One-Takes are live performances by acts you know, should know, or will know soon enough.

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