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Music of the Day- March 15

MUSIC OF THE DAY- March 15- Day of Dad

My father, Hayden Dryden, was born on this day in 1932. He was a good man, a kind and patient man, but he was also a musician. He was a damn good trumpet player and educator who gigged every weekend, so we could have the things that his elementary school teaching salary couldn’t always provide. I am a musician because of him. I am a damn good musician because of him. I have a really good ear and knowledge of musical history because of him. So, I’m going to write about some music he hipped me to throughout the years that made me a better musician and a better man. So here goes, Pops….

Franz Josef Haydn-Symphony #94 in G Major, AKA The “Surprise” Second Movement

Dad played me music early on, and I was always amazed that Haydn was born in March of 1732 and Hayden was born in March of 1932. I didn’t think it was a coincidence when I was four years old, and I still don’t. This isn’t the version I grew up with, but my conductor and classical music friends can chime in on other versions. With classical music, especially with orchestral works, I’ve mostly been about the compositional elements rather than trying to figure out which version was the best or as historically accurate. Dad didn’t care about stuff like that, or least didn’t impress it upon me, so I don’t give a rat’s ass about whether this recording was done at the right frequency or in the right conditions or whether the musicians ate the same kind of mutton Haydn did.  Both Dad and I rebelled against some of our college music professors, and in his final weeks he heard and understood my grievances with a certain grad school class I had. This was one way we understood each other and something bigger than us.

Drydens are not to be fucked with, and neither was Haydn. This movement has a certain surprise to it. If you don’t know the piece already, turn it up loud and wait for it. Recently I was working on a Haydn Cello Sonata late at night and was wondering how I should play the Rondo movement. Did I have it up to speed? Was I getting it right? Dad spoke to me (no, I did not hear his voice, but I knew he was talking to me from beyond) and told me not to worry, that all I had to worry about making it musical. Of course, it opened up the piece to me in a revelatory way, and I understood Haydn on a much deeper level. It brought me so much joy.

This is why we play music, people. We get to communicate with the universe and with our loved ones because we can access that Big Unknown if we really want to.

Bela Bartok-Piano Music for Children– Bartok at the piano

You know you have a hip dad when you’re six years old and starting piano lessons and he gives you a book of Bartok’s piano music for kids. By exposing me (and technically, my sister) to stuff that was decidedly modern and 20th century, he got my ear attuned to dissonance. I think this early exposure to this type of harmony made me think of it as comfort music.

You also get to hear Bartok SPEAK here. My Hungarian is a little rusty, but I’ll let my more cultured friends have a crack at it. I’ve always been drawn to Balkan music, and I’m sure Dad had something to do with it.

Here’s Bartok with his son in 1928, forty-one years before the picture of me and dad.


Clifford Brown- Easy Living

Dad was a trumpet player, so when I was getting into jazz he told me, “If you’re going to learn jazz, you better know the greatest trumpet player ever.” I still can’t argue with that statement. There have been and will be more Brownie posts, but I’ll focus on this performance from 1953. Clifford was twenty-two but already had his voice and sound. This tune kind of became my parents’ theme song, so I’ll quote the lyrics here:


Living for you is easy living
It’s easy to live when you’re in love
And I’m so in love
There is nothing in life but you

I never regret the things that I’m giving
They’re easy to give when you’re in love
I’m happy to do whatever I do for you

For you maybe I’m a fool
But it’s fun
People say you rule me with one wave of your hand
Darling, it’s grand
They just don’t understand

Living for you is easy living
It’s easy to live when you’re in love
And I’m so in love
There’s nothing in life but you.


I didn’t learn the lyrics until a few years later when Toby Williams sang them with me. Thank you, Toby. Clifford captures the meaning of the song and tells you his own story at the same time, the way all jazz giants do.


Finally, but hardly the last thing Dad ever introduced me to (I can’t begin to fathom how much he gave me) is a famous piece by a famous Russian that has a lot of that non-diatonic harmony that is a warm blanket on a wintry day to my ears. Dad took me to see The Firebird Suite when I was eight or so, and it was pretty heavenly. We were up close, right side at the old Cabrillo College theater. Hayden co-founded the Santa Cruz Youth Symphony with the beautiful Craig Johnson, so I ‘m pretty sure he had a personal connection to the performance. I found his old record in the shelves when I was sixteen or so and wore it out.

This isn’t the Boulez version I thought we had, but it’s still Igor, dammit. This suite helped me get through adolescence by realizing that there was something bigger and better than high school and teenage angst. A lot of music did that for me, but Stravinky, like Debussy, sent me to ancient fields with flaxen haired ballerinas who actually liked me, unlike the girls at school. This is the power of music- that it can transport you, alter your mood, give you clarity and vision, and just make you a better person.

Just like my dad did for me.

Love you, Pops.






Music of the Day- March 1-15

MUSIC OF THE DAY- March 1- Artur Rubinstein- The Chopin Collection

Suffice it to say that this is one of the greatest pianists playing the music of one of the greatest composers for the piano. Rubinstein’s Chopin really hits me. There are no words for the beauty and passion here; you have to listen. Chopin revolutionized piano playing and composition, and he is worth knowing more about in case you already don’t. You can look up Rubinstein here. They were both rock stars of their day, and you can hear the reasons why.

The Preludes and the Nocturnes are my favorites, although there is no Chopin that isn’t brilliant and beautiful. The Preludes were based on the tonal scheme of Bach’s Preludes and run the gamut of emotions. If you can, listen to the Nocturnes like I did one summer night in 1997, with the sound of a storm overheard swirling around the beautiful night music. Any sort of storm will work in any season, but it has to be dark out. You shouldn’t wake up in the morning to listen to the Nocturnes.

Ballades, Sonatas, Polonaises, Waltzes, Concertos, Etudes, Mazurkas, Impromptus, and so many more- this IS piano music. Spend the rest of your life with these recordings. They will never steer you wrong.


ALBUM OF THE DAY-March 2- John Coltrane- Transition

Picking Coltrane albums is like picking Duke Ellington or Beatles records- there are so many to choose from and one only has so many days in the year. At least I do. This album has two versions, both released posthumously. The 1970 version has “Dear Lord” but is replaced by “Welcome” and Vigil” on the 1993 CD reissue. “Welcome” was also on Kulu Se Mama, another important Coltrane record. Weird. It should be all of these tunes that Rudy Van Gelder recorded in 1965.

Trane, in case you don’t know him, is one of the titans of jazz, if not all music history. He was an obsessive practice room saxophonist, and you can really hear his dedication. While there are a few Trane musical mannerisms, he rarely feels mechanical to me. He is sheer passion and energy and music.

Transition lives up to its name; this is the Coltrane quartet on the edge of the avant-garde while ripping the lid off mostly one-chord jams (“Transition”), frenzied melodicism (“Welcome”) and a dissonant set of instrumental prayers (“Vigil”, “Suite….”). This is often not easy music to listen to, but if you get heavy into the man and band that came closer than anyone to the musical divine, you’ll be amazed. Since it’s Jimmy Garrison’s birthday, I should point out his bass solo in the middle of the suite. He begins by tapping the strings with the wooden part of the bow (col legno, for those who like fancy music terms). Then he plays his signature double-stops followed by a melodic passage. The band enters unexpectedly, thrashing about. Pianist McCoy Tyner sounds like no one but himself, and the equally legendary Elvin Jones kicks some serious ass on the drums. You can identify each member of the quartet by only listening to a few measures of them playing. That is incredibly hard to achieve as a musician- your unmistakable sound and musical identity. All that said, I wish Elvin was higher in the mix.

For all the amazing music that feels like it’s about to explode, my favorite tunes here are the ballads. “Welcome” has always felt like what I’d hear if I actually made it to heaven. It’s not the music of the spheres; it’s above the spheres. It does sound a bit like Happy Birthday, but maybe that’s why it’s so accessible. Tyner’s arpeggios swirl over your head and around the room as Coltrane guides you through your ascension into the happy afterlife.

As for “Dear Lord”, it’s one of the most beautiful pieces in the jazz pantheon, and another sign of Trane’s divine connection to the universe. It’s in my musical DNA and is something I strive for in my own music. Even if I don’t believe in a Great Creator all the time, I feel that there has to be something bigger out there when I hear 1960s Coltrane.

Coltrane knows.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- March 3- Fishbone- Truth and Soul…
I was already a big Fishbone when this record came out in 1988, and this only made me admire them more. I also got to go to my first Fishbone show that year, which is an experience anyone who gives a shit about energetic music should experience.
On Truth and Soul, the band starts to prove that they have a social conscience and are badass musicians. We Fishbone fans knew these facts already, but they were surrounded by hilarious party grooves that sounded like they could have come from a variety of frat houses. No other band blends so many disparate styles into a singular style like Fishbone.
It’s a good thing I was young and didn’t know that “Freddie’s Dead” was a Curtis Mayfield tune from the movie Superfly. I would have had my soul card revoked. Needless to say, they come out blasting, with guitarist Kendall Jones laying down the original guitar riff, but with about seven degrees of distortion. The song’s message is straight forward: if you want to be a junkie, you’ll probably wind up dead after being ripped off and abused. Curtis’ trademark falsetto here gives way to Angelo Moore’s near-sneering anger. Fishbone has a lot of great fuck-you moments that make you feel really good, even if you’re the one Angelo is telling to fuck off.
The video for “Ma and Pa” gives an example of the energy of a Fishbone show. It’s an upbeat skank-less ska tune that makes the breakup of a family sound like a Cailfornia beach party. ‘Question of Life” is a horn-driven tune that could have only been created in SoCal. Phillip “Fish” Fisher has a distinctive groove and sound here and throughout all Fishbone records. In a decade of questionable snare drum sounds, Fish always sounds natural. Perhaps we can thank producer David Kahne for that. “Pouring Rain” is a modified reggae with a creamy guitar line and swelling brass and minor 9th chords that would feel forced if most other bands of the era tried to use them. “Deep Inside” gets closer to their punk roots. A band like Fishbone can happen when you put inner-city black kids into white suburban San Fernando Valley- if you’re around a lot of different influences and sub-cultures you unconsciously adopt some of their elements. I wish more Southern people would do that, but…
“Mighty Long Way” is a happy shuffle that reminds us that friendship is deep bond. It begs for a drunken singalong with your lifelong buddies. “Bonin’ in the Boneyard” is classic Fishbone, with not-so-subtle references to sex and a pogo-inducing groove with an in-your-face horn line. The remixes of this tune are damn good too, but I have those on a separate EP. Norwood Fisher shows his slap bass skills. YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAAAHHHHHH!
“One Day” begins with an urgent tick-tock and a guitar line that sounds more New Wave than South Central. When you add the Ba Bum Bum Bum vocals and lyrics of social decay, you get a mishmash that can only be Fishbone. “Subliminal Fascism” isn’t very subliminal, with a punk-circus track supporting the lyrics:

I read the paper
and I watch the news
it don’t give me the blues
It just gives me the blacks
Starvation on the radio
They don’t play the facts
They play the crackerjacks

Subliminal Fascism gettin’ under your skin
so you better wake up U.S.

Well the bad gets worse
Too fucked up
And the hate grows more each day
So when the infected try to affect you
Don’t listen to them when they say
Follow the rules and forget the bomb
Communistical patriotic
The plan is subtle but it’s in the open
Kingpin’s Nazi scheme getting under your skin

So you better wake up U.S.

The music might sound like you’re in a fun mosh pit, but this is some deep finger-pointing at the racism that exists around and underneath us. There is more racial and social commentary in “Slow Bus Movin’ (Howard Beach Party). If you don’t know of the Howard Beach incident, click here. The country music references serve to remind us that there are urban rednecks everywhere. “Ghetto Soundwave” is a series of vignettes about how shitty it can be to be black and poor in America. The tune and hooks are so catchy that you don’t notice the blatant lyrics if you’re just partying.
An acoustic guitar with a chorus pedal? A near-ballad on a Fishbone record? “Change” could have been a 1970s meadow rock tune, but it wouldn’t have this power without Fishbone. It would also sound very Caucazoidal. It’s a beautiful way to close the American version of the record.
Please don’t ever change, Fishbone.



MUSIC OF THE DAY- March 4- Chris Squire, Miriam Makeba, Jan Garbarek

Why these three artist who would seem to have nothing in common with other? For one thing, they are all legends in at least one musical genre. For another thing, they were all born on March 4th. And another thing: I love them all.

Yes’ “Owner of a Lonely Heart” is one of the best tracks of the 1980s. Trevor Horn’s (The Buggles, Seal) production was cutting edge for 1983, and to me it has aged well, unlike so many songs of the era. I didn’t know that the song was written by South African guitarist and singer Trevor Rabin, who joined the group for 90125. Bassist Squire wrote the bridge, but the rest is Rabin’s. They brought the original vocalist Jon Anderson back to sing on the record after Rabin’s voice didn’t sound distinctive enough.

I’ve always loved the crispness of the sound; the chorused guitar parts that give a hint of mystery, the fat bass line, the simple but pocket-heavy drums of Alan White, and all those sampled fancy things. The samples Horn used (those horn blasts) came from “Kool is Back” by Funk, Inc., and were run through a Fairlight. (If anybody wants to give me a Fairlight, I’d give it a good home). But it’s Squire’s bass that really pushes the tune. He is one of the best rock bassists in history.
I’d be really impressed if Wikipedia’s claim is true; Rabin wrote the bass line and hook while sitting on the toilet. The loo can be a very good place for solitary creativity, if you can let things go, so to speak. It’s a very impressive track.


Miriam Makeba probably needs some introduction to most Americans, even though she fled her native South Africa for NYC and became internationally known before she was thirty. She sold millions of records, but is as well known for her civil rights work and her criticism for the evil Apartheid system of South Africa. You might say that she is the queen of South Africa. I wouldn’t argue.

If you argued with me about this song, however, there would be trouble. You would have to be the inbred brother of the Grinch to not feel better from this song. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know what she’s singing about (at least until she explains that it’s a South African dance). You HAVE to dance to this song. There’s not much to it except that it’s three minutes of groove and joy. It’s also a little wistful to me somehow, as if she’s telling us that shit is fucked up in this world, but we have each other and we can dance.

Ms. Makeba performed the song in Italy in 2008, then collapsed and died from a heart attack.

Jan Garbarek is a Norwegian tenor and soprano saxophonist with a sound the size of the Arctic Circle. His is a very warm sound, but I see fjords and icy terrain when I hear him. I first got to know him from Keith Jarrett’s records for the ECM label that featured fellow Scandinavians Palle Danielsson (bass) and Jon Christenson (drums). That’s the quartet here, recorded live in Tokyo in April 1979, but not released until 1989, when a bunch of us Berklee kids got a hold of it and reveled in the crazed harmonies of Jarrett’s tune and the energy Garbarek and company put out. It’s intense. That’s really the only word for this performance- it’s like a guy who has some really interesting and important things to say, but he’s a little too close to you as he speaks, with his friends adding things to his diatribe. This is one version of post-Coltrane tenor playing that has always stuck with me. Dig that metric modulation in the coda that fades out so calmly.

I could have used many other recordings (It’s Ok to Listen to the Gray Voice, My Song, Belonging), but this has something a little different. Maybe it’s because it’s live and recorded in a country that actually cares about jazz that makes it memorable; this quartet is one of the best groups in post-bop jazz.

Get to know all these performers if you don’t already. It’s not like these are the only songs each of them did. You’ll find all sorts of things in their respective catalogs.


MUSIC OF THE DAY-March 5- Speedy West and Jimmy Bryant

Just find everything these two pickers did and put it on permanent rotation. Here is another one of those American stories- people move somewhere to find a better way of life and bring their culture with them to mix with whatever the local scene is. In this case, Jimmy and Speedy came to Southern California after World War Two to play country music. It so happened that a lot of other musicians moved there at the same time, and Leo Fender was building solid-body guitars and tube amps in Fullerton. It’s these confluences and happenstances in musical history that always fascinate me.

Jimmy (guitar) and Speedy (pedal steel) met while playing on KXLA’s Hometown Jamboree in 1949. They recorded and performed with Tennessee Ernie Ford and other SoCal country stars. However, it’s the recordings these two made together that created one of the best country-swing-bebop mashups and showed the world that they were some serious musicians.
            Certainly, there was no one technically anywhere near Bryant, and Speedy’s almost-comic steel playing makes you forget that he’s really damn good. Check out “Stratosphere Boogie” and tell me that’s not some of the greatest guitar playing ever recorded. He’s not just playing fast; he’s phrasing and playing melodically and, oh yeah, playing a 12-string guitar in thirds at a tempo that would have impressed Sonny Stitt.

Check out “Bryant’s Bounce”, a bouncy swing with Charlie Christian and Django influences. It’s all Bryant, though, showing that he and Speedy can play the jazzy chords, and play them well. It is a minor revelation if you haven’t heard playing like this and assumed that jazz and country have been separate factions throughout history. “Little Rock Getaway” is later Bryant sans West, but it is shredding like no other.
Speedy and Jimmy are no longer with us on this terrestrial plain, but they will always be swinging and fretting as long as people have music to listen to. There are plenty more tunes of theirs you can find out there.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- March 6- Bob Wills and his Texas Playboys- The Tiffany Transcriptions, Vol.2

Two country-swing posts in a row? That’s not a problem, especially since it’s Bob Wills’ birthday. Wills was the fiddle player and bandleader who combined honky-tonk country and swing to create Western Swing. He’s also the guy you hear calling “AHHHH-HA!” behind soloists and Tommy Duncan’s vocals. Wills is more influential than most people realize, but you’ll probably feel something to draw you in here.

Wills’ catalog is huge, so I’m zooming in on these recordings from a live radio show on San Francisco’s KGO in 1946. You get a lot of Wills’ hits here, but since they weren’t confined to the three-minute limit of 78-rpm records, they get to stretch out the songs more. And so many of these songs are classics. I dare you to listen to “Take Me Back to Tulsa” without singing along or moving some part of your body. Wills brought horns into country music, and with it a jazz sensibility that went against the string bands of traditional country. You’ve also got the pedal steel of Leon McAuliffe, a master of the instrument. Guitarist Eldon Shamblin knew something about Charlie Christian, and he’s got a grit in his tone that pre-dates the overdriven rock guitar sound by a few years.

They play “Faded Love” as a medium pace instrumental with some great steel work by McAuliffe. “Right or Wrong” is one of those Wills classics with what I call the “Sweet Georgia Brown” chord progression, although many songs have this harmonic pattern. It starts in one place and takes you somewhere else, but you don’t feel any bumps along the way. “Bring It on Down…” is a standard old-timey sixteen measure tune that manages to be about sex without any direct reference to it. So many great songs have used metaphors for sex, but not many have a tweaked-out guitar solo from Tiny Moore. Tommy Duncan calls out Tiny’s name, so I’ll say it was him.

“Cherokee Maiden” has the requisite stereotypical Indian war chant that was common of any old song that dealt with the exoticism of the American Indian. If you can get over that, there’s another great Eldon solo. The tune was co-written by Cindy Walker, so chalk one up for the female songwriter crew. “Steel Guitar Rag” is a great blowing tune and another excuse for Wills to shout during the solos. If anyone else did this while I was soloing, I’d probably be pissed off, but this is BOB WILLS.

You should stay all night and “Stay A Little Longer” to dance and sing to this one. Pianist Millard Kelso has some Teddy Wilson in him to go with his country tinge. There has never been a better song written about a fat kid than “Roly Poly”. You couldn’t get away with writing this now without offending someone. Hell, so much of country music of this era is a tad uncomfortable to us now, sociologically speaking. I can look past that to hear the music. “Cotton-Eye Joe” is a folk song that more than likely came from enslaved African-Americans before the Civil War. The Joe in question stole a gal away from the narrator. It’s a square-dance standard. “Time Changes Everything” is by Duncan, and makes you dance over the strains of heartbreak and the passage of time. “Corrine Corrina” swings the folk song yet keeps the odd-number of beats that folksingers used. “Ida Red” is a barn dance incarnate, and was a big hit for Wills and the Playboys. “A Maiden’s Prayer” is a tad slower and sweeter here than the other versions I’ve heard, so I like it a little more. Fiddle trios should come back into popular music. I had no idea it was originally a piano piece by a 19th century Polish composer whose name I can’t spell. Wills wrote the lyrics, although it’s often an instrumental.

This volume closes with “San Antonio Rose,” a Wills classic that every aspiring country musician should know. The horn interlude before Duncan’s vocal could have been written by Fud Livingston; it’s not strange, but you sure don’t expect it. Not everything in Wills-land is diatonic, but that’s what make him stand apart.

If this is your first time at the barndance, welcome. There are many Wills acolytes out there, stirring up trouble and dancers. Get into Wills and The Playboys and you’ll want to have a hoedown in your living room.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- March 7- Tower of Power-Back to Oakland

I have long been of the mind that there has been no part of the world (outside of James Brown’s tour bus) that was funkier than the Bay Area between 1968-1975. Sly, Herbie’s Headhunters, Santana, and so many other bands were grooving out here back in the day.
But then there was Tower of Power.

If you have not felt The Power before, 1974’s Back to Oakland is a great way to start. “Oakland Stroke” is so goddamn funky that they had to split it up between sides A and B. It’s too grooving to dance to, with Rocco Prestia’s bass, David Garibaldi’s how-the-fuck-does-he-do-it drumming, Brent Byars conga playing, and Bruce Conte’s slick guitar work that eases so seamlessly into the mix. Those are just the first three elements in the TOP quotient.

“Don’t Change Horses (In the Middle of a Stream)” is quietly greasy. It has a great vocal by Lenny Williams and a creamy solo by Conte. This is head-bobbing music that will free your hips.

It goes without saying that the core of Tower of Power is in the horn section. This is what I think of as the classic lineup:

Emilio Castillo- Leader, tenor sax, and vocals

Lenny Pickett- Tenor Sax

Greg Adams- Trumpet, Flugelhorn

Mic Gillette- Trumpet, Flugelhorn

Stephen “The Doctor” Kupka- Baritone Sax, the King of the Low End


Not only did TOP have one of the funkiest rhythm sections ever, they had a horn section that was tighter than a frog’s butthole. Not to mention one of my personal keyboard heroes, the great Chester Thompson. I owe so much to him as a piano/keyboard player, as I’ve tried to steal everything he played on these records and other recordings with Santana.

“Just When We Start Making It” is a classic 1970s 12/8 soul ballad about a relationship on the edge. Chester plays a great chorused Hammond B-3 solo.  “Can’t You See (You Doin’ Me Wrong” makes major 7 chords sound funkier than they ever hoped they could be. Listen to the way the individual parts interweave and complement each other. There are quite a few notes, but nobody steps on anyone else. Side One closes with Thompson’s instrumental “Squib Cakes”, a joyous jam. I wish more records sounded like this, musically and sonically.

“Time Will Tell” is a sweetened R&B waltz with violins that I would be fine not hearing, but they do make for easier slow dancing. “Man from the Past” sounds like it could be an Al Green jam at first, but Williams and the East Bay grit take over. Garibaldi shows here that quarter notes on the hi-hat can groove as hard as anything. Man, this rhythm section….

“Love’s Been Gone So Long” is an inspirational soul ballad with some fancy chords surrounded by major triads. It feels like Gamble and Huff went to Memphis for a spell and found this horn section on tour. I’m not sure what “The Chop” is, but Lenny Williams has it, so I want it, or at least want to experience it in a juke joint in 1974 Richmond.  I have a feeling it’s some sort of macho that I couldn’t possibly muster, so I’ll just say the groove and arrangement are a tad nasty.

“Below Us, All the City Lights” has a Bacharach-esque flugelhorn intro and more of those pesky strings that let us know that this is ballad time. Parking and loving while overlooking all the city lights. It is a beautiful thought, as long as The Zodiac killer isn’t watching you.

The second half of “Oakland Stroke” fades in and reminds you that, alas, you are merely human and cannot play shit like this. Grooves like this are for THE PROFESSIONALS. It is also one of the cruellest fadeouts in recorded music. I want to know what happened next. Maybe that groove is like David Foster Wallace fictional movie “Infinite Jest”, where everyone who watches it dies. Perhaps you would die from too much funk if you listened to the whole thing.

Would you die from an Oakland Stroke?

That’s how I’d want to go out.


MUSIC OF THE DAY-March 8- Maurice Ravel- Piano Music

If you aren’t familiar with one of my favorite composers, here are a few links to get you started on his piano music. Ravel (1875-1937) is placed in the French Impressionist section of classical music histories, although he didn’t like the term. Most musicians don’t like being labelled. He created some incredibly difficult piano music, but also some slightly less-challenging beauties like these.

First is Alicia De Larrocha, one of my favorite classical pianists. (More on her on her birthday). The Sonatine is in three sections, all in various levels of dreaminess. Just sit back and listen.

It’s amazing how two piano players can take the same piece of music, play the notes and markings, but have such wildly different interpretations. First, here is Walter Gieseking’s take on Le Tombeau de Couperin:

He’s playing it slower than I would expect, but he brings out some things with his approach that make it sound like a new piece to me.

Now here’s the Errol Flynn-looking Samson Francois:

Holy shit is he playing it fast. Maybe he doesn’t draw some thing out of the pieces like Giesiking does by milking every note, but it’s fleet-fingered. DO I have a preference? Nope. They both play it better than me, so I like to hear differing musical opinions.

Would I swing it harder?

Hell fucking yeah.

And I bet Maurice would have appreciated it. Jazz liked him and he liked jazz.
There will be plenty more Ravel in the upcoming months.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- March 9- The Monkees

Sure, they weren’t really a “band”, didn’t get to play on most of their records, and didn’t live together in a groovy L.A. pad like they did on TV, but The PreFab Four were far more than the manufactured boy band the industry people tried to make them into. Frank Zappa liked them, and I like a lot of things Frank Zappa liked. The Monkees used the best songwriters and session musicians available in the late 1960s-1970s and wrote and played some really good songs when they finally gained some control over their music and image.
This is some of the best goddamned pop music ever recorded and I love it. Bite me.

This is a playlist I created of some of my favorite tunes of theirs. It begins with “Hey Hey We’re the Monkees!” Hey! This was their TV theme song that opened the show. In case you weren’t raised on Monkees reruns weekdays afternoons in the summertime like me, this played under the opening credits. They introduce themselves as the new generation, and they’ve got something to say. A kinder, gentler version of the young people who protested the Vietnam War and wanted free love. They’re just trying to be friendly, and I think you’ll agree.

“I’m A Believer” begins with that great organ hook and lets Mickey Dolenz tell us of his romantic cynicism getting washed away. It was written by NEIL FUCKING DIAMOND, the Jewish Elvis. He could write a tune. Are you believing in The Monkees yet?

“Last Train to Clarksville” drags us in with more instrumental ear candy, this time a twangy guitar riff that was probably played by SoCal studio ace Tommy Tedesco. This song was written by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart, who were responsible for many Monkees hits. It’s a song about romantic desperation from the point of view of a phone call. You can feel the urgency of the semi-harmless lyric in every aspect of the production.

“(I’m Not Your) Steppin’ Stone” is one of the most garage rock tunes The Monkees recorded. It’s a grungy sneer at the girl who uses the narrator to gain social status. Dude of course is telling her to fuck off without actually saying it, so it begs for various obscenities to be yelled out as you’re pogo-hopping on the dance floor like a sorority girl after a ketamine hit.

I’ve always felt a dream sensation when I hear “The Girl That I Knew Somewhere”. A lot of these songs feel like I knew them before I was born, and that I was a young man in love with a beautiful woman, or the allure of a beautiful woman. But she always vanishes by the time my dream ends, probably when the gang of harpsichords falls down onto the chorus like flying rodents in a French cathedral. I want this sound whenever I like in my life. Music, more than pictures, reminds me of would-be or lost loves. This feeling extends into “She” and a video of the band playing in various settings with random characters in and out of the frames like Alice In Wonderland in Malibu. Why aren’t there girls like that now? Or videos like this anymore? I miss Technicolor and youth full of hope, wearing bright colors. It’s also got a gritty fuzz pedal sound that represents She herself.

He’s so serene, he’s got a TV in every room, and the kid don’t understand- “Pleasant Valley Sunday” is one catchy tune. This is my favorite pop commentary on the bland consumerism and soullessness of most white suburbs, and it has that catchy twangy guitar line. Note to songwriters: If you have a catchy verse melody but can’t come up with new lyrics, try the “Ba-Ba-Ba-Ba” device that Mickey Dolenz sings here. Gerry Goffin and Carole King wrote it about West Orange, New Jersey, but I’ve always heard it as a SoCal thing, or maybe about one of John Cheever’s short stories. (“The Swimmer”, anyone?) “Daydream Believer” is a chewing gum high school ode to a prom queen who dreams and maybe feels sad. For some reason, this is the 1986 remix, which has DRUMS THAT SHOULD NOT BE THERE. All four Monkees played or sang on this tune, which is cool. Almost as cool is that trumpeter Shorty Rogers wrote the arrangement. West Coast jazz meets West Coast bubblegum? Sign me up!

A few friends have been in Davy Jones’ predicament at times- two women who love you and you’re up Schitt’s creek even though you love them both. “Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow)” is the predicament he’s in as the ladies are about to meet.  It ends before we hear him choose, but it sure gets in our heads. “I see all kinds of sorrow!” That’s not a line you hear in a lot of pop songs, so I’d like to thank Neil Diamond again. “You Just May Be the One” is a modified blues by Michael Nesmith, head Monkee. It’s part California, part Country, and a touch of Rubber Soul. The clip here from the show is pretty damn silly, but The Monkees were more surrealistic and counterculture than most people give them credit for. Nesmith’s country leanings come back with “What Am I Doin’ Hangin’ Round?” He’s a Yankee who wins over a Mexican maiden, although I’m not sure if he met her in San Antonio. Nesmith is an underrated everything, (he produced REPO MAN, for Pete’s sake) and I didn’t know he wrote “Mary Mary”, a fun number with a Mickey Dolenz vocal. Mickey was my favorite Monkee until he permed his hair. I’ve spent way too much time thinking about that.  It’s the so-called Wrecking Crew on the track, augmented by Peter Tork on guitar. I”ve tried to sample Hal Blaine and Jim Gordon’s drum work on this for years, to no avail. Run-DMC did a version, and yes, it was illing.

“Randy Scouse Git” is by and sung by Dolenz, and has a little old-timey feel with a psychedelic kettledrum. Mickey also scats up a storm after and before he yells at The Establishment. I like it when they yell at The Establishment. All four Monkees played on this. Mr. Diamond kills it again with “A Little Bit Me, A Little Bit You” and its merry-go-round chorus with that hard guitar strum. Also, claps with oh-oh backup vocals will nearly always make a song catchy. “For Pete’s Sake” closed the TV show, at least how I remember it, so it closes my playlist. It’s a hippie-lite paean to freedom and love. Who doesn’t that, especially with a great tune supporting it. The song has always like it starts in the middle to me, but I don’t mind.

Look, if you don’t like The Monkees, I’m not going to say we will have problems, but I will test your cynicism by asking if you can listen to this entire playlist without singing along or moving to the giddy rhythms. Come at me.

We gotta be free.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- March 10-Bix Beiderbecke and The Wolverines, Bix Beiderbecke solo piano

It’s Bix day. There are trumpet players who dazzle more, or who have chops and phrasing beyond belief, but there’s only Bix, and he hits me in some smilingly forlorn place of my white boy soul. Louis Armstrong is the king, of course, but Bix sounds like he knows me. Eddie Condon allegedly said that hearing Bix was the sound of a girl saying yes. That phrase alone should appeal to any romantic, lapsed or not. No matter which band he’s with, Bix cuts through. He doesn’t sound like Satchmo, which is kind of like being a pop musician in England in 1966 sounding nothing like The Beatles. Preferring Bix over Satchmo is like preferring The Kinks over The Fab Four, or Thomas Hardy over Charles Dickens. Maybe I’m stretching it. With Armstrong, you hear sheer joy and some shades of sadness, but with Bix there’s a semi-detached melancholy that still manages to have a bit of a sunny streak. It’s no wonder than he drank himself to death by age twenty-eight. Alcoholism in The Jazz Age was like dying of consumption if you were a 19th century artist.

On to the music. This is some early Bix with The Wolverines (I’m saving Bix and Tram for later). It was 1924, the age of Gatsby and flappers and Prohibition. Fortunately, it was the first time Bix Beiderbecke recorded, He was only twenty-one, but he already sounds like himself, even when they’re playing tunes already made famous by other bands (“Fidgety Feet”, “Royal Garden Blues”,” Tiger Rag”). The Wolverines were a Midwest band, but made it to New York City to play and record some of these tunes. Damn, I wish for time travel so often when I listen to some music, just so I could see and hear it live. I’d listen to everything Bix played, even if he was so trashed he couldn’t stand up.

Don’t let the old-timey sound fool you, in case you have an aversion to traditional jazz and the primitive sounding recording. This was the sexy rock and roll of its day, after all, when jazz was new, daring, and more than a little bit licentious. Bix’s brief solos are the highlights, of course. He left The Wolverines for Jean Goldkette’s band later in 1924 and set off on the next part of his career. Sadly, he achieved more fame and recognition after his death. If you really want to be known as a great artist, die young.

Bix was also a great piano player and composer, even though he was unorthodox a=in many ways and had questionable music reading skills. “In A Mist” floored me when I was 14 and first heard it, and it still does. The Wolverines and other bands occasionally flirted with whole-tone chords and other colors of the French Impressionists Debussy and Ravel, but “In a Mist” ties those composers together with jazz. It’s still strikingly modern.

The same goes for “Candlelights”.

“Candlelights” sounds like he’s walking along the Seine with a flask, thinking of modern art and New York skyscrapers. “In the Dark” sounds like he gets around fine at night. It’s interesting how he uses light and visual terms for his solo piano pieces. It’s like he’s playing Monet.

For some reason, I can’t find the original version of “Flashes” on YouTube. You can listen to some fine modern interpretations of it, but once I hear Bix, I don’t want to hear anyone else for a while.

Enjoy the young man with a horn. He is a musician for the ages.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- March 11- Ornette Coleman- This Is Our Music

Ornette Coleman scared a lot of people in the late 1950s with his unusual approach to the alto saxophone and to music. That said, I think he’s one of the most bluesy and melodic improvisers in music history. Thanks to Al MacDowell (Serious badass bassist who played with Ornette for decades) I got to witness the man run a few rehearsals, and he even explained harmolodics to me. It seemed so simple the way he explained it, but I got home and it was gone.

This was my first Ornette record with the classic quartet Ornette, Don Cherry on pocket trumpet, Charlie Haden on bass (the look on his face on the cover always made me think he wanted to kill me) and the amazing Ed Blackwell on drums. This was cutting edge in 1960, and still sounds raw, especially Ornette. He’s right up front, starting with “Blues Connotation” The melody is a blues, but from there I can’t tell where they go, except that it’s pulsating pretty damn hard. I really love Blackwell’s sound on the drums. Gretsch? Tuned high? Drummers- chime in. Don Cherry enters and it’s not quite as startling, except that he’s on the left side of your stereo. He cuts off prematurely (to me) for a Blackwell solo. Mr. Blackwell absorbed some Max Roach, but he’s his own force.

For some reason when I was seventeen, “Beauty is a Rare Thing” calmed me down from the perceived stress of high school. I definitely had different coping mechanisms that other Gen Xers. It’s a lament of sorts, but the rare beauty they’re espousing is closer to Dali than to Degas. It gets a little ominous toward the end. Nowadays they would have put some reverb on the horns to soften them up. I wouldn’t mind that. But it’s Ornette!

“Kaleidoscope” sounds at first like someone stuffing a peacock down a garbage disposal, but once you get adjusted to the harsh, you’ll hear the melodic ideas. This version of Gershwin’s “Embraceable You” is not your great-grandmother’s version, unless she was hanging out at The Five Spot back in the day. Even though I’m a piano player I’ve never missed the lack of chordal instruments in most of Ornette’s early stuff. Gerry Mulligan did it, so why not Ornette? This is perhaps the most tonal of the tunes, which isn’t saying a lot, as they take justified liberties with everything. “Poise” begins with a little musical pointillism, then loose but forceful melody by Coleman and Cherry. How Charlie Haden and Ed Blackwell keep the train going is beyond me. The time is incredibly elastic, but they always know where it is.


MUSIC/SPOKEN WORD OF THE DAY- March 12- Jack Kerouac and Steve Allen-Poetry for the Beat Generation

If you dig the Beat Generation like I do, this is a goldmine of post-war imagery washing over you like a million drunken eyeballs. You get to hear Kerouac’s voice with its working-class Boston intonation, and the multi-talented Steve Allen improvising a piano piece under the poetry. This first one is a panoply of Northern California place names and saloons and rushes of people and faces. Dig the way he says “San Francisco”. You have to experience the whole thing with an open ear to the words, then do that twenty times, then listen to what Steve Allen is playing and realize that it’s far more bop-bluesy than cocktail lounge.

I’m not sure what a slouch hat is, but I want one now.

I really wish there were talk shows like Steve’s around today. “How would you define the word Beat?” “Sympathetic”. I don’t see Jimmy Fallon bringing poets on his show and playing guitar behind them, unless it was a purely comic thing. It’s hard to believe there was television like this:

I never thought of The Beat Generation in color. This is a bit of a revelation, even though I first heard the duo years ago. Check out the rhythm section behind Allen and Kerouac. That’s some SLOW blues, and that shit is hard to play, especially when you’re making up a poet who speaks over the pulse, not with it. Kudos to that invisible drummer and bassist.

No self-respecting Beatnik (or anyone with a soul) doesn’t love Charlie Parker, the messiah of bebop. “Charlie Parker was the Buddha!” Jack says. Steve gets a little Monk-ish here while Jack says that Bird is as good as Beethoven, a notion I can’t argue with.

“How sweet a story it is when you hear Charlie Parker tell it”.

“Charlie Parker, forgive me for not answering your eyes.”

“Charlie Parker, pray for me and everybody in the nirvanas of your mind where you hide.”

I start to miss Greenwich Village when I hear “McDougal Street Blues”. His New York was earlier than my New York, but there’s a soul there that will never die, no matter how many soul-deprived tech bandits move in. “Imagelessness”, he says, and the chessman are silent. Watch the scenes of last millennium’s Gotham float by you as his voice commands you.
There are more collaboration of Allen and Kerouac, and you can find them on the “Poetry of the Beat Generation” CD. I’d like to thank the late Bruce Arkin for turning me on to this record so many years ago.

So long and take it easy, because if you start taking things seriously, it is the end of you.


ALBUM OF THE DAY-March 13- Chick Corea-Now He Sings, Now He Sobs

Are you a jazz piano player who is feeling down about your playing? Sorry, kid, today is NOT your day. Chick Corea will make you consider another instrument or career, possibly something that isn’t anywhere near music.

Maybe I’m exaggerating a little. After the Picasso- in the -piano- room opening of “Steps”, Chick launches into some pretty rad lines that owe quite a lot to McCoy Tyner, only on crank. He’s on top of the beat at an already fast tempo. Miroslav Vitous is one of the most accomplished bassists around, and on drums is ROY HAYNES. Roy Haynes can do ANYTHING. He’s playing with relative newbies here and he sounds even more modern than them. I think most drummers would agree that Haynes’ ride cymbal sound on this record is so fucking awesome that the recording should be placed in the Hall of Fame. Wait, jazz doesn’t really have a HOF. Oh, but The Grammys do. Get on it, jazz. You’ve been warned.

This minor blues (“Steps”) segues into a brisk Spanish Locrian major ultra-fancy modal tune called “What Was.” I don’t care how the analytics want to label it, harmonically, as long as they call it impassioned musical knifepoint brilliance. This was recorded in 1968, a pretty uneasy year in America, so I feel an urgency here that is rare in a lot of recordings. It’s not that other artists don’t care as much as this trio did, but that there are times when music has an electricity about it that can’t be measured. Miroslav was twenty years old. This record could be enough to make a lot of average bassists to take up bricklaying (which is a great craft and mostly pays better than being a double bass virtuoso. No offense to the bricklayers.)

Chick was deep into the I Ching at the time, which is a good thing to be deep into. When you’re only twenty-six and really damn good a little ancient Asian divination never hurts. The trio had never played together until the recording session. They sound completely dialed in to my ears. Sometimes no rehearsal is the best rehearsal, since this is considered one of the greatest jazz piano trio records in history.

“Matrix” has a matrix; that is if you can call a loose F blues a matrix. Sure, there are some jazz kids who can play like this now, but Chick did it this way first, without the compact disc, computers, SSRIS, or the Internet. Miroslav shreds here, so bass players, keep practicing. However, this record should inspire rather than detract, even though we all need records and musicians to keep us humble. The title track is a slightly anxious jazz waltz that has a few musical ideas that became Coreaisms. I can’t believe this was his first record as a leader. Excuse me while I contemplate my career while throwing myself into the practice room for the next two years.

“Now He Beats the Drum, Now He Stops” begins with a thoughtful piano intro with some string muting and other prepared piano effects. The rhythm section enters, and they play over a set of chord changes around C minor and a few housebroken harmonies. It’s more brilliance at a slightly slower pace. Don’t be scared off by the haunted house scrapings of “The Law of Falling and Catching Up.” It’s a completely improvised piece, because it was the 1960s after all. This particular experiment is less about melody and harmony than it is about sheer sound and texture. Imagine a Kandinsky painting set to music with ghosts and chains and you’ll rest easier. It’s fun.

There are bonus tracks with the CD reissue, but I’m going to stop with the original LP because I could go on and on about this amazing trio record. I already have, but it’s worth your while to put this in your collection.


March 14- Sinatra at the Sands.

Goddamn Word lost the fucking thing.


Music of the Day- February


MUSIC OF THE DAY- February 1st– The Everly Brothers


There are pop music vocal duos and there are The Everly Brothers. Their harmonies are son=me of the sweetest ever recorded. Sure, it helped that they had Chet Atkins guiding them with top tier songwriters like Felice and Boudleaux Bryant supplying them with hits, but these boys could SING. To me, they cover the emotional landscape of teendom pretty damn well. Their influence on other music of the late 1950s-60s is immense and sometimes hard to fathom, because they seemed ubiquitous on the pop, rock, and country charts. They were crossover artists in a way, but to them they weren’t crossing from one style to another. The Everly catalogue isn’t quite any of those labels, but you can call it pop. They can transport you back to a time before some of us were born; the adolescent fairyland of drive-ins, going steady, and sexual repression. There isn’t any implicit sexuality in their songs, but you can feel the longing and wanting (Think of Warren Beatty in Splendor in the Grass).

The songs are classics, and not enough of them are represented here. “All I Have to Do Is Dream” could be a trite song in other hands, but they milk it so well. “Bird Dog”, which is about what we call a Player today” “Let it Be Me”-a pure song of love if there ever was one; “Poor Jenny”, which tells of a new girl at school who winds up in trouble, and does so with an unusual chord progression; “Bye Bye Love”, which is a really sad song clothed in a happy beat; “Wake Up Little Susie”; the poster boy song of sexual repression, which tells of teenagers falling asleep at a drive- in and missing their curfew, leading to their classmates gossiping that they must have done something BAD.

There are too many to talk about here, but I don’t think there’s a bad Everly tune from their golden era. If you want to point to their vocal influence on later songs, listen to The Beatlles’ “Please Please Me” and compare it to the Everlys’ opening vocal on “Cathy’s Clown”. BLAMMO! “Love Hurts” is one of the best broken -hearted ballads there is. You can also check Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris’ version, which manages to bring more self-inflicted torture out of the song. I liken their version to love as an addiction, while the Everlys show you the pain and sadness of not having someone in your life any more.

Happy 81st birthday, Don Everly. You and your brother’s voices will be forever etched in my heart.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 2nd– Stan Getz-Focus

There are those albums you can easily classify into a sub-genre or era, and there are the albums you can’t classify at all. Focus is one of those records. Is it cool jazz? Is it third-stream, that combo of jazz and classical? Is it chamber jazz? All those questions don’t mean shit, because this record is GREAT.

Stan Getz was already one of the top tenor saxophonists in the world in 1961 but hadn’t released his legendary bossa nova album yet which would propel him to the pop charts. Getz commissioned the underpraised arranger Eddie Sauter to write an album for him with a string orchestra. Usually jazz musicians with strings albums are ballad-heavy and showcase the tenderness of the soloist. Sauter’s arrangements and Getz’s playing are the opposite of the previous models. It’s a very modern sounding record, even today. The harmonic structure of the tunes is not very standard for the most part.

Getz shreds. He doesn’t get enough credit for being a badass, possibly because he was popular, and there’s that stupid misconception that if something is popular it must suck. Getz isn’t taking chances here. “I’m Late, I’m Late” combines Bartok and Lester Young on amphetamines; “I Remember When” is a bittersweet ballad with harmonies that tell you the emotions involved are much more complicated than any pop song of the era; “Pan” is what the lovechild of Bernard Herrmann and Maurice Ravel would sound like if that kid grew up on 52nd Street;  “Her” showcases Getz’s warm and breathy tone over a blue blanket of strings; “Night Rider” is a brooding but energetically swinging tune that makes me wonder how Sauter could get the strings to swing; “Once Upon a Time” sounds like Walt Disney asking Hindemith and Jimmy Giuffre to score a cartoon; and wherever the park is in “A Summer Afternoon”, I want to go there, even if the trees are sparkly and foreboding.

Stan Getz was known as The Sound. This unusual and beautiful record shows that he was a multi-faceted master of the tenor saxophone. Listen NOW.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- February 3- Buddy Holly

Fifty-nine years ago today was The Day The Music Died. (Cue Don McClean). For you youngsters who don’t know of Buddy Holly, The Big Bopper, or Ritchie Valens, they died in a plane crash on route to a gig in Moorehead, Minnesota in 1959. Note to musicians: prop planes and helicopters KILL us.
You can say that the future of rock and roll was on that plane. Buddy Holly, most of all, was the guy who was the biggest star and who was poised to take the music to the next level. He had already changed rock and roll by combing elements of country, Texas twang, and whiteboy blues into a very tuneful whole. His recording output was all of three years, but those months changed the musical world. “That’ll Be The Day”, “Peggy Sue”, “It’s So Easy”, “Everyday”, “True Love Ways”; “Not Fade Away”; these are classic recordings. Dylan, The Everly Brothers, and the Beatles could all count Holly as a major influence on their work, and we owe him so much. He also made it cool to look like a nerd.

His bassist with his backing band The Crickets was a young Texan by the name of Waylon Jennings. You might have heard of him. Years after the plane crash, Jennings said that Holly had kidded him about freezing in the gig-bound tour bus. Waylon replied with “I hope your ol’ plane crashes”.

Waylon was haunted by this.

Buddy Holly was twenty-two years old.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 4- Sonny Rollins, Dizzy Gillespie, Sonny Stitt

Sonny Side Up

This is a meeting of jazz titans. Unlike some all-star gatherings that turn into “blowing sessions” (where there is little focus on a musical arrangement in favor of extended improvisation), this record is thought-out but still full of some of the best jazz soloing on record. This version of “On the Sunny Side of the Street” might be in the top five definitive recordings of the standard. Dizzy’s Satchmo-inspired vocal is incredibly inventive, mostly because he changes the melody, rhythm, and some of the lyrics, but it feels so easy and natural you’d almost wish Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Field wrote it this way.

“The Eternal Triangle” is one of the classic re-writes of George and Ira Gershwin’s “I Got Rhythm”. It’s fast, but not roadrunner fast. Both of the Sonnys (Get the title?) rip through the chord changes like a bull through a toreador’s cape. Stitt is still underrated as a first-class improviser and saxophonist, while Dizzy and Sonny Rollins are, well, legends. Rollins is still with us, although he recently retired from performing, which is a drag, as I’d want everybody who cares about jazz to have seen him live at some point. Lincoln Center 1996 for me- DAMN.

“After Hours” is a slow-ish 12/8 blues, where pianist Ray Bryant gets to show his Otis Spann meets Horace Silver approach. His older brother Tommy lays it down on bass, and the under-appreciated Charlie Persip grooves hard on the kit.  Vincent Youmans’ “I Know That You Know” gets the fast bebop treatment here, and the Sonnys show how to play with 2-bar breaks. It’s a way to show that you have your rhythmic shit together. These guys have it all together.

ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 5- Television- Marquee Moon

When you’re a rock musician in mid-1970s New York and you take the name of a French Symbolist poet, you better know what you’re doing. Tom Verlaine knew what he was doing (and still does), and the two-guitar attack of Television’s 1977 debut album influenced so many other artists. He conceived the song order before they even recorded the album. Marquee Moon shows us one view of the 1970s Lower East Side, when it was still dangerous and filled with poetry and guitars.

I haven’t been able to find the origin of the white guy/half-sung/half spoken/half sneer vocal sound, but Verlaine is pretty close to the source. David Byrne with Talking Heads is another example of the style, and it’s no surprise that both bands came out of the LES scene. Verlaine’s voice won’t please everyone, but the people who do like it have made some of the best “rock” music of the past forty-odd years.

“See No Evil” rocks from the beginning. The two-guitar melodies of Richard Lloyd and Verlaine are the Duane Allman and Dickey Betts of the CBGB crowd. Fred Smith and Billy Ficca are a more inventive rhythm section than most bands of the era. The title track is a semi-epic adventure, with more twin guitar lines for your ears to latch onto. “Prove It” predicts some elements of the 1980s, but not in a bad way (See U2, The Pixies, R.E.M., Sonic Youth).

No matter which compartment you try to put Television into-Art rock? No Wave? Post-punk? (how can you be post punk when The Sex Pistols came out a few months after your record?)- they are an important part of rock and roll history.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 6-Bob Marley and The Wailers- Catch a Fire

It’s Bob Marley and The Wailers. Need I say more? I guess I will.

Musicians have a unique ability to address social issues, especially when they write and sing incredible music like you hear on this record. Catch a Fire is heavier and more minor-key than what we usually think of when we think of the Jesus Christ of reggae, but that doesn’t make it groove any less. When the Barretts and Peter Tosh are involved, there will be groove and truth.

“Concrete Jungle” kicks it off, and we aren’t on the happy beaches of Jamaica anymore. “No sun will shine in my today”- he’s enslaved by the grim city streets. In “Slave Driver” and “500 Years” (the latter by Tosh), they sing us the evils of the African slave trade. Heavy shit.

The mood gets lighter with the classic “Stir It Up”, which has to be one of the best hookup songs ever recorded. “Kinky Reggae”, “Midnight Ravers”, “No More Trouble”, “Baby We’ve Got a Date”; this is some of the best stuff to come out of Jamaica. Bob is smoking one of Jamaica’s other main exports on the cover.

Here’s another example of The Wailers’ brilliance, also from 1973.

Happy birthday Bob Marley!


ALBUM OF THE DAY-February 7-Miles Davis- In A Silent Way


From the second you hear Joe Zawinul’s creepy organ chords, you might think Miles dropped some acid with Vincent Price, but “Shh/Peaceful” calms down to a hypnotic and beautiful piece with 16th note hi-hat patterns by Tony Williams and pleasing textures and moods all around. This was Miles’ first full-fledged foray into electronics, and the tunes are surprisingly less jarring than say, Miles Smiles or Sorcerer. But hey, we’re listening to jazz legends here: John McLaughlin on the electric (gasp!) guitar; Wayne Shorter on saxophone; Zawinul, Herbie Hancock, and Chick Corea on keyboards; and relative newcomer Dave Holland on bass. Of course, there’s Miles on trumpet, directing the traffic. The album was recorded in three hours in 1968, and then producer Teo Macero edited the tapes to make a more cohesive sounding record.

“In a Silent Way/It’s About That Time” is pretty much Zawinul’s, and it’s dreamy and floaty without drifting into flower-power land. It’s all about the simple melody, with McLaughlin, Shorter, and Davis each stating their versions of it. Then we get a nice bass ostinato (Miles liked James Brown) with a nice drum groove from Williams, which leads into a three-measure chord pattern of Zawinul’s that they explore. As far as “fusion” records go, this is one you could have on in the background at home and it probably won’t scare you or any visitors. It’s not tame or sanitized, but more of a set of mood pieces with some cool improvisations. Nobody’s trying to shred here, which is one reason it’s so damn good. They’re creating a new form of music partially because they aren’t trying to blow people away.

You can’t go wrong with Miles.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 8- Jan Johansson Jazz på svenska

Johansson’s recordings, much like Stan Getz’ Focus, are difficult to categorize, but that’s a part of why records like this are good. They slip between the cracks of convention; never announcing themselves too loudly, hoping to be found. I found this through our dearly departed Tim Luntzel. It falls into a couple of different categorizations; piano/bass duo, chamber jazz; Scandinavian jazz: film soundtrack- it is all of these at once, and it is special.

Johansson began recording jazz versions of Scandinavian folk songs in 1964 in Sweden, with Georg Riedel on upright bass. The sound is sparse, and when I drive around with these understated songs, I picture a snowy Swedish winterscape of craggy white mountains and frozen fjords, and then in a comfortable home with a fireplace. The music is in black and white in my head- in 1964 not all of the world was colorized.

The themes grow and snake around like windy roads going up a mountain. Throughout the record I feel a sense of nature, but I am thinking and feeling it from afar. The overall mood of the record is CALM. Not CALM as in New Age noodlings. This music tells you a story, if you would care to hear it. As I don’t read or speak Swedish, I don’t know what the titles mean, but I would guess they are about nature and legends and not about IKEA products.

Jan Johansson died on November 9, 1968. The next day I was born. Coincidence? I hadn’t heard this music for the first forty-six years of my life, but once I did I felt like I knew it before. Did I get a touch of Johansson in the ether that flows around new-born babes? Most likely not, but I try to incorporate Johansson’s simplicity and elegance in my playing whenever possible.

Listen to this on a cold and gray day. Look at the sky. Drink it all in.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- February 9- Carmen Miranda

Carmen Miranda was so much more than a dancing and singing Chiquita banana ad. She was more than a movie star or singer. In 1945 she was the highest-paid woman in America and was one of the most popular celebrities. It’s probably safe to say that she helped put Brazil on the map in 1930s America, even though most Americans then and today wouldn’t literally be able to find it on a map. But I digress.

It’s her singing that floors me. More specifically, it’s her phrasing, which sounds so natural and relaxed even though she’s flying all over the place. This is the beginning of samba, and also the start of movie and Broadway making Latin American culture more appealing to Americans. She had to deal with so much bullshit that was typical for female stars of the time (yes, even worse than it is today) but she was an empire unto herself and was an ambassador for Latin America, even if some Brazilians thought she’d sold out. She died of a heart attack at forty-six.

These early recordings from Brazil really show her vocal and musical ability. I’ve put up two examples, but there are so many more. For sheer joy in a seemingly innocent era (with a whole-tone woodwind intro), check this out:

Obrigado, Ms. Miranda.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 10- Elvis Costello and The Brodsky Quartet- The Juliet Letters

It’s always nice to listen to an album and remember who turned you on to that album. Thank you, Tom Paul, for loaning me this CD when it came out, and then taking me to see this incredible group at Town Hall. It was one of the best concerts I’ve ever experienced, and the recording of this concert came out in 2006. The Juliet Letters is a loving combination of modern pop songwriting and post-romantic chamber music, but without sacrificing the qualities of either style. It is really in a world of its own.

The title comes from a titular Shakespeare character. Since the 1930s, the city of Verona, Italy has been flooded with letters simply addressed to: “Juliet Capulet, Verona.” You can read about Juliet here and about some of the people who respond to the letters here. I would love to be a person who writes these replies; after all, it is easier to fix another person’s life than your own. And every young poet needs his/her Rilke to respond in kind.

Costello met the Brodskys in 1989 when they performed Shostakovich’s string quartets in London. I’d say that ol’ Dmitri S. is a big influence on the compositions, but you also have Costello’s own musical and lyrical gifts. They listened to music, wrote music, and talked about music. The result is a song cycle of sorts, with each song being a letter, or some form of writing.

“Deliver Us” is an overture that gives us a glimpse of what is to come. “For Other Eyes” Is a jealousy-tinted song sung by a man, but it is really a woman’s story. “Swine” is fiendish and fun. I do love the line “You’re a swine, and I’m saying that’s an insult to the pig.” The narrator is pissed off and probably in prison hundreds of years ago. “Expert Rites” is a few notches above emotional suicide, and Costello’s vocal is heartbreaking. Did I say that this is also an amazing record for dealing with and/or submerging oneself in self-pity and deepest melancholy?

“Dead Letter” feels like Haydn, Bartok, and Dmitri meeting at Goethe’s place to talk about love and death. It’s an instrumental that doesn’t need a lyric to tell you what it’s about. “I Almost Had a Weakness” has a great near atonal intro that goes into a whirling rhythmic pattern for the vocal. It’s about an aunt who is sick of her family’s shit and doesn’t give a fuck- “And I burned the photographs that you had enclosed/God they were ugly children!” There are many characters in these songs. “Why?” is a kid seeing his parents’ relationship destruct before his eyes. When a song has the lyric “Daddy’s on fire,” it’s probably not going to end nicely. “Who Do You Think You Are?” gives us a little bit of the Costello sneer over a caffeinated barcarolle with beautiful harmonies.

“Taking My Life in Your Hands” is the one that killed me the most when I first heard this record. Maybe the lyric is a bit over-dramatic, but the chorus is so catchy and the harmonic structure so fascinating that I feel like I’m 23 and reading Werther again. Listen to Elvis’ high notes. This dude is fierce. Next, “This Offer is Unrepeatable” is a twisted chain letter, much like the FORWARD THIS TO FIVE FRIENDS NOW OR YOU WILL SUFFER GRAVE CONSEQUENCES emails and Facebook messages a lot of us get. I feel like Mr. Kite was involved in this somehow.

“Dear Sweet Filthy World” is a suicide note wrapped in beautiful strings. It goes from despair to self-mockery to a Wagnerian dissipation. Elvis’ repeated “I can’t go on” is one of the most powerful moments on the album. The quartet follows with an unexpected jaunty coda. “The Letter Home” is set in 1935, a letter besot with British formality that turns into bitterness. Every song in this cycle feels like it is set in a long-ago decade. “Jacksons, Monk, and Rowe” could be a late Motown or a Philly soul song with a groovy band, but the quartet and Elvis turn it into something else. It’s also about lawyers.

“This Sad Burlesque” reminds us that politicians will fail us and say the same shit over and over. It’s not as sad as the title suggests; more like a veil of disillusionment. “Romeo’s Séance” is a man trying to contact his dead lover over a bouncy bolero. The middle instrumental section suggests flying objects controlled by supernatural forces. Romeo is still calling for her when the tune ends. “I Thought I’d Write to Juliet” begins with a cynic describing a letter he received. “When someone is already dead, they can no longer let you down.” But it morphs into what is the heaviest portion of the album, because it paraphrases a letter received from a female fan while she was a soldier in the Gulf War.

“I’m a female soldier, my name is Constance
I enlisted in the military, needing funds for college
I’m twenty-three years old and if I do get home alive
I imagine I may think again…”

“I’m sleeping with my eyes open for fear of attack
Your words are a comfort, they’re the best things that I have
Apart from family pictures and, of course, my gas mask
I don’t know why I am writing to you”


Allegedly, Elvis met her after a concert. I hope this is true.

When I hear “Last Post” it’s 1918 and I see older Germans and Russians discussing what little future they have. There are a few sparks of hope, but it’s the same old thing humanity does over and over to nearly destroy itself.  “The First to Leave” is a letter the narrator leaves for his wife to read after he dies. But is it a letter or a message from the afterlife? The beauty of lyric writing for me is that some of the greatest lyrics let the listener interpret them to fit his/her life. Many different meanings to many different people. “Damnation’s Cellar” is a jaunty reel that turns into a poppy chorus that asks which bastards in history should rot in hell and which heroes should be brought back from the dead. “The Birds Will Still Be Singing” is a sad yet hopeful ending to the cycle. The narrator tells his love that the afterlife is boring, but that she should “Banish all dismay/Extinguish every sorrow/If I’m lost or I’m forgiven/The birds will still be singing.” Out of the darkness and despair come flecks of light and hope.

The birds will still be singing.

P.S. Here’s their version of a “California folk song”:


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 11- Weather Report- Domino Theory

Weather Report is quite possibly the best jazz fusion group there has ever been. At its core throughout its many incarnation were Joe Zawinul on keyboards and Wayne Shorter on saxophone. Both of these masters composed most of the music for the band, and I’ve always been fascinated that Zawinul, the piano player, wrote more line-based tunes, while Shorter wrote heavier chord material. The dichotomy worked.

Domino Theory was recorded in 1983, which was the beginning of the digital keyboard takeover and when what we know as the black vortex of 1980s music really begins. This record doesn’t have that, largely because Zawinul could take a broken-down calliope or accordion and make it sound like heaven. More on that in a future post. The record begins with “Can it Be Done?”, with a soulful vocal by Carl Anderson. It asks: is there a melody that has never been played? I’ve always wondered that. I’ve also wondered why this led off the record, as it’s a ballad and Carl was not a member of the band. But I feel like my vinyl had this tune going third on Side A. Even if it sounds a little out of place, “Can it be Done” is a beautiful song.

Then we get into why so many of us love Weather Report; the unreal playing, composing, sound, and, especially on “Db Waltz”, GROOVE. The was the band’s second record without bass god Jaco Pastorius, but not many people mind when he’s replaced by Victor Bailey. If that’s him growling at 1:12, damn, that’s nasty. Omar Hakim’s drumming is just plain joyous, and makes you want to be his friend. Wayne Shorter has a chorus effect on his horn that makes him sound like he’s snorkeling. He shreds through the vamp as only Wayne could. Listening to this again makes me realize how much I’ve tried to steal from Zawinul, especially in the way he phrases on synths. I’d almost forgotten the “Ba-De-Ap-Ba” vocal part, which adds to an involved but happy groove.

“The Peasant” is one of those WR tunes that defies categorization. It’s a mood piece, but I’m not sure whose mood it is. Zawinul wrote it, so there’s that. It’s a hypnotic piece that uses the Emulator, an early sampler. It sounds like what you feel if Austria had a jungle and you got lost in it at the summer solstice. “Predator” is a funky track, with a catchy melody. Bailey, Hakim, and percussionist Jose Rossy make you want to dance, something you can’t say about most fusion records. It’s Wayne’s tune. Genius. “Swamp Cabbage” is another funky tune in ¾, only there’s a hyena synth crying out every once in a while. It’s like the Serengeti moved to Lake Ponchatrain and Zawinul captured the process. “Blue Sound-Note 3” does the same thing, only in the Andromeda galaxy. Wayne’s entrance is stately and elegant. Vocoder, cool chords, and a mélange of other moods fill it out. Then there’s a melody and feeling that only Zawinul could write. He hits a certain type of melancholy with announcing the fact. Then the vocoder kicks back in. This tune does a lot in fewer than seven minutes. “Domino Theory” closes out the record, with some crazed hi-hat patterns that Zawinul programmed. He’s also playing some gnarly lines and a swirling angry synth sound. Victor rips through his solo. This is almost the predecessor of drum-and-bass.

Every Weather Report takes you on a tour of new worlds, some of them familiar and some less so. It’s always worth the ride though. I got to see this band when I was 15, and only for a few songs, because it was 3 A.M. and our tour bus was leaving. One of the regrets of my listening life was not seeing the rest of the set. Later in life I was able to play first with Zawinul and then record with Victor Bailey. They were huge gifts to mankind and to music, and both of them are no longer with us. Blast this record while you’re driving down the street and see what happens. It’ll be good.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 12-The Dave Brubeck Quartet- Brubeck Time

SOME people think that Dave Brubeck is overrated, can’t swing, didn’t deserve all these accolades he received- I call those people WRONG. Like Stan Getz, he’s sometimes put down by jazz nerds partially because he was popular. Sometimes popular isn’t too bad. In the case of this record, which put him on the cover of Time magazine in 1954, it’s the understated West Coast Cool that makes this album feel really good. It’s one of Brubeck’s early rhythm sections- Bob Bates on bass and Joe Dodge on drums. This is Brubeck before odd time signatures, when his quartet was big to jazz fans and college students, but not the million-selling arena-filling Brubeck of “Take Five”. Add to all that the advantage he had of being white. Just because you’re white doesn’t mean your jazz sucks, but it makes some of us want to prove that we’re not Wonder Bread Jazz.

Alto saxophonist Paul Desmond’s minor blues “Audrey” kicks off the record. It’s wistful and melancholic, with an impressionistic piano intro by Brubeck. Desmond said he used to wait outside of Audrey Hepburn’s stage door when she was on Broadway in the play Ondine. He watched her get in her limousine many times but could never get the nerve to say anything to her. Most guys will know the feeling of loving a beautiful woman you will never meet, and the self-inflicted pain that goes with it. You can feel it here.

“Jeepers Creepers” is a semi-standard from the 1930s, but it gets a nice Brubeck arrangement here. Brubeck can sound clunky at times, but he’s got a lot of Duke Ellington in him, and harmonically he was way ahead of most piano players of the day. Brubeck’s compositional studies with Darius Milhaud really paid off. “Pennies from Heaven” is a medium-swing tune and shows Desmond’s vast melodic abilities. He’s musically present, ironic, and detached all at the same time, but he never plays something he doesn’t mean. Desmond is the only W.W. II era alto player to emerge without being directly affected by Charlie Parker’s titanic genius. That’s like being a German composer in the 1830s who doesn’t sound a bit like Beethoven. Brubeck’s solo is motivic and has the quirky harmonic elements that are some of my favorite things about his playing.

“Why Do I Love You?” is a Jerome Kern tune I wish I got to hear and play more. It’s brisk, although I should say “West Coast brisk”, which is a few ticks slower than NYC bop and with different shadings. Think Seurat instead of Van Gogh or Delacroix. They don’t just play the head, solo, and play the head again, like a lot of 1950s jazz, but have arrangements with rhythmic and harmonic points of interest. The same goes for the rest of the album, all standards, with “Keepin’ Out of Mischief Now” being my personal favorite. This is jazz that you can play for your muggle friends, and it won’t scare them. But it also has some unexpected twists in it, like most Brubeck/Desmond combinations.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 13- Peter Gabriel-So

As I came to my teenage years in the 1980s, I can easily assert that pop music sucked more then than in any other era (except for the last sixteen years, but that’s another story). As in any era of uninspired art, there are always brilliant works that stand out. Peter Gabriel’s So is one of the best pop records of the 1980s, and of any decade.

“Red Rain” kicks if off with an energetic but gloomy mood. You’d be bummed if you had blood-colored water falling on you, but this stellar band hits you so hard that you don’t mind the dampness. Stewart Copeland (The Police) enters with a hi-hat pattern for a few measures until Jerry Marotta (drums) Tony Levin (bass) David Rhodes (guitar) and producer/guitarist Daniel Lanois enter for Gabriel’s vocal. Kevin Killen told a group of us that this track alone had over thirty edits, and an edit in those days wasn’t done with a few clicks of a computer mouse. He eased the 2 -inch analog tape on the recording head until he found the right spot and pulled out the x-acto knife. I can’t hear these remarkable edits, but I know he does.

“Sledgehammer” was the big hit, and it sounds a helluva lot better than other songs on the radio from 1986. It also had a trippy video that challenged the limits of what a music video should be. The track owes a bit to Stevie Wonder, especially when the horns kick in. This is a pretty funky track for a pretty un-funky decade. “Don’t Give Up” is one of the best songs about, well, not giving up. It goes from the male narrator detailing his lousy life to the angelic Kate Bush encouraging him to keep going. It’s a mysterious ¾ groove that goes from moody to hopeful and back again, with a gospel interlude to provide anthemic inspiration that isn’t anywhere near being contrived. Glorious fadeout.

Drummer Manu Katche slays “That Voice Again”. What a feel! I was obsessed with this tune (the whole record, really) wondering HOW DID THEY GET THAT SOUND? There are so many textures on this record that I keep hearing new stuff every listen, and I’ve been listening for thirty years. That’s the end of Side A. Yes, I have the cassette.

A lot of Gen X kids will see Lloyd Dobler with the boom box when they hear “In Your Eyes”. It is at once so very 1980s yet so timeless. Youssou N’Dour’s vocal outro is one of the best and inspiring vocals there is on record. I’m usually not a fan of vocal riffing, but this is YOUSSOU N’DOUR. Look him up if you don’t already know him. “Mercy Street”, like most of So is a moldy minor key piece. So English that you can see the fog coming out of the speakers. It glides more than grooves. “Big Time” was another hit, and I can’t help but quoting “I’m on my way I’m making it” a lot, and usually not when the words are appropriate. It’s all about a small-town man going to the big city to make it, and everything will be big. This tune is also funky. A real Hammond B3! “We Do What We’re Told Milgram’s 37) is an electronica underworld, with the title chanted in group unison. It’s a quiet nod to the desperation of conformity. Finally, Laurie Anderson guests on “This Is the Picture (Excellent Birds)”. It has a distinctly Gabriel-ish keyboard part, the one that sounds like flutes. Another one of those where-did-that-sound-come-from puzzles for me. It closes the album out on a dreamy note, although it’s not a dream you want to have every night.

Listen to it again, or for the first time. I told you SO.


ALBUM OF THE DAY-February 14- My Funny Valentine: Miles Davis in Concert

I am about as fond of Valentine’s Day as I am of paper cuts, but if Miles is bringing a growly but sensitive valentine message, I’m down. This was recorded live at Lincoln Center, NYC on February 12, 1964. It’s got most of the members of what we call Miles’ second great quintet: Herbie Hancock on piano, Ron Carter on bass, and Tony Williams on drums. The always underrated George Coleman is on tenor saxophone. The album “Four and More” is from the same concert, but “My Funny Valentine” focuses on the slower and introspective tunes of the night.

The title track is an old Rodgers-Hart classic, and Miles plays it without a mute. Muted trumpet became the thing on ballads largely due to Miles’ use of the harmon mute. Herbie’s piano intro is introspective, with Bill Evans, Bud Powell, and Debussy all converging into his hands. Miles is shy about his valentine at first, but the band kicks into a double time feel and he tells us more how he feels with bursts of sound. I think it’s impossible to write about Miles without using the word “motherfucker”. He was one, after all. George Coleman’s solo is neither bop or post-bop, just a great sonic painting. Herbie’s solo is, well, HERBIE HANCOCK.

Cole Porter’s “All of You” gives us Miles with the harmon mute, and also shows some of the musical clairvoyance the group had. The performance goes so many places, time-wise and harmonically, that it’s difficult to explain without hearing it. Like some of the 1950s quintet’s records, there are extended vamps that go wherever the collective consciousness of the band wants them to go. I love the way Coleman enters; he has way more command thatn you’d think, especially if you compare him to Coltrane or Wayne Shorter. Herbie’s solo is one of the classic jazz piano solos of all time.

It should go without saying that this band broke new ground in music. Ron Carter is the most recorded bassist in history for a reason; he’s steady, even when Tony Williams is messing with the pulse. It should also go without saying that Tony changed drumming forever, innovating the role of the drums and where the beat is and where it can be. He was nineteen at the time of this concert, but had already changed drumming forever.

“Stella by Starlight” is another standard, with a rubato intro by Davis and Hancock. It’s a blueprint for what post-1960 jazz can be. The rhythm section slowly enters and they go into a double-time feel, although one with lots of space. “All Blues” is from Miles’ record “Kind of Blue” (Get it now if you don’t already have it) but this tempo is a lot faster, and Hancock adds some seriously cool sub chord changes. It might not be recognizable to a lot of people compared to the original, but that’s how great improvised music develops. To close the album (the vinyl from 1964) the quintet plays “I Thought About You”, a Jimmy Van Heusen classic. It starts slowly and softly, then builds up. I only noticed now that the only time George Coleman plays is on his solos. There are no unison melodies or parts, or any arrangements, per se. This is how a modern jazz group is supposed to sound.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 15- Elliott Smith-Either/Or

I went through a serious Elliott Smith kick last year. It’s not like I don’t love him now or didn’t before, but he affected me more than any other “pop” artist in my long listening history. Looking back with a little distance at my obsession, I’m really glad Elliott spoke to me from beyond the grave and got me to really work on my songwriting. He really understood the craft of making a song, no matter what style or genre. Which is not to say he drifted from genre to genre; he pretty much WAS a genre.
Either/Or, from 1997, pays homage to Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard in more than just the title. The existentialist crises of my X generation are well represented here, starting with “Speed Trials”. Elliott’s lyric writing was a revelation to me; I like songs that don’t have an obvious meaning. You can come up with a multitude of explanations for this song, but most people think it’s about drugs, specifically, heroin. I’m not so sure. “He’s pleased to meet you underneath the horse/
In the cathedral with the glass stained black/ Singing sweet high notes that echo back/
To destroy their master… It’s just a brief smile crossing your face/Running speed trials/ still standing in place”. Hell, this could mean anything. I think of horse races, foreboding not-so-merry-go-rounds, and mildly sinister characters. The main thing though, is the music itself. It’s a great melody with semi-ominous chords underneath. Actually, I could say that about just about every E.S. tune. Sometimes I think he’s the David Foster Wallace of singer-songwriters. He knows so much and puts it together so well. He also played all the instruments and recorded it in a variety of apartments and house in California and Oregon.

Like a lot of Smith’s tunes, “Alameda” has a great fuck-you tinge to it. “Nobody broke your heart/you broke your own ‘cause you can’t/finish what you start”. I wish I knew this song when I was younger. The snare sound is pretty cool, as are the chord changes. Elliott knew how to write chords that sounded almost normal, but that are far more complex when you analyze them. “Ballad of Big Nothing” has a great hook and an almost passive-aggressive chorus that is part you suck and part I don’t care.

Elliott worshipped at the pillars of misery. Yet he rarely feels like he’s drowning in self-pity to me. He could write a sad fucking waltz too. “Between the Bars” could be about jail, bar-hopping, drugs, or maybe all three:

Drink up, baby, look at the stars
I’ll kiss you again, between the bars
Where I’m seeing you there, with your hands in the air
Waiting to finally be caught

It’s haunting and sad, but doesn’t wallow, largely because it’s such a strong melody. Like the songs of John Prine and Townes Van Zandt, Elliott makes you smile in one line and feel like you got punched in the next line. The difference is that you know where Townes and Prine hit you, but Elliott’s pain-punches could be anywhere on you and in your soul.

“Pictures of Me” and “No Name No .5” ride on the ether trails of misery and self-loathing, but never dip below them. “Rose Parade” is ostensibly about a parade in Portland, but according to Elliott is more of a commentary on events that are full of themselves. “Punch and Judy” is one of the bouncier tunes on the album, that is; if you can all anything Elliott does “bouncy”. He compares modern romantic life to the olde English violent puppet show, although the contemporary scenes don’t involve beating someone with a bat. “Angeles” shows off Smith’s picking skills and breathy vocals. “Cupid’s Trick” has some interesting chords that would be creepy with a heavy-handed approach, but it lies in a nether world full of sugar, lies, and dope. Maybe.


I’m going out sleepwalking
Where mute memories start talking.


It’s 2:45 A.M. He feels abused, and he’s gonna split them back in two. It’s far more shaded than it sounds by the way I wrote it.

The album closes with “Say Yes”, which is as close to a love song as Elliott ever wrote. It’s a beautiful melody that unfolds in different ways. You can find the lyrics here.

I’ll be writing about this dude a few more times this year. He’s one of the best songwriters of the last fifty years, according to Drydo. And Drydo’s always right.



This is some of the most grooving, sexiest, and bumpiest (is that a word?) stuff you will ever hear. “Honky Tonk Pt. 1 and 2” is one of the best examples of the shuffle there is. Those handclaps and screams add to the majesty. If you don’t move a bit when you hear this, you are dead. Or something worse. In fact, if this doesn’t make you move, I don’t want to know you. Now, this GUITAR SOLO. It’s Billy Butler, and those last two choruses should be ground zero for any guitarist. I’m sure some of you know this tune from “Blue Velvet.” I know who you are.

If you want to know how to play a slow swinging groove, “After Hours” should do it. That hi-hat. Damn, that’s so hard to keep a groove sitting in that spot. When Doggett’s organ comes roaring in, the strippers drop their fans to the ground and make you the center of attention. It’s grinding music. As this is a YouTube playlist, it’s not a real album, just a curator’s take on what Doggett’s greatest hits could be. They all hit. Is that Gene Ammons on tenor? Earl Bostic? This is what a juke joint should sound like. “Peacock Alley”, “High Heels” “Slow Walk”- these are all basically blues tunes with slightly different feels that kick the shit out of mediocrity and pour gasoline on it “Ram-Bunk-Shush” is not so rambunctious as it is about having a great time.

It’s impossible to not have a great time with Bill Doggett. There are many more tunes of his out there if you want to find them. I think you need to find them.


SONG OF THE DAY- February 17-The Fiery Furnaces- Tropical Iceland (Remix)


I’m going with one song today, and it is a bit odd compared to some other stuff I’ve written about. But I can credit Brooklyn’s Café Steinhof and its mid 2000s staff for introducing me to this song.

The Fiery Furnaces are a Brooklyn indie band started by brother and sister Mathew and Eleanor Friedberger in 2000. You could call it alternative rock 2.0, or folky-trippy power pop.

There’s something about the remix version that gets me; it’s the drums or the manic synth hook, or her sexy voice singing a great melody. The acoustic original is slower and dreamier, which makes the lyrics feel more mystical to me. The remix, however, pumps everything up into an irresistible stomp beat.

I can only rely on my Icelandic friends and people like Danielle Crook to tell me if the lyrics make more sense if you’ve been to Reykjavik. I quote them here:

Goat’s head in the deli case
Oh sweet angel-angel-bearded face
Paper Mache parade on at night
That’s what you do with no sunlight

In the tropical tropical
Tropical ice-land

Bleak church on a cold tundra
Black stone beach and a black death bottle
Is all me and my baby will need

In the tropical, tropical
Tropical ice-land

Take intermission at the movies
Freeze outside for one quick smoke
Take a Klondike bar from the pop machine
Hey it’s ice cream, no not coke

In the tropical tropical
Tropical ice-land

Let’s meet in Kristiana next summer
Let’s get out before we melt away
I’ve seen enough stray ponies and puffins
To get me through till the end of May

In the tropical tropical
Tropical ice-land.


It’s not a deep message; more of a series of observations with a very catchy melody. The video is superbly low-budget and cheesy, but don’t let it throw you off. Now I have to delve further into The Fiery Furnaces twisted catalog. Brooklyn Uber Alles!


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 18- Jimmy Giuffre 3- Trav’lin’ Light

Jimmy Giuffre was a jazz musician unlike anyone else. He’s thought of as a West Coast and Cool Jazz player, but he wrote for the Woody Herman big band and led some of the earliest and most musical forays into free jazz (music that is often wholly improvised). In this 1958 recording, his trio is very unusual; Giuffre on clarinet, tenor and baritone saxophones, Bob Brookmeyer on valve trombone, and Jim Hall on guitar. Not a piano, bass, or drum set in sight. Nobody played with this instrumentation, and nobody else could play like these guys. It’s melodic, it swings, and it feels like you’ve gone down a jazz hallway you didn’t know existed, and it’s welcoming and warming.

The title track is a bluesy tune by Johnny Mercer, and there is a little bit of tailgate trombone and pungent clarinet, supported by Hall’s beautiful shuffle guitar. You don’t miss the rest of the rhythm section that you expected to hear. It’s familiar, but odd. It’s so natural and musical that I feel like the hard bop police are going to break up the session for being too folky. “The Swamp People” is a Guiffre blues, and the trombone ostinato sounds like someone is hiding out in the Bayou reeds. It’s a mildly sinister sound, and the interplay between the three players is lovely. You feel like they’re in your living room.

“The Green Country” is Giuffre’s ode to New England, and holy shit do I hear and feel the Northeast. It’s reminiscent of Aaron Copland, which is why I feel the original Americana swirling around. I’d call this chamber jazz, because it’s intimate, classically influenced, and so damn melodic. Harry Warren’s Broadway hit “Forty Second Street” shows a different side of that midtown block. It’s darker and seedier, but not terribly menacing. It lopes and swings like crazy. They remind me of the band Weather Report, where either everybody’s soloing or nobody’s soloing. “Pick ‘Em Up and Lay ‘Em Down” is another of Giuffre’s tunes where the melody sounds like a Mississippi steamboat. Jazz guys in 1958 weren’t really checking out old Delta Blues music, but this band seems to know who Skip James is. Huck Finn too, for that matter. Another Giuffre piece “The Lonely Time” is just that; it’s slow and mournful, with beautiful moving lines between all three instruments. Sure it’s a lonely time, but you’re in a house with an autumnal view and books and a fireplace. The whole record could be a soundtrack to a movie in my head.

“Show Me the Way to Go Home” is a 1920s drinking song. If this band has a glass of anything, it would be sherry or a ruby port, not the collegiate quaffs of the original. They’re having fun, but not getting trashed. Although I’d like to hear that. The original album closes with “California Here I Come”, the 1920s hit that inspired millions to move West. It’s a fast swing tempo, and they keep the momentum perfectly without the crutch of a rhythm section. Guiffre is probably my favorite clarinetist and baritone player. His phrasing and ideas are so original.

Trav-lin’ Light is just one of many amazing Guiffre trio records. It should be required listening for anyone who is stuck in a musical rut and has  run out of ideas. There will be more of Jimmy G in future posts.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 19-The (English) Beat- I Just Can’t Stop It


This record forces me to dance, albeit dancing in a 1980s ska-boy kind of way. While the New Wave movement was going on in the UK and America in the late 1970s, there was also the Two-Tone movement, which employed ska and reggae with a a call for racial equality. The “movement” terminology is used to categorize different music for easy recoginization, not to confine artists into a set of parameters. I’m beginning to think that most people who name their ideology or artistic style are cult leaders, economists, and megalomaniacs. Sometimes you find all three of those in one person. I’d give my conclusion a name, but….

Anyway, back to the inescapable joy and grooves in this 1980 release. Dave Wakeling is the lead singer on most tracks, and his “Mirror in the Bathroom” is a classic for those of us who liked beats and melodies but didn’t fit in to the preppy pop world or the trenchcoat mafia crews. Anyone can appreciate the melody and lyric of “Hands Off She’s Mine” and Ranking Roger’s toasting on Prince Buster’s “Rough Rider”. “Twist and Crawl”, “Noise in This World”, and “Click Click” are manic and almost dangerous calls to the dance floor.

My friend Adam Beach once said that “Ska is Reggae on 45”. For those of you who are too young to know what that means, look up your phonographic history. The verse of “Big Shot” could be a Dennis Brown track if there were amphetamines involved instead of cannabis. The chorus is closer to a New Wave sneer, a critique of someone who is too full of himself. We all know that guy, but we don’t always get a chance to dance when he’s being called out on his shit.  “Whine and Grine” is another Prince Buster update, coupled with “Stand Down Margaret”, one of the best anti-Thatcher songs that gets its point across without preaching. “Can’t Get Used TO Losing You” is a Doc Pomus tune that was a hit for Andy Williams. Wakeling, Pomus, and Andy Williams aren’t three names I’d ever think would wind up in the same sentence, but this cover is a sad but pulsating one-drop. “Best Friend” features a Byrds-like 12-string guitar, along with the great tenor lines of Saxa. I hear Juice Newton’s “Queen of Hearts” in the chorus. Which one came first? Does it matter? Wakeling and Roger just want a woman’s touch in “Jackpot” and it sure sounds like they found it.

This is the order of the original album, but the one I grew up with had their cover of Smokey Robinson’s “Tears of a Clown”, and I can count it as one of the best re-makes in pop history. They speed it up, and while I feel the rejection of Smokey’s lyric, it’s better to be crying on the dance floor than by yourself in a dark place. Not that Smokey was ever in a dark place. His use of Pagliacci showed me that operatic subjects can cross over to pop music. “Ranking Full Stop” is Ranking Roger at his finest, singing and toasting over a rock steady groove. At least, I think it’s a rock steady groove. Drummers, chime in?

Put this on while driving a little too fast, or when you need a musical pick-me-up, or when you need to move and exorcise the little demons from your soul. It will work.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 20- Nancy Wilson and Cannonball Adderley


There are albums by great jazz singers and there are albums by great jazz musicians. This one is both. It’s been in my top 5 vocal jazz albums for over thirty years, and it’s so ensconced in my brain and soul that I sometimes forget it is there. Yet there it is, a hard-swinging yet easygoing record that HAS to be heard by every aspiring jazz singer, and really should be heard by everyone.

Alto saxophonist Julian “Cannonball” Adderley and his cornet-wielding brother Nat were already jazz stars when they recorded this in 1961. Nancy Wilson had a few albums already under her name, but this association with the brothers from Florida really put her on the map. It’s such a strong album that most singers can’t sing these songs without referencing these versions, unless they completely change the song. This is very true of Buddy Johnson’s “Save Your Love for Me”, a slow bluesy ballad. It’s the arrangements that add that musical umami to the mix, as their structure and melody let Ms. Wilson’s interpretations really sing. Sing she does, and she holds no stops on this opening number. If the coda to this tune doesn’t make you worship Nancy, then you must be on some drug I don’t want to know about.

There are a number of instrumentals on the record, and they all have the charm and melodiousness that I expect from a Cannonball record. For me, there’s no other jazz musician who personifies joy better than Cannon. Even when he’s coaxing and soothing a sad ballad “I Can’t Get Started”, you feel that he’s going to be ebullient again soon. Nat’s muted horn (he’s really underrated, especially with his muted playing) shines on his tune “Teaneck” which might be the best tune named after a town in Jersey. Nancy kills “Never Will I Marry”, a Frank Loesser song about the joys of living free with no one else to worry about. I can relate.

Like a lot of the tunes here, “The Old Country” is a standard, but not an often-played standard. That’s one thing about Nancy’s tunes here- she wasn’t the first to record them, but she might as well be the last, as these are the industry standard ways to perform the tunes. “The Old Country” is a rare standard song, in that it talks about an old man wishing to be back in whatever country he grew up in. It’s a refreshing lyric in a sea of love songs. Plus, it has that great minor key progression and a sense that it IS old. Germany? Bulgaria? The Middle East? Old, but timeless, like everything on this album. “One Man’s Dream” (by Joe Zawinul, appearing for the third time in my series), “Unit 7” (by bassist Sam Jones, another underrated talent), and Cannonball’s “Never Say Yes”; these are all prime examples of what hard bop sounds like at its most musical. Drummer Louis Hayes swings so subtly that you forget he’s really steering the ship.

Ms. Wilson really displays her chops and emotional range on “The Masquerade is Over”, one of the best lesser-known standards that talks about dealing with a breakup. Dinah Washington fans would agree with me. She CRUSHES the ending. After that, she sasses up the Harold Arlen/Truman Capote swinger “A Sleepin’ Bee” from the Broadway musical House of Flowers. Capote’s Southern-infused lyric makes less sense when taken out of context of the musical, but in the end, it is a sophisticated love song:

A sleepin’ bee done told me
I’ll walk with my feet off the ground
When my one true love I have found.


You’ll walk with your feet off the ground after you hear this buoyant record. It’s a classic.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- February 21- Steely Dan-The Royal Scam

Sure, you could say, as my good friend Dave McGillicuddy did, that Steely Dan sounds like music recorded in the sterile environment of a hospital, or you could say (like my other great friend Anthony Lacques did) that Steely Dan is the band every band likes but no one wants to sound like. Since those guys aren’t on FB, they can’t refute their statements, which could be true. But the fact is that Steely Dan made some really fucking great records.

By this point in the band’s timeline they were less of a band than a rotating cast of studio musicians nailing the musical ideas of Donald Fagen and Walter Becker. This is far from a bad thing, especially when you’ve got Chuck Rainey, Bernard Purdie, Larry Carlton and many other badasses playing on your tunes. “Kid Charlemagne” hits us with Purdie’s hi-hat and a C7#9 chord right away. The groove is bouncy while swinging and locked in at the same time. Fagen’s lyrics, ostensibly about a legendary purveyor of hallucinogens, is cryptic and funny. I will always say “Is there gas in the car? Yes, there’s gas in the car!!!” whenever I go on a road trip. This is also my favorite Larry Carlton guitar solo, culled from several different passes. It’s up there in the top 25 rock guitar solos ever recorded. The Dan seemed to get something out of Carlton that I don’t hear him doing on other records.

“The Caves of Altamira” is about the loss of innocence as well as the actual prehistoric cave paintings. I’ve always related to the thrill of finding something no one else has seen in thousands of years, before there was even any Hollywood. For all of us music geeks, it’s a haven for slash chords.

“Don’t Take Me Alive” could be the anthem for any paranoid militia group, if they only listened to Steely Dan. I don’t think Fagen and Becker would appreciate a crazed ideology co-opting their song, but it is a catchy tune about saying fuck you to the world. Carlton kills this one too.  “Sign in Stranger” is a half-time funky groove with some great guitar fills and a solo by Elliott Randall. It could be about a guy who gets undesirables across a border, but with Donald Fagen, you never really know. No matter how funky the track is, it seems like a zombie-filled place I wouldn’t want to be in for long. Purdie really makes “The Fez” work. It’s like Barry Manilow got attacked by a bunch of funk goons with coke spoons dangling around their exposed checks. There’s a sparkly curtain in there. I’ve always felt it. At any rate, if you wear a fez for any reason, you have to sing to everyone within a mile radius that you ain’t gonna do it without the fez on. It’s the goddamn law.

Side B. Yes, it’s an ALBUM. “Green Earrings” has another slick groove and more slash chords. It seems to be about a remorseless jewel thief, and it feels like he’s crashing Studio 54 with The Dan, a few Mexican bandits, and Miss February. The guitars jump out and chew on your ears, but it’s a good sensation. Dean Parks’ talk-box guitar (not just for Peter Frampton anymore) drives the reggae-funk of “Haitian Divorce”. This is actually a straight-forward lyric; two people around Port-Au-Prince get married too young and realize their mistake too late. It ranks with Bacharach’s “Mexican Divorce” in songs about the end of marriage. I will have to say that when I had The Royal Scam on cassette, I fast-forwarded it through “Everything You Did” and its odd cadences and obvious dominant 7th chords. It’s grown on me now, as I didn’t have the experience at age nineteen (hey!) to really feel the impact of:

Where did the bastard run
Is he still around
Now you gotta tell me everything you did baby
I’m gonna get a gun

Shoot the lover down
Are you gonna tell me everything you did baby
Traces are everywhere
In our happy home.


It seemed a bit harsh then. Now I know human nature a lot better and fucking GET IT. The dominant 7th chords still feel like they stepped on a slug or a whoopee cushion.

The title track closes the album, and it’s as close to being an epic track as Steely Dan gets after their first two albums. It’s slow but a little scary, like the guy with spasms and the crazy eyes walking down your street late at night. The song is about immigrants coming to America to find that Big Dream it promises, only to have their illusions shattered. Or it could be about pizza, for all I know with Fagen. The music sits there, like it doesn’t have to go anywhere. Kind of like the subjects’ BROKEN DREAMS. Musically, it’s an odd tune to end on, but it does give a finality to the record.

Even though this record wasn’t well-received when it came out, it’s come to be seen as one of the best albums of the 1970s. Aside from Stevie Wonder, I don’t know any other artists who can make jazz chords so catchy. It’s the melody, musicianship and production values that make these tunes work. Listen to this record and see the glory of The Royal Scam.


ALBUM OF THE DAY-February 22- Herbie Hancock- Headhunters

In case you don’t know this record, you should get it immediately. I should say that about every record I talk about, but Headhunters is the record that really married jazz and funk with electronic keyboards and made it groove. The album cover is so iconic I have a bumper sticker of it on my car. Get the funk while you fill your tank!


This was 1973, and Herbie Hancock was already a jazz star, but his previous records were a little out there and with larger ensembles (check Mwandishi, Sextant, Fat Albert Rotunda). He wanted to do something different and not as far-out. It’s a good thing for the world that he was really into Stevie Wonder and Sly and the Family Stone (if you are not into those two, then I don’t know you). Stevie, Sly, and Miles’ Bitches Brew all contributed to this groovy record. You get hit with the synth bass line of “Chameleon” immediately. It’s one of the most famous bass lines in American music, and the tune is common in blues and funk jams, even though nobody really knows how to play it right. Drummer Harvey Mason joins in with a simple but lightly syncopated beat.  Then the inimitable bassist Paul Jackson enters with a riff that is more guitar-like but has a funky aura about it. Herbie plays a Clavinet with a wah-wah effect- the magic of overdubbing. The tenor saxophone of the underrated Bennie Maupin joins Herbie’s lead synth for the melody. The tune is over sixteen minutes long, so they aren’t in a hurry. They let it grow and breathe. Listening to it now, I don’t think they recorded to a click track, as the tempo varies slightly over time. Not like it matters. Mason doesn’t even go to his ride cymbal until after six minutes have gone by. Herbie’s synth solo goes out of tune near the end, but they quickly go to the hook part of the melody.

Next comes the part that nobody plays when this is called at a jam, mostly because hardly anybody has figured out what it is. Jackson switches to one of his trademark through-composed bass parts, and percussionist Bill Summers jacks it up a bit with congas that play nicely off of mason’s building groove. Is this middle section Bb7sus to Db7sus? Whatever it is, it’s funky, and Herbie’s Fender Rhodes solo is so warm sounding that I feel relaxed hearing it, even if he’s playing some crazy shit. We get the melody again, and then another WTF IS THIS part. They don’t tell you about this section in school.

You know you are a badass when you’re thirty-three and covering a hit tune of yours from a decade earlier. This version of “Watermelon Man” is not much like the original that Mongo Santamaria had a hit with. Summers imitates the Hindewho, and African instrument, by blowing into a beer bottle. It’s unsettling at first, but then you want to hear that sound on every other record. This version is more laid back, like the dude on the corner who drives a decked-out Cadillac and is cool because he’s laid back and doesn’t care, even if he has a nasty habit or two.

“Sly” starts in a spaced-out synth string paradise but goes into a double time feel soprano sax solo by Maupin. The groove is almost frantic, but never out of control. You could dance to it, but you might be better off smoking a bowl and feeling the rhythms pour into you. Get ready for the Rhodes solo, where Herbie pulls out a lot of his tricks. I can’t say enough about Herbie’s playing in terms of influencing me, but his Rhodes playing on this and other albums is pretty much the basis for how I approach the instrument. It gets intense, then calms down for a return of the melody, which always reminded me of pipe smoke going up into the air. You can hear the sounds of Sly in the brash hits of the intro and outro.

“Vein Melter” gets us back into chill-out big comfy pillow land. Mason gets a march-like motif going, and things enter and swirl until you’re not sure which room you’re in when the synth strings come in. Is that the Mad Hatter in the corner or an opium dealer? Maupin enters with a calming phrase that lingers for a bit, until Herbie discovers some fancy electronic gizmos. I’m guessing there’s an Echoplex and maybe a ring modulator. The Synth-Of-Another-Room returns, then so does the melody. It grows, and morphs, but never rises up like the attack dog you could imagine it is. It’s actually very friendly, even if it barks in a strange tone. On top of all this, there’s bass clarinet! Bass clarinet makes most things better. I had the good fortune and honor to tour with Mr. Maupin, and when he pulled out his bass clarinet, I asked him if it was the same axe he used on Headhunters and Thrust.

It was.

Fanboy geek dream achieved. One of many. You’ll hear about them.

Buy this record.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- February 23- Tom Waits- Blood Money


Even if the world woke up and realized that Tom Waits (and spouse/co-lyricist Kathleen Brennan) is one of the greatest musical gifts of the past fifty years, he’d still be underrated in my eyes and ears. He has so many great records, songs, styles, and personas that it’s hard for me to name just a few. However, these two records came out on the same day in 2002, and are songs that Waits wrote for plays directed by Robert Wilson. Blood Money is based on the Beuchner play Woyzeck ( also the inspiration for the brilliant and atonal opera by Alban Berg, and Waits’ songs reflect the dark story of a 19th century German soldier who kills his girlfriend out of jealousy. It’s perfect fodder for Waits, who has always been a friend of the dark side of human nature.

Blood Money begins with two songs that certainly live in the dark spaces. “Misery is the River of the World” and “Everything Goes to Hell” are fairly self-explanatory, and the musical textures and lyrics add to the angst without turning the songs maudlin or overly dramatic. “Misery” combines marimba, bass clarinet, and what sounds like German stormtroopers marching through the studio and down your soul. If you aren’t familiar and prepared for the sound of Waits’ voice, you will be even more creeped out. He sounds like the merger of Louis Armstrong, a drill instructor, and a bourbon-laced carnival barker, with the rasp of someone who’s been gargling with razor blades for decades. Some of you might be turned off by this, but I think a lot of us will get this side of Waits’ musical personality.
We go from hell to Brooklyn bliss with “Coney Island Baby.” If I wind up marrying a Brooklyn gal somehow, this would be our first dance. We’ve gone from Germanic angst to a Brooklyn-Irish waltz with odd instrumentation. It’s sentiment without sentimentality:

Every night she comes

To take me off to dreamland

When I’m with her, I’m the richest man in the town

She’s a rose, she’s the pearl

She’s the spin on my world

All the stars make their wishes on her eyes


She’s my Coney Island baby

She’s my Coney Island girl


She’s a princess in a red dress

She’s the moon in the mist to me

She’s my Coney Island baby

She’s my Coney Island girl.


Simple, dreamy, and beautiful. She might just be a dream, but it’s the dream I’d want every night.
Next up is “All the World is Green.” The narrator is asking his wife for forgiveness and a second chance to go back to the old days, when all the world was green. It’s a stark and marimba-filled song of poignancy. Form-wise, the song seems simple on first listen, but the sections change in metrical length, seemingly at random. Lyrically, the narrator weaves off his pleading path and into nature metaphors. Woyzeck went mad; perhaps this is the early signs of his disease. “God’s Away on Business” gets us back to the dark Germanic vibe, with log drums and Waits’ quietly demonic voice telling us that all our problems now don’t mean shit because God doesn’t give a fuck. I’ve found this to be a perfect metaphor for these troubled times, only the people who should hear this never will.

F minor is one of the starker and darker of the minor chords. I think East German and Russian doom and gloom, and Waits pulls it out here in a waltz. Great chords- I think this could make a great slow jazz waltz, although the singer better be ready to talk about adultery. He smells a red rose blooming on another man’s vine. You can do the math. “Knife Chase” is an instrumental that imagines Perez Prado, Link Wray, and the Wallendas stuck in a barrel. And this is a good thing.

Now Waits hits us with the sadness. I’m immediately near tears from a lot of lullabies, and always have been. There’s something about their musical construct and sad sweetness that hits me. “Lullaby” is a cradle song, but an oversized Tim Burton-esque cradle with jagged rails, perched on top of a craggy mountain. Or it’s deep in the woods, dark and slightly foreboding. It’s not a story we’d usually hear at bedtime, but too many kids have had to deal with the theme of the lyrics:

Sun is red; moon is cracked
Daddy’s never coming back
Nothing’s ever yours to keep
Close your eyes, go to sleep
If I die before you wake
Don’t you cry don’t you weep.

Nothing’s ever as it seems
Climb the ladder to your dreams
If I die before you wake
Don’t you cry; don’t you weep
Nothing’s ever yours to keep.

Close your eyes; go to sleep.


Not exactly calming material, especially when delivered from a voice that’s as cracked as the moon. But I can’t help but love it and its acknowledgement to the impermanence of life. One of the top 7 Waits ballads for me.

“Starving in the Belly of a Whale” is the further adventures of Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Weill, and Cookie Monster as they’re stuck in a demonic funhouse in the crooked  old world. “The Part You Throw Away” is a sparse pizzicato waltz. Tom and Kathleen have a way with words:

I want that beggar’s eyes

A winning horse

A tidy Mexican divorce

Saint Mary’s prayers

Houdini’s hands

And a barman who always understands.

“Woe” is an Irish ballad in miniature, all of five lines long. “Calliope” is a homogenized 12-tone piece with drunk trumpets and whistles stuck inside a calliope. “A Good Man is Hard to Find” is not the old standard, but could as well be. It’s almost normal compared to the previous songs. The lines“Only strangers share my bed”, “My favorite words are good-bye”, and “I’ll always remember to forget about you” deserve songs of their own. Hell, maybe I’ll write them.

Look tomorrow for Alice, the next Waits album. The dark humor and sorrow continues.

ALBUM OF THE DAY-February 24- Tom Waits-Alice


This record came out the same day as Waits’ Blood Money in 2002. The beautiful darkness continues, with these lines from the title track:

How does the ocean rock the boat?

How did this razor find my throat?


And so a secret kiss
Brings madness with the bliss
And I will think of this
When I’m dead in my grave.


These songs are Waits’ versions of songs he wrote for Robert Wilson’s play Alice, which was loosely based on Alice in Wonderland. I saw it at BAM many years ago, but there was so much to it that it would take me many repeated showings to feel like I got it. I’ve understood these versions since they came out, and it’s some of his best writing. The song “Alice” could be a great jazz ballad for Chet Baker if he could rise up from the grave. “Everything You Can Think” begins with a lonesome train whistle (is there any other kind?) with a crooked set of horns that lead to Waits’ skeleton growl. He adds the unearthly sounds of both a Mellotron and Chamberlain to the one-two-three rhythm. This is not something most people would want to wake up to.

“Who will put flowers on a flower’s grave? Who will say a prayer?” “If we are to die tonight, is there moonlight up ahead?” We’re back to sentiment-filled Waits with “Flower’s Grave”, and few people do it better. Who will take care of the caretakers? No one puts flowers on a flower’s grave. Waits hits me in places that few artists do; that combination of genetic memory and personal experience that trigger a wash of emotions and thoughts that I may or may have not experiencd. I hear it’s a Welsh thing, which I believe.

“No One Knows I’m Gone” continues the less-than-happy feeling, with only a bit of self-pity:


Hell above and heaven below

All the trees are gone

Rain has such a lovely sound

To those who are six feet under ground

The leaves will bury every year

And no one knows I’m gone.


You could write a whole album out of two lines in any Waits song. “Kommienezuspadt” is a rumbling number of decay, complete with Waits barking out lines in German and my friend Andrew Borger on smashed inanimate objects. “Poor Edward” is a sad waltz based on an apocryphal person, Edward Mordake. I’d really like to believe this is true, since Tom told us this in the second track of Alice.  “Table Top Joe” makes me miss Brooklyn. A piano-playing wunderkind was born without a body and takes the circus and The Sands by storm. That’s Stewart Copland on the old-timey trap kit.

Everyone and everything is “Lost in the Harbour,” and nothing works. Maybe they get out of denial in time for the narrator to come to the harbor and fill it up with his tears. “We’re All Mad Here” is the most direct reference to Alice in Wonderland that I could find here. It is a musical asylum, but I could traipse around these halls for a while with a recorder and a notebook. Then I’d have more songs to write. “Watch Her Disappear” is a mostly spoken vocal over pump organ and pizzicato strings. It’s madly poetic, with champagne laughs and a banjo tango. “Reeperbahn” describes a few bizarre characters from Hamburg’s red-light district. “The apple is gone, but there’s always the core.” Vince Guaraldi could have been in on the intro for “I’m Still Here”, a song that’s possibly about rekindled love. “How long was I dreaming for? What was it you wanted me for?”

“Fish and Bird” is one of my favorite Waits ballads. It’s a waltz with a few simp[le chords, so you know it’s going to be tearful. I don’t know why that is; waltzes and lullabies have their sorrow-less sadness with me. The song is ostensibly about a bird that falls in love with a whale.


They bought a round for the sailor
And they heard his tale
Of a world that was so far away
And a song that we’d never heard
A song of a little bird
That fell in love with a whale.

He said, ‘You cannot live in the ocean’
And she said to him
‘You never can live in the sky’
But the ocean is filled with tears
And the sea turns into a mirror
There’s a whale in the moon when it’s clear
And a bird on the tide.

Please don’t cry
Let me dry your eyes,

So tell me that you will wait for me
Hold me in your arms
I promise we never will part
I’ll never sail back to the time
But I’ll always pretend you’re mine
Though I know that we both must part
You can live in my heart.


You take it for what you think it is; I think the best songs can mean many things to many people. To me, it’s about two creatures who love each other but cannot be with each other, and I can understand the literal lyrics as well as a human version. Gets me every time.

A Barcarolle is a gentle song in 6/8 originally sung by Venetian gondoliers. Waits’ “Barcarolle” has some waterway references, but aside from a semi-tonal saxophone interlude, is a love song that hopes everything will all be good someday. “Fawn” is an instrumental featuring violinist Carla Kihlstedt in a beautiful theremin-like performance. It’s a lovely coda to the album.

Waits said that he liked beautiful melodies telling him terrible things.

So do I.



Music of the Day 2018

JANUARY 1, 2018 Glenn Gould

I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, but I’m going to steal and pay homage to my good friend Christopher Watkins, AKA Preacher Boy, and write about an album or song every day for a year. Check out Preach’s list on FB if you can. I’ll be going through my musical memories and picking out both music I think is important and special to me. My tastes are pretty eclectic. This is as much for my own musical education as it is for throwing my musical opinions on social media. I hope some of you will like and/or criticize my choices. There won’t be a lot of brand new music here, not just because I’m old, but because I’m exploring my musical DNA and pointing out music that has been peer-reviewed, so to say.

It’s always good to start with Bach. Here’s Glenn Gould with the first recording of The Goldberg Variations. He recorded this version in 1955 and another in 1981, but this is the recording I grew up with. I mean, if you hate Bach, there’s probably something wrong with you. I’ll be saying that a lot about a bunch of artists. Happy New Year!


Music of the Day, January 2 Hank Williams

I’m a day late in saying this, but Hank Williams died for your sins on New Year’s Day 1953. It took me years to get used to the voices of country music, as they always sounded like the folks who thought the South won the Civil War and who kept white sheets in the trunks of their cars. But once I understood Hank, I understood music a lot better. There are few people like The Hillbilly Shakespeare who hit you in so many ways- joy, devotion, and most of all, pain. Hank changed country music the way Babe Ruth changed baseball, and his singing and songwriting came from a very acute knowledge of pain, both emotionally and physically. I put him up with the greatest songwriters of all time, and he only made it to twenty-nine. Here’s a playlist that gives you a good sense of the man. My current favorite is “They’ll Never Take Her Love Away from Me.”

JANUARY 4 Radiohead-Kid A

Back in the day before the kids said a new release would “drop”, we had to call or go to record stores to get a new record or CD. David Berger played this for Sara Cameron, Tim Luntzel, and myself as we came back from a gig in Albany in 2000. It was entrancing, even though it often went over my head.  Radiohead is one of the best bands to emerge in the past fifty years, and even when I have no idea what Thom Yorke is singing about, the music is so sonically wondrous that he could be talking about dental hygiene and I’d still be drawn in.  “Everything in Its Right Place” kicks off the record, and the mood is set for the musical collage that follows. Only Yorke could sing (from “Optimistic”) “You try the best you can/the best you can is good enough” and have it sound like a dirge for an android. The bassline on “The National Anthem” is one of the greatest riffs of the last quarter century. The whole album needs to be experienced over and over. I hate Spotify because of the pitiful rates they pay musicians, but this is where you can listen to this album straight down online.



Album of the Day-January 3 –Herbie Nichols Trio

Herbie Nichols is one of those underrated and overlooked pianists from the 1940s-1960s. Compositionally, he’s quirkier than Thelonious Monk, whom he is most often compared to. But Nichols has his own thing going on. He didn’t record enough, but his tunes still sound fresh today. He’s not quite from another planet, but more like a side street you always walked by but never checked out.


Album of the Day- January 5- FISHBONE

One of the best bands ever. Their debut EP fueled my adolescence, and its brilliance hasn’t dimmed. They fused ska, rock, and funk and referenced nuclear Armageddon and the movie “Kentucky Fried Movie”, all with stellar musicianship and a sense of humor. It’s a party record with a conscience. Try not to dance and laugh to “Ugly” or “Lyin’ Ass Bitch”- the latter is one of the best fuck-you songs ever written. They even survived what I call the Wang Chung Effect, wherein a band that cites its own name in a song is doomed to a short shelf-life.  (Case in point- “Fishbone is here to stay”, from “Party at Ground Zero”). Fishbone IS here to stay.


Album of the Day- January 6- Alexander ScriabinThe Poem of Ecstasy, conducted by Pierre Boulez.

When I recommend a classical music piece, I don’t always cite a particular recording, because I listen more to the music than the interpretation. So I picked Pierre Boulez’s version of Scriabin’s Poem of Ecstasy because… it’s Boulez.

Scriabin (1872-1915) was a mystic Russian composer, although that’s not saying enough. This piece is exactly what the title says- it’s a quivering quarter hour of sensuality and eroticism in instrumental form. Scriabin had a form of synesthesia, where he saw and associated certain colors with different musical keys. I’ve always been fascinated by his harmonic sense, and I’ve tried to use it in my own compositions. Let this piece flow over you, and you will possibly feel some pinpricks.


Album of the Day, January 7: David BowieHunky Dory

Mister Jones died nearly two years ago, and I really think his death ripped some fabric in the universe, because the world really went further into the shit we’re in. I was always a Bowie fan, but I didn’t know his whole catalog very well. When Donny McCaslin and his band recorded Blackstar with him (see January 9), I started digging deeper into the Bowie well. Hunky Dory has a lot to offer: reinvention (“Changes”), sexual ambiguity (“Oh, You Pretty Things”) a minor masterpiece (“Life on Mars?”), and what I think is the best song about raising a kid- “Kooks”. Not like I’ll ever deal with early parenting, but if I did, I’d play this song every day. “Will you stay in our lovers’ story/If you stay you won’t be sorry/’Cause we believe in you/Soon you’ll grow, so take a chance/With a couple of Kooks/Hung up on romancing/… A book of rules/On what to say to people when they pick on you/
‘Cause if you stay with us you’re gonna be pretty kookie too….”

I can’t think of a better way to explain to an artistic and sensitive kid what it’s going to be like in a world of muggles. Thank you to Ken Webb for turning me on to the song for the Bowie tribute at the Living Room in 2009, and I’m sorry for forgetting my chart backstage and screwing up the chords. I know it now.



Music of the Day- January 8- Elvis PresleyHound Dog

When I was eight years old, the kids across the street (technically, their dad) took me in their truck to a feed store, or something along that line. My parents only listened to the news on the radio, so it was a new thing for me when the dad left the music station on for us when he went inside to get whatever he needed. This is when I heard the name Elvis Presley and the song Hound Dog for the first time. I was amazed. It made me feel something new. I knew my classical composers pretty well, but this was a revelation. I came home and told my mom that this guy named Elvis died and I needed to get his music. She had just found out her mother died, and was saddened even more that her son was more affected by a musician’s death than by his own grandmother’s death. So it goes.

So, I became devoted to Elvis’ music, dressed as him for Halloween, and got a bunch of his records, but this song will always hit me and bring me back to August 16th, 1977. Yes, Elvis ripped off a lot of great R&B artists; yes, the song was originally done by Big Mama Thornton; yes, it was written by two Jewish songwriters named Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, but there’s an energy in this recording that transcends everything. Scotty Moore’s guitar, the slapback echo on Elvis’ voice, the Jordanaires backing harmonies, the simple calypso/ bayou groove- they all combine to form one of the best two minutes and fifteen seconds in rock and roll history.

Album of the Day- January 9- David BowieBlackstar

I was excited when my musical big brother Donny McCaslin and his band went into the studio with one of music’s legends, and even happier when I heard the record. Then Bowie died and the fabric of the universe tore a little bit. I’m not saying that the rise of kakistocracy and white nationalism is because we don’t have Bowie anymore, but there sure has seemed like the hate factor went up fifty decibels.

I’m not aware of a better musical epitaph an artist has left as his or her final statement (although Hank’s “I’ll Never Get Out of This World Alive” is pretty heavy). Bowie sings of his own mortality here, and the music, while gloomy and jarring at times, is comforting in the end. He knew he was dying, but chose t0 explore it without fanfare or sentimentality. I’m still uncovering new things in the album. Of course, the band is incredible. Bowie chose wisely, and I’m beyond thrilled that Donny is getting the worldwide attention he’s been due for thirty years. Any time I hear his tenor saxophone it’s like I’m hearing his voice.

There are so many layers to this album, and I feel that it’s best experienced in full on a gray day like today, with the music washing over you. “I Can’t Give Everything Away” is a beautiful end-of-life statement, and Blackstar is already helping me deal with my own eventual demise, whenever that happens.


Album of the Day: January 10-Clifford Brown and Max RoachA Study in Brown

When I was fourteen and getting into jazz, my dad took me down to Logos (RIP) Books and Records and told me I needed to have some records by the best trumpet player ever. Brownie is still my favorite. This record has always stuck with me, from the ripping Cherokee to the melodic push of “Jacqui” and “Swingin’”, and the underrated Harold Land’s darkly fascinating “Land’s End”- the whole album is so classic yet more tuneful than most hard bop records of the 1950s. “Gerkin for Perkin”, “George’s Dilemma”, the now-standard blues “Sandu”, and the semi-standard “If I Love Again”- these tunes are in my musical DNA, and really should be in the souls of any dedicated jazz musician. I was fortunate enough to thank Max Roach for this band. Happy birthday to one of the greatest in most innovative drummers of all time.


Music of the Day- January 11- Buffalo Springfield

For what it’s worth, most people could sing The Springfield’s most famous song without necessarily knowing the title. It’s only one of the most powerful songs to come out of the 1960s. Yet there’s so much more. This is the band that launched Neil Young and Stephen Stills, ya know, the latter being one of the most soulful-sounding white dudes and the former being… well. NEIL YOUNG.

This band combined country and rock with a little touch of Stax thrown in, and all with some great songwriting and harmonies. “Go and Say Goodbye” and “Pay the Price” have these grooves that only seemed to happen in 1966; Bruce Palmer and Dewey Martin kicking it waiting for Gram Parsons to show up somewhere between Bakersfield and Laurel Canyon.  “Burned” is just a great rock-pop song. I’d recommend the retrospective box set (not pictured) to anyone who loves the year 1966 like I do. Thank you Jack Grace for really showing me the magic of The Springfield so many years ago at Café Steinhof.

And yes, flying on the ground is wrong.


Music of the Day- January 12-Keith JarrettConcerts (Bregenz)

I received this beautiful cassette as a gift when I was fourteen. There’s not enough space in the world for me to describe the subtle things that entered my unconscious musical mind from listening to this set of concerts over and over. Most people go to Jarrett’s earlier The Koln Concert for his improvised solo piano records, but this one was my first. With most of these concerts, Jarrett sat down at the piano with no pre-conceived notions and just PLAYED. Since this music came to me early in my jazz years, I took it for granted that a piano player would sit down and make up seventy minutes of music before an audience of thousands. It gave me a reason to experiment and eventually lead to composition.
Jarrett starts simply with a moving lyrical theme in Bb major, and build it slowly. This isn’t noodling on a few chords- it’s instant composition. Like Sonny Rollins, Jarrett knows how to build a solo as if it were a composition. He builds off his themes and lets them flow out of his fingers. What a touch and sound. There are  gospel elements combined with a bit of  internal contrapuntal  movement that reminds me of the Bach pieces that Busoni re-wrote. There is a type of melancholy here that I only find in Jarrett. In lesser hands it could get sentimental, but here you start with a bit of sadness that grows and gets happier and jubilant. Above all, its lyricism and rhythmic brilliance are distinctly American. Jarrett draws on many different influences, yet combines them into a cohesive whole that doesn’t value one style of music above another. Let it wash over you, perhaps on a long scenic drive.


Album of the Day- January 13- Donny Hathaway Live

                  There have been so many great “live” albums issued over the years that trying to say there’s one definitive one is pointless. But this is DONNY HATHAWAY, who is for me the greatest singer of all time. Donny could sing “Mein Kampf” and make me cry and rejoice. He’s the Dark Magus to Stevie Wonder’s glorious brilliance; the darker side that really feels the love more when it happens, because once you’ve experienced serious darkness, it makes the light brighter. I didn’t know Mr. Hathaway, but when he sings, I feel that he knows me.

This is the record that made me fall back in love with the Wurlitzer electric piano, which Donny grooves so hard with the opening track, a cover of Marvin Gaye’s then-new song “What’s Going On”. The song is a classic, of course, as is Marvin’s album of the same name, but for me, when Donny Hathaway sings a song- THAT is the definitive version. The groove is so deep on this whole record, with Willie Weeks and Fred White anchoring the rhythm section. “The Ghetto” is such a great Latin-soul groove that you forget that’s it’s a very sad song. “You’ve Got a Friend” slays me. And the crowd felt it too. Listen to those screams.  It’s a song that can get cheesy or sentimental in the wrong hands, but Donny knows what it’s like to not have a friend, so he WILL be there for you. Beautifully devastating. As for Lennon’s “Jealous Guy”- I knew this version before the original (I know-take away my white dude rock card) but Donny transforms it into his own tune, like he does with every song he touches. Side one was recorded at The Troubadour in L.A. and Side 2 at the legendary Bitter End, a stage I was fortunate enough to perform on many times. I felt the magic there that Mr. Hathaway left us.


Song of the Day- January 14– Lee DorseyWorkin’ in a Coal Mine

It’s Allen Toussaint’s birthday. This was a guy who often felt better behind the scenes, composing, arranging, and producing some of the greatest American music on record. You can make an argument that he WAS the king of New Orleans music in the past sixty years. This 1966 song was written and produced by Toussaint, with the great Lee Dorsey on vocals, along with the funkiest band of all time, who became The Meters. (More on them later). I dare anyone to listen to this song without singing along or dancing a little. Zigaboo Modeliste sets up such a buoyant groove that could only come from New Orleans. It’s also a great take on being a working man doing a rough job, but Dorsey and company make it sound fun.  Let’s not forget “Yes We Can”, one of the most uplifting and empowering songs there is.

I still have to go to New Orleans…..


Recording of the Day- January 15- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.- “I Have a Dream.”

I don’t think I need to explain to anyone why this is one of the most important speeches in history by one of the greatest leaders in history.


Album of the Day- January 16- Captain Beefheart and his Magic BandSafe As Milk

Now the good Captain isn’t everyone’s saucer of milk, and not for every listening hour, but damn, did he create something of originality. Part blues, part odd-time weirdo, part musical dictator- Don Van Vliet made some interesting music. I really like the tiki-torch groove of “Abba Zaba” and that I see as a black-and-white Flintstones cartoon with drumstick-wielding elephants. Hey- maybe that really did happen. I can’t be sure with music from 1966- it’s like a lot of studio sounds from that year ended up in my DNA from birth, so they remind me of things I experienced before I was born.

Anyway, that’s a 20-year-old Ry Cooder on guitar. Badass. I love his use of the slide and his chime-y Asian-slur textures. All the grooves are killer, but it was deemed uncommercial by the record bigwigs. The weird music usually takes a while to permeate the culture, if it ever does. “Zig Zag” has that same Sunset Strip 1966 sound that I associate with The Doors. It should be no surprise that The Captain and Frank Zappa were high school friends, as they share the same musical brilliance and eclecticism. After the reference tone announcement, “Yellow Brick Road” is pretty damn joyous. In fact, a lot of this record is joyous, if you let it sit in the corner and allow it to jump up and greet you once in a while. “Keep on walking and don’t look back.”




Album of the Day- January 17- Ugetsu: Art Blakey and The Jazz Messengers Live at Birdland

Adam Beach loaned me this record in 1985 and I immediately took to it, because, it’s BLAKEY. Blakey was one of the greatest drummers and leaders in jazz history, and this 1963 sextet was one of my favorite incarnations. “One By One” is a Wayne Shorter tune that epitomizes that hard-swinging Blakey shuffle. All of Wayne’s tunes here are proof that he’s one of the greatest jazz composers there has been. We’ve got Freddie Hubbard, Curtis Fuller, Reggie Workman- legends all- along with another heavy on piano, Cedar Walton, whose title track with its major 7th and dominant sus chords made me feel better about the world when I was sixteen. It still makes me feel better every time I listen.


Album of the Day-  January 18-Marcy Playground- Shapeshifter

Yeah, maybe this one is unethical, as these guys are friends and I was SUPPOSED to play on this (Thanks Woz) but they let me on the tours, so all is good. I’ve loved John Wozniak’s voice and music since Dylan Keefe played me the demos in his car in 1996. I said, “Hey this Sex and Candy song is pretty catchy.” It sold millions. Their first album is really good, but since my man Dan Rieser and Dylan are on this one, I’m taking this. The tunes are rocking and catchy as fuck. Woz combines childhood and fantasy novels with sex and drugs, and somehow, they all balance each other out. “It’s Saturday” is about being home sick; “Wave Motion Gun” is part spaceship and part heroin; “Our Generation” is really about we Gen-Xers who grew up with feelings and “Free to Be You and Me”; and “Secret Squirrel” has some serious guitar riffs and is easily the best song about a 1960s cartoon character. Happy birthday Woz! Needs keyboards.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- January 19- The Bulgarian Women’s Choir-Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares

This is one of those albums that changed my perception of music. Kurt Biederwolf played it for us in his Electronic Synthesis class, and I’d never heard anything like it before. They are arrangements of traditional Bulgarian songs, but the harmonies are anything but what Westerners would think of as traditional. If the opening trach “Pilentze Pee” doesn’t scare you a bit, you probably live in a dissonant space. “Kalimankou Denkou” brings me to tears at times. The soloist has one of the greatest voices I’ve ever heard. I’ve always thought Paula Cole had a bit of this woman in her. “Erghen Diado” is one of my favorite things ever recorded, and I’ll be damned if that joyous major section doesn’t remind me of 1970s Keith Jarrett. Odd meters are fun. This is a desert island disc for me, and maybe it can be yours as well.


Song of the Day-January 20-Adriano Celentano-Prisencolinensinainciusol

OK, so this is really one of my favorite things ever created. It’s an Italian idea of what English sounds like to non-English speakers. The only real words are “all right”. Celentano’s phrasing kills me, and you can’t beat that bouncy beat. I heard it (the remix, actually) in season 3 of Fargo, which I highly recommend. I also try to run my university classrooms EXACTLY LIKE THIS.


Album of the Day-January 21- Esquivel! Space-Age Bachelor Pad Music

It was in 1995 or so that I heard Irwin Chusid play Esquivel on the radio in New York. At first, I wasn’t sure if I liked it. I almost hated it. This was not something that the cool jazz cats, singer-songwriters, or even Knitting Factory musicians I hung out with listened to. Yet slowly, I got into him. This music made me co-found our band Cocktail Angst, which was a part of a lot of cool things in the 1990s. Nobody understood us either.

Back to Esquivel: Imagine the early 1960s movies where the guy presses a button and a king size bed, bar, and hi-fi suddenly appear, and this would be the music. It’s something to be experienced in stereo, as the recording and panning are pretty incredible. Esquivel’s unique arranging style isn’t for everyone, and some will hear it as plain kitsch, but the ensembles are tight.. Plus, who can resist Alvino Rey’s steel guitar and all those “Zu-Zu-Zu” vocal lines? Exotica in space!


Album of the Day- January 22-Sam CookeLive at the Harlem Square Club

Sam Cooke would have been eighty-seven today. If you don’t like Sam Cooke who are probably:

1) soul-less;  2) dead;  3) an asshole.

Actually, I take back #2. The dead love Sam Cooke. I’d like to thank Milton for introducing me to this record on a road trip in 2008. While this live set doesn’t have the powerful and important Sam tune “A Change is Gonna Come”, his voice and phrasing are unbelievable. You get to hear him speak to the audience, and hear his tunes with a small and raw band that kicks ass. Sam does more than crooning here. Man, I would have loved to see him live. This might be the closest we can get.


Album of the Day- January 23– Django ReinhardtThe Collections[]=mediatype%3A%22audio%22

This isn’t an album; it’s a link to the free Django collections on the amazing

Download them all now. Listen to them. Embed them in your subconscious. Django was the master. He was the first non-American jazz innovator, did it with only three fingers on one hand, and swung his ass off. I don’t know if there is such a thing as bad Django; it’s kind of like saying there is bad Duke Ellington or half-assed Bach. There is nothing like the Gypsy Jazz of Django and Stephane Grappelli. You’ll feel better for knowing it. Yes, I said GYPSY. That’s what they called it.


Album of the Day- January 24-Gary BurtonDuster

Some people call this the first jazz-rock fusion record, and I wouldn’t argue with them. The term fusion here isn’t so much about combining jazz and rock as it is about being a jazz group LIKING the pop sounds of 1967. It just sounds slightly different than other records that came before it, although in a subtle way.

Gary Burton had already revolutionized the vibraphone and was only twenty-five when this was recorded. Larry Coryell was an up-and-coming guitarist who loved Wes Montgomery AND Jimi Hendrix, Steve Swallow hadn’t converted to the electric bass yet and had played with Paul Bley and others, and on drums… ROY HAYNES. Roy is one of my favorite musicians ever, and he’s still kicking ass as of this writing.

My personal highlights: “Ballet” is a blues that Eric Dolphy would have felt at home with; “Sweet Rain” glides over you; “General Mojo’s Well-Laid Plan” is a Swallow song with one of the catchier melodies on the record, and lets Coryell show off some country picking (not a common addition to jazz of the time); “Sing Me Softly of the Blues” is more like an altered gospel-country-blues that lies semi-peacefully at your feet, ready to snarl at you; and “Liturgy” is a bouncy tune that Haynes really carries.
The important thing about this record to me is that it allowed a guitarist to be a GUITARIST. Many of the tunes are in sharp keys, which are generally the province of stringed instruments. But in jazz, the horn players preferred the flat keys, so often the guitar wasn’t allowed to be as idiomatic as we think of it today. Coryell is playing some straight-up electric blues and rock guitar. The playing is superb. I’d like to recommend Marc Myers’ book “Why Jazz Happened” for introducing me to this record. Buy it!

ALBUM OF THE DAY- January 24- Washington Phillips

This music could save your life. Washington Phillips’s music is not of this earth, but wherever he’s from is a weird old world you want to go to. Phillips was an itinerant preacher from Texas, and when he was forty-seven he went into a studio in Dallas to record these unreal gospel songs. They will make you a believer.

Phillips is a pretty mysterious figure, and I’m fairly sure he wasn’t all there upstairs. But his phrasing and sheer belief in the words he sang make for some of the most subtly powerful recordings in history. Nobody seems in agreement as to what instrument he played here, but it could have been a zither-like instrument he made himself. Its sound is somewhere between an overgrown music box and a demented fairground. Yet Phillips’ voice is soothing and tender, even when he’s talking about sin and some Old Testament fire. “Denomination Blues” should be heard by everyone, whether you have Jesus or not. “Mother’s Last Word to Her Son” is instant tears. “Lift Him Up” could lift you up if you let it.

“What are they doing in heaven today? I don’t know boy, but it’s my business to stay here and sing about it.”

Thank you for singing about it, Mr. Phillips.



In fifth grade, Todd Nelson invited me over to his house and played me records by two rock bands I hadn’t known before.  The first was AC/DC. Classic. But the second band really stunned me. I had never heard anything like it, and I can only imagine how this record sounded to the adult public when it came out.  It still amazes me, and the opening track “Runnin’ With the Devil” states to the world that some new badass shit is here and it’s not fucking around.

I’ll say it again: David Lee Roth is the best rock and roll front man of all time and Eddie Van Halen is the best rock guitarist of all time.

Bite me.

“Runnin’ With the Devil” enters with a killer guitar riff. Eddie is really good at these kinds of things.  DLR’s vocal track

is a great example of showmanship, energy, and vocal prowess. The beautiful thing about DLR and Van Halen is that they are shredding and rocking while winking at you. The playing is serious, but they don’t take themselves too seriously. But the next track, “Eruption” changed rock guitar playing forever. It’s just plain AWESOME. There is no other word for what Eddie Van Halen does. “You Really Got Me” was already the first and possibly most important guitar riff when The Kinks recorded it in 1964, but these guys take it up several notches. Then there’s “Ain’t Talking ‘Bout Love”, which is another sweet guitar line from Eddie. Michael Anthony and Alex Van Halen are still underrated as a rhythm section, because Eddie and DLR get most of the attention, but they are rock solid, and their backing vocals are some of the best in rock history. “I’m The One” will get your motor running, as will “Atomic Punk” and “On Fire”. “Little Dreamer” is the closest thing to a ballad that VH ever did and is lovely in its own way, while “Jamie’s Crying’” is medium tempo rock magic. “Ice Cream Man” shows that these guys can play the blues in their own way. The thing that separated Eddie from so many guitarists who followed him in hard rock bands was his knowledge of the blues. If you can’t play the blues, you can’t play shit, as the saying goes that I just made up.  Quite possibly my favorite VH tune is “Feel Your Love Tonight”, where Eddie’s riff and DLR’s light-hearted lyric of fucking in a car combine for one fun and rocking tune.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- January 27-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart- Symphonies 40 and 41.

As with a lot of classical pieces I’ll put up here, I’m more about the composition than the performance. Some people get all caught up in which conductor or orchestra is better or truer to the composer’s intent, but the truth is that they all play very well.

This is Mozart, one of the most brilliant musical geniuses to ever walk the earth, and these symphonies are some of the best ever written. The 40th in particular is considered to be the most “perfect” symphony, for what that’s worth. The classical era didn’t favor minor keys, so the G minor key of the 40th is more brooding and angst-tinged than a lot of Mozart’s work. He wrote these two symphonies along with his 39th in the summer of 1788, which was quite a prolific period, even by Mozart standards.

If you don’t know the story of Mozart, you probably should. The play and movie “Amadeus” is a really good film about him, but there is so much more to the man. His music is in my DNA, and I believe that Mozart had a direct channel to the universe that few musicians have had.


MUSIC OF THE DAY- January 28- The Kinks Greatest Hits

I wouldn’t normally recommend greatest hits albums, especially with a band as amazing as The Kinks, but this covers some of the best Brit Pop ever. For me, Ray Davies as a songwriter is quite possibly the equal to Lennon and McCartney. The Beatles had the advantage of better voices and production, but Ray’s songs of this era (1964-1966) have more emotional and topical range than just about anything else coming out of Britain.

That said, this collection has the classic Dave Davies guitar riffs that transformed rock and roll and can be seen as the precursors to punk. It’s like Chuck Berry became a working-class English boy and cranked up the amp. “You Really Got Me” and “All Day and All of the Night” are rock hero classics, and they lyrically veer away from the simple gooey love songs that dominated pop music of the day. You can tell Ray Davies was channeling some British angry young man stuff, and tells the woman how much he wants her, and there isn’t much subtlety to it.

“Tired of Waiting for You” is a sentiment just about everyone can relate to at some point in his/her life. No matter how attractive someone is, someone somewhere is sick of their shit. Harmonically it’s more sophisticated than most rock and roll tunes and has three distinct sections that somehow all flow together. NOBODY was writing songs like “Well Respected Man” and “A Dedicated Follower of Fashion”. While everyone was celebrating youth and rock and roll. Ray was examining stifling conformity in the former, and the idiocy of chasing trends in the latter. Ray wasn’t chasing trends; trends chased him, although it took decades for a lot of people to understand the depth of his music. There will be more Kinks to Kome.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- January 29-John Coltrane- My Favorite Things

I bought this record at Logos (R.I. P.) when I was fourteen, and it opened up new musical possibilities in my brain. I played it on the family stereo and my dad remarked, “He’s just playing scales!” (Dad came around to Trane later in life). It’s a classic, and always sounds fresh to my ears. The title track is far from Julie Andrews land, and is one of the prime examples of modal jazz. McCoy Tyner is one of my favorite jazz pianists, and he shows his originality here with his use of block chords. It’s Steve Davis on bass and the master Elvin Jones on drums, who almost sounds restrained here compared to Trane albums a couple of years later. It’s John Coltrane on tenor and soprano saxophone, and it’s the first studio recording of him playing soprano, which was a rare thing in jazz outside of Sidney Bechet and Steve Lacy.

John Coltrane was at once the Beethoven, Wagner, and Schoenberg of the saxophone. A tenor titan, if you will. He’s also the closest thing to experiencing the spiritual element of the universe, although he’s just starting to channel that here. “Every Time We Say Goodbye” is one of my favorite Cole Porter tunes, and this is one of the best renditions of it for me. It’s such a beautiful ballad and has a great lyric. “Summertime” by Gershwin, gets the full Trane intensity, which takes it away from the conventional ballad setting and puts it into jazz shredding territory. “But Not for Me” is another Gershwin standard, which gets the Coltrane chordal treatment (see “26-2”, “Giant Steps”) and transforms the song from a ballad to a medium up swing. It’s an important and influential record.


ALBUM OF THE DAY- January 30-Never Mind the Bollocks: Here’s the Sex Pistols

There are some bands and albums that plain scare you. Punk rock and its ethos really frightened me as a kid (short spiky hair? Isn’t that close to a crew cut? Why are they so angry? Why do their fans spit on them to show appreciation? Bobby pins in their noses?) but it took me a while to embrace the style and NEED for this music. Some would chart the beginnings of punk to MC5 or any number of garage bands- I’d put The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me” as one of the prototypes- but outside of The Ramones (more on them later) The Sex Pistols embodied punk rock. Angry and disillusioned with authority and society, Johnny Rotten and company came at you with great guitar riffs and Rotten’s snide and taunting lyrics. (For a deeper insight into punk and the art forms that precipitated it, I highly recommend “Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the 20th Century” by Greil Marcus.

The American version of this groundbreaking record starts with the sound of marching boots, that to me sound like Nazi storm troopers. (For years I thought punk was akin to Nazism, but the real stuff is anything but totalitarian). The marching leads to one of the greatest rock guitar riffs, “Holidays in the Sun”. The sound is heavy, but we’re no longer in American corporate rock or the Tolkien-infused British rock. Johnny Rotten is against just about everything that has gone before The Sex Pistols, except Chuck Berry. His sarcastic sneer is everywhere in the songs, giving a dark comic relief to a world that feels increasingly futile.

Here are the initial lyrics, written during the Cold War, when there was a divide between East and West Germany:

Cheap holiday in other peoples’ misery
I don’t wanna holiday in the sun
I wanna go to the new Belsen
I wanna see some history
Cause now I got a reasonable economy

Now I got a reason
Now I got a reason
Now I got a reason and I’m still waiting
Now I got a reason
Now I got reason to be waiting
The Berlin wall


He’s pissed off, sarcastic, and funny all at once. That is, if you can call any reference to a concentration camp funny. Rotten was comparing late 1970s London to being stuck in a military camp. But all of his leers wouldn’t be the same without the killer rock behind him. The group was banned all over Britain, which only contributed to their popularity. Today, the album doesn’t sound as scary as it did when it came out over forty years ago, but it still sounds fresh. “God Save the Queen” is a total fuck-you to the monarchy and by proxy to all forms of government. NO FUTURE. “I am an anti-Christ/I am an anarchiste” Rotten sings in “Anarchy in the U.K.” It was a call to arms for people who hated and didn’t believe in the military.

Even if you don’t like punk rock or its peace-less protests, the power and importance of this record makes it a landmark album in rock history. Without the power of The Sex Pistols, we’d all be pretty vacant.

ALBUM OF THE DAY- January 31- Franz SchubertDie Winterreise-Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Baritone; Gerald Moore, Piano

 We can talk all we want about great songwriters, but song as we know it now owes so much to the master of lieder, Franz Schubert. Before Schubert, the accompaniment to a vocal piece was merely supportive; never getting in the way. What Schubert did starting with Goethe’s ballad Erlkonig was to make the accompaniment equal to the vocal line. One element of his genius lies in his ability to not make the voice and piano fight for attention, but to bring them together into one powerful whole. Erlkonig is Teutonic Metal, years before Yngvie Malmsteen and all things shredding. Schubert was seventeen when he wrote it, and he wrote over six hundred more songs in the next fourteen years. In pure regard to understanding a lyric and mirroring it with the accompaniment, Schubert is the man of songwriting. Dylan can suck it.

But Erlkonig is not in Der Winterriese. Twenty-four other songs are, and Schubert wrote them in 1828, the last year of his life. He set these twenty-four poems by Wilhelm Mueller and corrected them on his death bed. They tell the story of a young man who is rejected by his beloved for another, richer man, and is turned away from her family. He is then forced to walk by himself through a bleak, snowy landscape and remember things he did with her in the spring. It’s a story that’s been told over and over, but not so deeply as Schubert did here. The poems range from somber-I’m using the English translations here- “Good Night”, joyous remembrances of love in spring “The Linden Tree” and “Dreams of Spring”, paranoia “The Crow”, and one of my favorite songs in any style, “The Sun Dogs.” “The Sun Dogs”, or as I knew it from a 19th century translation, “The Mock Suns”, is the penultimate song of the cycle. The unnamed narrator sees three suns in the sky, and denounces them as the symbols of faith, hope, and charity. “These three suns are none of mine/now go on other folks to shine/Once I called three suns my own/ but two, the best ones, now are gone”- this is a guy who has given up on the world. Or has he? Has he come to full consciousness? But the last song “The Organ Grinder” ends on an eerie tone. Schubert employs a drone, emulating the sound of a hurdy-gurdy. The narrator is at his end and asks the organ grinder if he can go with him, wherever that may be. You can find a English translation of the poems here.

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau is considered one of the greatest interpreters of Schubert lieder. You can hear the emotion in every word he sings. When I discovered this cycle, I became mildly obsessed by it. It’s hard NOT to be obsessed by it if you are a sensitive young man who likes brooding music with serious melody, harmony, and lyrics. When I remarked to my friend Don Falzone that I’d been listening to nothing but Schubert and Radiohead (the two are more similar than you’d think) he responded “Shoehead!” Thus, a band was born, and we recorded tracks in my home studio on 12th street in Brooklyn. I’d love to thank Reid Anderson, Dave Phelps, Dan Rieser, Donny McCaslin, Dan Rieser, Shannon Post, Tom Beckham, and Eric Rasmussen for contributing to the tracks and the few live shows we did, and of course to the late Jill Seifers and Tim Luntzel. One of the best bands you never heard. If anybody is up for doing a Schubertiad, I’m down.


“You have to be haunted by this cycle to be able to sing it.” -Elena Gerhardt






We really don’t see the point of NASCAR.


We don’t understand how you manage to elect inept and uninformed politicians. (Not like our are much better)


In general, we are better educated, have a higher standard of living, have fewer children out of wedlock, and have fewer citizens on welfare. 


We don’t want your guns, as we have our own. But we aren’t always happy about what you shoot at. 


Ohio and Florida are practically the same state. 


Not like we’re perfect, but you could treat your women and minorities better.


Jesus preached love, kindness, and tolerance. For Yankees too. 


And Jesus was a Jew. 


Those white sheets make YOU look inferior. 


General Sherman was an underachiever. 


You guys broke away from us in the Civil War. We wanted to keep us together. By the way, that was one hundred fifty years ago. 


Lincoln was a great president. John Wilkes Booth was a demented assassin. 


Some of the Old Testament seems fairly ludicrous in the day and age.  Can you take Leviticus seriously?


We have country people too. 


We will usually favor Willie over whatever twang with a hat Nashville is throwing at us.


And we tend to like the old country music. 


Not all people are equal, but everyone should be treated equally. 


Everyone’s a little bit redneck.


We love your cuisine, but not the bulging waistlines and clogged arteries we get from it. 


Incest is not a family right or privilege. It’s just plain wrong. 


Some of your accents make you sound dignified and refined. Other accents make you sound like an undeveloped troglodyte. 


Yes, we love football too.


You have produced some of the greater people, ideas, and things in the history of the world. Please don’t let your negative history overshadow them. 


We trust government a little more than you do, but not by much.


It is impolite to beat your wives, children , and animals. 


We secretly adore your drive-thru liquor stores. Your drive-thru gun shops; not so much. 


Larry the Cable isn’t very funny.


And why is the Duck Dynasty family and Honey Boo Boo even on the air?


Mexicans are our friends, and they probably work harder than you do. 


Homophobia is a choice. Homosexuality is not. Do you think gays really want to be bullied and chastised?


Bacon has no equal.


The Confederate flag may be a source of pride for you, but to us it is a symbol of racism, ignorance, and intolerance. 


The people in the Northeast can be rude because it gets pretty darn cold and hot there.


That said, your summers can be brutal.


Not all of us like really sweet tea.


The apprentice class that came to the South four hundred years ago is exactly in the same socio-economic standing today. No other immigrant group in America can claim such a lack of upward mobility. 


Why wear a cowboy hat if you don’t have any cattle?


Republicans don’t always stand up for the little guy. Not like Democrats are much better. 


No one loves the welfare state, but not every citizen has the same abilities and advantages in life. And you have more of those people. 


Jews are not inherently evil. And they don’t have horns and eat Christian babies. 


Canada may be America’s hat, but Mexico is not America’s colon. 


We won the war, and we’ll win again if you want to have another go at it.


The Northeast and the Midwest have produced more serial killers than the South. o you’ve got that going for you.


California really is nice, thus, the people are nice. Even if all that sun and weed tweaks their brains. 


Thomas Jefferson freed his slaves before he died. And slavery is still illegal in America.


Meth is bad. We’ve got it here too, but we don’t call it hillbilly heroin. 


Being a patriot makes you a good citizen . Being a violent xenophobe while cloaked in the flag doesn’t make you a good citizen. 


One man’s grits is another man’s polenta. 


God loves everybody. At least that’s what she tells us. 


The Washington Senators

Hey Chip!


You ever see the Washington Senators?

No, me either.

They died before we were born

only to be resurrected

and become two other teams

and then they came back as their mediocre self

only to crumble into another franchise.

Big Train pitched for them, Chip.

I wished we coulda seen him.

He pitched for years

before he ever made it to the World Serious

i mean Series


Walter Johnson probably broke a lot of barn doors

with that fastball.

I dunno, Chip

I dunno, Chip,

The beauty of it all

Baseball, I mean.

I just watched a shortstop make an unreal play

Like a ballerina

Without the make-up.

I wish they played it

Three-hundred-sixty games a year

I guess I could go to Santo Domingo

To watch winter ball

They play their asses off down there

But maybe the magic would dissipate

And I would have to become a sports writer

To be able to see baseball on boxing day.