Update. I will be taking some time off from posting – just for a week or two, depending on how relaxed I’m allowed to get – and when I return, my schedule is going to dramatically change. What this means is: I’m not sure what the future holds here at (B)HA(B)F, but you can bet it will be full of unsolicited commentary, timely or not…
Before I go, I wanted to leave you with some good stuff to ponder, but I couldn’t think of anything. So here’s some other stuff to check out:
The Cool Hunter turned me on to the new RV scene. Forget the Winnebago, check out this thing. Remember, it’s not just a hobby – it’s a lifestyle. If I could only afford the gas…
If you need another reason to laugh at Britney Spears, here is a video of a typical Brit performance. Note: the only audio you will hear is coming directly from her microphone. Consider yourself warned. Thanks to Ladies Love Matt E for the link.
I guess Taipei is the new Tokyo, at least that’s what I gather from reading Transmissions from Wintermute. They do some entertaining blogging from Taiwan. Awhile back, they posted about an all girl band called GoChic!. I had to copy and paste their bio:
Biology: this is go chic (caution!! we're electro-hyphy-chiks hybridized punk-blues-rock psycho-fatherfuckeeeeeers, jump yr feeeets uppppp!!! or we'r gonna ATTACK u!)
I wish jazz bios were more like this.
And now for some bloggy ranting. I find it so cleansing. This time, the target is one of my favorites – to bash. He is a musician so overrated I feel compelled to call attention to any wrongdoing I can. Yes, his career has been long and he has won countless accolades from folks with dubious taste… Sorry, I don’t mean to be off-putting, but I’m talking about Eric Clapton. I really can’t stand his music. I don’t personally know the man, but apparently he’s racist, or was back in the seventies.
I can’t begin to cover whole story, though it’s very interesting. By all means, check out the full narrative. My purpose here to simply pile on the man responsible for so much adult contemporary garbage. And I’ve found a good one.
Here is a direct quote from a 1976 concert where we find Mr. Clapton expressing support for Enoch Powell, who was running for Prime Minister at the time:
“ I think we should send them all back. Stop Britain from becoming a black colony. Get the foreigners out. Get the wogs out. Get the coons out. Keep Britain white. I used to be into dope, now I'm into racism. It's much heavier, man. Fucking wogs, man. Fucking Saudis taking over London. Bastard wogs. Vote for Enoch, he's our man, he's on our side, he'll look after us. I want all of you here to vote for Enoch, support him, he's on our side. Enoch for Prime Minister! Throw the wogs out! Keep Britain white!"
I bet that was a fun concert, huh?
Speaking of politics - which I try not to do much of on this blog. But I can’t help it, I’ve been keeping up on things with Darcy James Argue – have you seen the footage from outside the Republican National Convention? Check out this, this and this. Two words: Police State. One more reason why they’re already calling this the “Post-AmericanEra.”
Now that I’ve got that out of my system, I can’t leave you with all this negativity, can I? That’s not how I want to be remembered over the break. So in the interest of goodwill and fellowship, I’m ending this post with a video certain to bring a smile to even the most heartless of bastards. It’s dedicated to the Republican Party. Enjoy…
It seems that in the ongoing quest for individuality, some have discovered that records are a cool way to say “Look at me, I’m unique!” While I agree that records are cool, this dependence on stuff for distinctiveness is not. If you’ve read some recent posts, you’d know that this kind of thinking really bothers me. Consumerism should not be a requisite of the counterculture (or any culture).Weren’t we supposed to be getting away from all of this? Haven’t we already agreed that rampant capitalistic behavior, if unchecked, is not healthy? Like, in a planetary sense?
Besides, it’s just so corny. All these quotes are straight from the article:
…As soon as she opened her door his instincts were confirmed: she had a turntable. So did he. They both spoke the language of vinyl… There was this immediate mutual acknowledgment, like “we both totally understood what we define ourselves by…” (Honestly, if you heard someone talking like this, would you be able to keep a straight face?)
Remember, its all about money. Do not think for a second that this “resurgence” is some precious underground movement…
“Even if the industry doesn’t do all that well going forward, we could really carve this out to be a nice profitable niche,” said Bill Gagnon, a senior vice president at EMI Catalog Marketing, who is in charge of vinyl releases. He said that people who buy vinyl nowadays are charmed by the format’s earthy authenticity. “It’s almost a back-to-nature approach,” Mr. Gagnon said. “It’s the difference between growing your own vegetables and purchasing them frozen in the supermarket.” (Whaaa?)
If you’re looking for a conspicuous way to advertiseyourconnoisseurstatus, I guess vinyl is the newPabst. Just like the guy says:
When I can have all the music in the world in the palm of my hand, what does it say about me that I spend $15 to $20 for this format that is a pain to store and move and is easily damaged?
Let me take a stab at this. What it says, to me at least, is that we are on the eve of the apocalypse and your place in heaven will entirely depend on how you spent all your monopoly money.
Here’s a much more productive use of your time. This link will take you to a nice blog where you can learn how to:
I’m not going to get all preachy (too late?) and sum up this post with a plea for common sense or self reliance. Do what you want, by all means. But if you happen to appear innewspaper articles talking about how you attribute your identity to a fucking consumer product, you can expect at least a little bit of backlash. Peace.
Here at (B)HA(B)F, we get tired of simply blogging. Sometimes we even start to feel like we’re a legitimate publication(?!) with a responsibility to provide original content for our loyal readers. It’s a rare feeling, but nonetheless…
On that note, we would like to welcome you to a brand new series tentatively titled:InterviewsWith ExtremelyInteresting and Talented People.
Since this is primarily a blog about music, most interviews will be with… yep, musicians.However, we reservethe right to interview anyone we think is particularly interesting. Maybe even you*.
Extremely Interesting and Talented Person #1: FRANK DUFAY
Who? You mean you don’t know Frank Dufay? Sadly, you are not alone - which is one reason why we started this series. It could also be titled: Great Artists That You’ve Probably Never Heard Of. However, that would go against the optimism that we’re currently channeling. As long as there are people with taste, there will be an audience for artists with something to share… like Frank.
Frank Dufay is best known for being the one man band – known simply as FRANK - that outdoes all other one man bands. Incorporating a full drum kit, keyboards, effects and vocals, a FRANK performance is something to see. His compositions - which are played live with no sampling or pre-recorded tracks – go beyond the spectacle of his unique talent and attest to some serious songwriting chops.
Of course, it is the guy-who-plays-everything hook that tends to garner the most press. But even a brief exploration into his work will reveal much more than an ambidextrous wunderkind. The beauty of FRANK lies in his ability to fuse some pretty heady musical ideas with clever and accessible pop music.
FRANK was gracious enough wax poetic on topicsthat the readers of (B)HA(B)F want to know about. We sent him some open ended questions, hoping he would run with them. Luckily, he did.
(B)HA(B)F: As a one man project, you have a unique perspective on the process of musical creation. I’m not referring to songwriting so much as actually putting a group together. As someone who has performedwith a group and is now doing it all themselves, explain what led you to eschew the traditional “rock band” approach.
FRANK: I'm a one-person band 'cause I wasn't able to find the right partners - conflicts of commitment, skill, temperament or musical preferences. Finding good co-musicians is like finding a good girlfriend, it's hard and rare. After a couple years of Craigslist, hooking up with friends, starting bands 'cause it was better that nothing . . . I just got tired of waiting to get going. I finally got selfish and driven and desperate enough to try and do it myself.
(B)HA(B)F: Were there unexpected benefits and/or obstacles in going completely solo?
The benefits are easy - commitment, musical compatibility, skills - that was all me . . . I don't get mad at myself for not showing up to practice. But the disadvantage is that there's no one else to bounce off of, to give feedback and stuff. I miss the cooperative nature of writing in a band - though it's only worth it if it's with the right people, which was the problem in the first place.
(B)HA(B)F: Part of your uniqueness comes from the fact that you purposely do not use any sampled or recorded parts when performing.Although this has become commonplace for many, you have always held this “no sampling” as a standard. Is this something that will always be part of FRANK? Could there be a time when you incorporate the technology - to explore different ideas?
FRANK: My band, FRANK, will probably always be live, but that doesn't mean that I, Frank Dufay, won't do other projects. I love jamming and playing and doing new things with different people and always try to branch out. But, FRANK is around to better my writing and playing and maybe make a living. It'll be live - the goal is to make it good.
(B)HA(B)F: Recently on his blog, David Byrne railed against the tendency for contemporary composers to make music that is purposely difficult, that alienates as much as it entertains. As someone who has studiedcomposition but who also has their feet firmly planted in popular music, how do you see the relationship between artist and listener as it stands today?
FRANK: All music is difficult for someone. I think the real difficulty lies in making difficult music fun. Hard music has it's place in the world. It challenges and pushes boundaries. That doesn't mean I like all of it, but like is a relative word. In my earlier years, I would dismiss music I felt was technically inferior. What I came to realize is it's the creativity that I value. I can freely dislike or like simple and difficult music for the same and different reasons - it's about context and sincerity.
There are tons of bands and artists who distinguish themselves through class, be it the snooty composer that refuses to have a beat, or the snooty rocker that refuses to play in 5/4 time. It's all a lack of creativity and effort in my opinion - which is fine, it's just not my thing. As for the relationship between artist and listener, music doesn't have to be liked to be good, and just because music is liked doesn't make it good. It's all relative.
(B)HA(B)F: How has [the artist/audience relationship] changed since you started playing and where do you see it headed?
FRANK: I don't think it has changed - that's part of the problem. I have seen many, many shows that are serious or arty or whatever that are just boring . . . masturbating is fun, but that doesn't mean I want to watch someone else masturbate. A lot of difficult music I've heard is stuff I'd enjoy writing or playing, preferably inebriated, but wouldn't necessarily want to present to the world, or pay money or time to hear.
(B)HA(B)F: An LA Times music writer wrote “There are no more genres… it’s all just music now . . .” Your influences span the musical spectrum, where do you see yourself fitting in the modern musical landscape? Are there other composers/performers out there whom you identify with?
FRANK: I'd love to compare myself to Igor Stravinsky, Brian Eno, Sly Stone, Frank Zappa, the Beatles - or tons of other music - but I'm not really making the kind of music they made. I've asked lots of people to describe my music, and haven't gotten any consistent answers - makes it hard when someone asks me what my music sounds like.
I've never been very good with genres - I usually don't know what they mean. I tend to ask the instrumentation and the time period to get a sense of what the music might sound like. I'd rather just hear the music, which is pretty easy now thanks to the web.
Basically, I don't really know how to place my music in the landscape.
(B)HA(B)F:Not too long ago you moved from Portland, OR to the Bay Area. Both places are currently known as creative hot spots. From your perspective, how are these respective scenes similar or different?Are the environments as vibrant and supportive as they are made out to be? Is there anything that you'd like to see change?
FRANK: For music . . .The Bay sucks. Portland is less sucky. That's my flippant response, but I'll go into more detail . . . First off, the people here are great - nice, sincere, open, caring. Everyone I've met has been very kind and inviting, and I really appreciate that - really. But for the music scene . . .
I haven't found a lot of good music in the Bay - not that it's not there, I just can't find it. In Portland, both Willamette Week and the Mercury have lots of paragraph-long descriptions of bands playing each night of the week, and they're mostly local bands. Here in the Bay, there're as many reviews a week as there are a day in Portland, and they're mostly national or international groups. The Bay papers will list all the bands, but It's up to me to Google the names to know if it's something I'd be interested in. A little frustrating when you're trying to find some good music to see tomorrow night.
There just aren't enough clubs, and there's no easy way to find local bands. I attribute some of this to the high cost of living, and most of the rest to the little information available for people who want to hear music. Of course, I've been here less than a year, whereas I spent my whole life in Portland, so I need more time for a better perspective.
(B)HA(B)F: Hypotheticalquestion: You are on a desert island and you are allowed only five records. What would they be?
FRANK: Well, that depends - do I get a record player, an amp and speakers, too? If I had all that stuff, I'd probably be more interested in trying to use it to get off the island so I can listen to more than five albums for the rest of my life. If that didn't work, I'd still rather record my own stuff - to leave what little trace I could of my existence and sensibilities.
Anyway . . . my five favorite albums . . . that's a hard one. I guess I'd have to pick BrianEno's Taking Tiger Mountain or Here Come the Warm Jets, Frank Zappa's We're Only In It for the Money or almost any Zappa album, Igor Stravinsky's Soldier's Tale and Rites of Spring - in a double album, so that only counts as one, the Beatles' Revolver or Magical Mystery Tour or Sgt. Peppers, Sly Stone's Life (’95 edition with the song Only One Way Out of This Mess) or Fresh or Small Talk, plusFrankenchristby the Dead Kennedys. I guess there's more than five there, but it's kind of like asking a parent which child to sacrifice - pretty tough choice.
So there you have it. For more information on FRANK, check out his site and Myspace page. And if you’re in the Bay Area, be sure to catch him in person at the Ivy Room (Albany, CA) on September 8th and at the Mama Buzz Café (Oakland) on September 16th. Thanks Frank!
*PS – we weren’t kidding. If you think that you are extremely interesting and talented, send us an email, if we agree – you’re in!
Last week’s hipster post sparked off some interesting debate – similar conversation is still happening at the original ADBUSTERS post – and I wanted to use this opportunity to segue into another loosely related topic. While compiling my “research” for said post, I read another contemptuous denunciation of hipster culture - this time in Time Out New York, by Christian Lorentzen, titled “Why The Hipster Must Die.”
Let’s try to get off the subject of hipsters for a bit. Although the article is doggedly focused on the topic, he manages to mix in this zine [specializing in hipster-type stuff] critique:
“…The Believer lavishes its literary and pop-culture idols with a uniform layer of affection that renders it near impossible to distinguish the great from the mediocre. This aesthetic of relativism grants everybody an A for effort and allows anyone projecting the image of an artist to conceive of himself as such.”
If you ask me, it’s a clean and solid blow. His assessment of The Believer might be apt - I wouldn’t know, I haven’t explored the site yet - but I’d apply his critique in a larger perspective. The way I see it, the whole “A for effort” doctrine has distilled much of the current cultural crop - migrating out of nursery schools and pee-wee soccer fields to become the mantra of a generation.
While this is great for those with low self esteem, what does it mean to the critics of the world? I’m only half-kidding... It seems we live in a time where rambunctious self expression is welcomed by all would be trend-setters (and followers) as an adolescent rite of passage. Rock and roll camps for kids, anyone? How punk rock is that?
This support for creative output, no matter what the quality, has got to be a direct response to the lack of arts education in public schools. That’s my best guess. And at its core, I would agree that it’s a good thing. However, every coin has a flipside and in this case, side B is just a bunch of filler.
I have a theory that this blind acceptance of amateurism (musically speaking, anyway) is the inevitable evolution ofPunk Rock. On an old blog, I wrote an essay titled: The Unspoken Influence of Punk Rock: The Hacker Years. The basic premise: One thing that made Punk exciting was the idea that anyone with the will could do it - three chords and the truth, etc. Almost thirty years later, the bar for even the most rudimentary skills has dropped pretty low. The rule today seems to be that it’s the self-expression that has value, not the actual craft. It’s kind of reminiscent of the abstract expressionalism argument, now that I think about it…
(On a completely side note: two funny books that play on the abstract expressionalism debate – Tom Wolfe’s The Painted Word and Kurt Vonnegut’s Bluebeard. Good stuff.)
So what is the critic to do? And by critic I mean anyone with tastes that don’t mirror popular culture (or ALT culture for that matter). If you read Portland’s local weeklypapers, you’ll see that critical evaluation has largely given way to a more syrupy and caffeinated form of hype. This manufactured excitement has the ability to instantly legitimize any artifact, no matter what the dimensions or quality. This legitimization strengthens with each subsequent blog post, Myspace hit and party pic. The mediocrity becomes transparent when shared across the spectrum - since all compatriots are fashioned from the same cloth.
Lorentzen is not impressed. He does not find the nurturing of adolescent creativity a valid artistic genre. He takes a stand against the “A for effort” artistes and their calls to arms. He writes:
“…It proliferates as a social plague among hipsters who invite their entire address book to readings, shows and art openings. The e-mails arrive, and though it is known in advance that the art will be nothing much, the trek is [hopefully] made. The avant-garde illusion ultimately sustains itself on free beer.”
I remember reading one of our weekies’ recap of the 2008 PDX Pop Now! Festival where the author, after surviving a week’s worth of original bands du jour, and upon hearing the final act (whose name I can’t remember) who apparently could play their instruments quite well, felt compelled to remark: “Wow…and they were like, real musicians!”
Considered to be Charles Mingus’ Magnum Opus, Epitaph is a difficult piece of music. Composed for a 31-piece jazz orchestra, it is somewhat infamous for having an incredibly monstrous score - four feet high and 4,235 measures long – and was discovered in Mingus’ closet 10 years after his death (1979).
The only performance of the piece during Mingus’ lifetime was, by most accounts “ a travesty.”
"There's this famous, legendary disastrous concert and recording session in Town Hall [in New York], where I happened to be present, And it was one of the most chaotic and frustrating and disastrous concerts that anybody has ever heard, because the music was so difficult and so strange. He hadn't had a chance to rehearse it properly and the copyists were, indeed, even still copying some of the music –- it wasn't even fully ready. And so the musicians couldn't handle it, and so eventually the concert was aborted…”
Apparently Mingus was so distraught from the experience that never visited the score again in his lifetime.
It started with a clever, if depressing ADBUSTERS article by Douglas Haddow entitled “Hipster: The Dead End of Western Civilization.”I don’t need to summarize, the title spells it out well enough. Read through the article and you will be treated to a particularly scathing denunciation of this current pop culture phenomenon. Haddow provides many tasty and well aimed quotes like:
…We’ve reached a point in our civilization where counterculture has mutated into a self-obsessed aesthetic vacuum…
And:
…While previous youth movements have challenged the dysfunction and decadence of their elders, today we have (a) youth subculture that mirrors the doomed shallowness of mainstream society…
And:
…the youth of the West are left with consuming cool rather that creating it… We are a lost generation, desperately clinging to anything that feels real, but too afraid to become it ourselves. We are a defeated generation, resigned to the hypocrisy of those before us, who once sang songs of rebellion and now sell them back to us…
Whoa. Pretty harsh, no? As much as I enjoyed the author’s analysis, I can’t help but note that this condemnation is awfully reminiscent of previous youth culture critiques. After all, Punk wasn’t heralded by anyone outside the few who actually “got it” back in the seventies. And at it’s inception, it certainly wasn’t a “movement.” More like an anti-culture, if you’ll indulge my turn of phrase. It’s only through hind sight that Punk’s angry rebellion is now regarded as having significant cultural value.
But that’s not my point…
Aside from the wanton shelling of hipsters, what I found most interesting was the suggestion that this particular youth “movement” added up to nothing more than a consumer trend – one that has little to do with anything truly cultural or rebellious. To quote Haddow:
…Hipsterdom is the first “counterculture” to be born under the advertising industry’s microscope, leaving it open to constant manipulation but also forcing its participants to continually shift their interests and affiliations. Less a subculture, the hipster is a consumer group – using their capital to purchase empty authenticity and rebellion…
It always comes back to money, don’t it?Has it always been like this? Sadly, yes. However, the scale does seem to be unprecedented.
But don’t stop yet, there’s more…
What really made me pause – in a related blog post titled: “Cheap Beer. Why Do Hipsters Drink PBR?” - was the story of how a good old fashioned corporate façade (Pabst Blue Ribbon beer) managed, literally without any effort on their part, to become the de facto symbol of today’s youth counterculture. I know, I know, its too ironic to be true. Yet…
Did you know that Pabst (and parent company) has severed all ties to its Milwaukee heritage? The only thing linking it to the former brewing capital is a P.O. box address. Did you know that years ago, it completely eliminated its blue collar work force and outsourced all production (of Pabst and 29 other brands including Schlitz, Carling Black Label, Falstaff, Olympia, Stroh’s, Lone Star, Rainier, Old Style, Colt 45, St. Ides and Old Milwaukee) to another corporation based in South Africa? In addition to staff involved in the battle over the denied retirement benefits of former employees, Pabst is now just a company full of salesmen. In the post, Dennis E. Garrett, a marketing professor at MarquetteUniversity (in Milwaukee, Wisconsin) is quoted:
“…PBR’s blue-collar, honest-workingman, vaguely anti-capitalist image-image attached to it by consumers-is a sham. You really couldn’t do much worse in picking a symbol of resistance to phony branding.”
I’ve heard it said, not sure if it’s true, that my city, Portland, Oregon consumes more Pabst Blue Ribbon per capita than anywhere. Go figure. I find the beer too sweet, myself. But the point is…
…What was the point? I don’t even remember. Maybe, the point is that it’s waaay too easy to make fun of hipsters - no one would dare consider themselves one anyway. Maybe, its that all this “corporate vs. authenticity” bullshit is our own damn fault because we place too much importance on things that speak to who we are as individuals - but in the end is only stuff. Everything is for sale and only has value if value is attached to it. My Converse All-Stars are now made by Nike. My Pabst is now no different than Budweiser… What can I buy that is authentic anymore?
Maybe, we have all become too individually focused.
If everyone has their “own personal brand” that defines “who I am” by saying “this is me, I’m unique” then we’re all going to be uniquely similar in our parallel quests for individuality. Along the way, we’re going to end up doing some questionable things… Like drink Pabst because we think it’s blue collar and anti-corporate.
We could end up going a step further and start believing all the things that get posted online, accepting every entry (including this one) as valid and meaningful.... Or, we could post every hope, fear, dream, nightmare, exploit (and rant), every minute of the day - putting our psyches on display in a raw attempt at cultivating some sort of celebrity (who me?)…. Maybe, we will someday allow our whims to dictate what holds value and let our over stimulated and underdeveloped impulses take charge in the name of self expression and aesthetic originality, doing things…that really don't…make…sense…at all… even shooting ourselves in our proverbial feet (or worse) because everything coolhas already been done…and just not authenticenough…
…I came across another old interview (isn’t the internet just wonderful?). This time with one of my all time heroes: Mr. Bill Laswell. Possibly the most productive artist EVER, Laswell is simply a machine. He has a very unique take on things. Check it out:
Interviewer: You’re probably the most prolific musician on the face of the Earth. It’s rare for a week to go by without at least one new Laswell-related album coming out. What motivates you to maintain this pace and output?
BL: It's responsibility really. A lot of it has to do with commitment. A lot of it has to do with the responsibility of helping people resolve or realize something. There's a part of it that's me just trying to get it done because I have that commitment. And certain times there's money involved. I have an overhead, so I have to create projects. The only way I make money is by making records. I'm not from a family of money. No-one's given me anything. I have to pay people, so I have to produce. I have to make records. That’s combined with helping people who realize they’re in trouble—you know, somebody from somewhere needs a record deal so they can have a family, so they can have a life. That's all part of it. So, we just keep pounding away to get everybody in place, including myself. It's not that I’m obsessed with an overabundance of activity. It's all just responsibility and commitment to staying alive—to keeping everything in place, not just for myself, but for a great deal of people. So, when people review things, they may not be talking about an artist who sat down and figured out something and said "This is my goal. This is what I want to do and I’m trying to impress somebody." It might be reviewing somebody who’s trying to save somebody’s life. So, good or bad, it means absolutely nothing compared to life. You’re just trying to help.
It’s been remarked a few times that this blog is “jazz centric.” For that I need to apologize, since jazz is by no means my sole musical interest. Looking back, it does seem that I’ve been wading in the jazz pool enough that it’s time for some variety. On that note, I’d like to take a trip back to the days of my youth and revisit one of my first musical loves: The Toy Dolls.
Still going after almost 30 yrs (though I haven’t checked them out in a LONG while), the Toy Dolls were/are a highly caffeinated cartoon-ish punk band that drank thirstily from the cup of Chuck Berry. In heyday of 80’s American hardcore, where bands like the Cro-Mags and Agnostic Front ruled the East Coast scene, the Dolls were, for me, a welcome change of pace. Also, since they were British and loosely affiliated with the Oi! movement, you could listen to them without fear of getting beat up by the skinhead faction - which was present at every damn show in those days.
The Dolls had cult status in the US. In my hometown, there were a handful of us who grabbed up every Dolls record we could find. As it turns out, they all sound pretty much the same. So if you are interested, I suggest checking out my favorite: 1983’s Dig That Groove Baby (pictured above). It’s one of the records I used to teach myself to play the drums. The title track kicks things off and pretty much sums up everything the Toy Dolls were/are about - and what I loved about them. Enjoy the video and the lyrics. Poetry, man. Poetry…
Friday Night Is Bath Night This Is What They Say We Are Gonna Dig The Groove, We've Waited All Day We Wear Trendy Trousers With Belts A Mile Too Long We Are Gonna Catch The Bus Into The Town We Are Boogie On Down...
Dig That Groove Ba-A-By Dig That Groove Ba-A-By Dig That Groove Ba-A-A-A-By Dig That Groove Ba-A-By Dig That Groove Ba-A-By Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Dig Digga Digga Digga Dig That Groove Baby
There They Are Again Covered In Old Spice They Think They Will Get The Girls Cause They Smell Nice, They All Call Me Riff Raff 'Coz I Wear A Crombie I Couldn't Stand It Being Just Like Them They All Look Like Puffs Not Men
See That Trendy There She Used To Be A Punk Now She's Off To The Disco To Listen To Junk Her Boyfriend Was A Skinhead He Used To Shout Oi! Oi! Play That Funky Music That's What They Say Now Come With Me And I'll Show You How
Phil Schaap is a hardcore Charlie Parker enthusiast. He is also a prominent fixture in the NYC jazz radio community. Love him or hate him (I've only read about him - but I understand that he is a polarizing figure) he can certainly lay down some food for thought. As someone who is about to wade into the waters of musical academia, the following quote - from the New Yorker's extensive profile - caught my eye:
"The school system is creating six thousand unemployable musicians a year—from the Berklee College of Music, Rutgers, Mannes, Manhattan, Juilliard, plus all the high schools,” he said. “There are more and more musicians, and no gigs, no one to listen. So what happens to these kids? They work their way back to the educational system and help create more unemployable musicians. .."
I already know that there are no jobs for musicians and I still plan on studying music academically, Does that make me crazy, stoopid or both?
I stumbled across an old Jazz Times interview with John Zorn (I'm guessing - late 90's/early 00's) which includes some candid reflections on the state and future of the music and the biz. It’s a great read. Quite refreshing compared to a lot of the discussion going around on various music forums and blogs – where the topics tend to be centered on “how am I gonna get paid?” in the new digital age. Of course, he doesn’t bother to talk much biz, instead he rails against the greed and consumerism that steer us toward the corporate mass market and away from independence and individuality…
Many are rightly concerned that there is no way for a musician to make a living these days. It’s a topic I’ve touched upon before. And if you are considering a career in the music biz, I would agree that it’s a scary time.
What does this have to do with Zorn? Well… since you asked, I’ve cut out some (in my opinion) very poignant quotes from the interview, for anyone who fancies themselves an artist. We sometimes forget what it's all about. I think Mr. Zorn, more than anyone else I’ve read lately, hits the points that many – in the mad rush to find a “new 2.0 business model” – are missing.
Quote #1. It’s long but I don’t want to distill it by editing.
…That’s what it takes— courage. It takes more courage than most people have. There’s less than one percent of people like that, but the world could not exist without them. The world would not move forward without them, and I really believe that. I think the outsiders, the individualists, the people who have a messianic belief in themselves and are able to stick with their vision despite all odds—and believe me, every day of my life I’m haunted and tormented by the voices of people that are saying in my ear, “Maybe you’re wrong.” But the people that can stick with that, they’re the ones that are really going to make a difference in the world. And they will always be a small number and I’ve always aspired to be one of that number.
I think about the people that I admire, people like Jack Smith, who lived in a small apartment right over here on First Avenue and died of AIDS 10 years ago. I worked with him for about eight years in the late ‘70s helping him with his theater performances that never more than 10people attended. And, I mean, this was some of the greatest shit I ever experienced. Here wasa guy my age performing for 10 people. And I think about John Cage not getting an orchestra commission until he was over 50 years old. When he was my age he was still working as a dishwasher, you know? I think about that and I say, “Those are the models. I’ve gotta live up to that.”
Am I that passionate, driven and confident that I will wash dishes when I am 50, because that’s the only way to pay the bills? It just may come to that thewaythingsare going. Music isn’t exactly a rare commodity....
…I do think that history is going to have to be rewritten in the next hundred or so years, as it always has been. People that were really popular in their time eventually disappeared and were forgotten. And people who struggled and did it the hard way and concentrated on the music and tried to make something great, eventually their work came to light. It’s often well after they’re dead. It’s rarely in their lifetime and if it is in their lifetime it’s at the end of it… That’s beautiful in a certain sense and a fucking tragedy in another sense…
Are you seeing the same theme as I am? The word that comes to my mind when reading all this is SACRIFICE. What are we willing to sacrifice in the name of art and expression? Is it a right or a privilege or a goddamn necessity?
I think about what the truly gifted musicians I know all have in common. Some basic beliefs… Music is sacred. EVERY NOTE is important. Every time you pick up an instrument is a performance – and it could be your last – so put everything you have into it.
Thinking of it this way... keeps things simple, and much more profound.
So here is my new mantra: You are a musician, no one owes you anything. You owe everything to the music. Do not think in terms of what you want to get (fame, fortune, recording contracts, free donuts for life) but in terms of what you are willing to give.
When it comes to appreciating the finer points of our American musical heritage, there will always be something or someone that one just doesn't "get." Take Frank Sinatra. He's been held in high regard for a long, long time. But us young folks who weren't around to experience his magic first hand might associate him more with camp, kitch and all that Vegas/Rat Pack/Cannonball Run II stuff.. as opposed to what really made him great.
Via Grow a Brain, I found this discussion going back an forth about just what made 'Ol Blue Eyes the legend he was. One contributor put it like this...
...I value him for his phrasing. It's hard to explain until you listen to a bunch of Sinatra, but he has a way of constructing musical lines that sounds so easy and carefree. They say that the early beboppers listened to Sinatra and tried to copy elements of his phrasing. If you listen to early Sonny, Bird, or Dizzy, you can hear some of this.
And on another note:
And from a pop culture sense, well, he is "so great" for the same reason that any pop culture icon is "so great". He had sex with some hot women, he did drugs with some important people, and he had a famously large package, apparently.
This brilliant little piece of satire certainty made an impression on my monkey brain. “What is the Monkeysphere?” somehow manages to identify the root of disharmony in our society, why it is what it is, and what can be done about, in two seriously funny pages of text. I wonder what it says about my intellectual prowess - that I find writing like this to be as profound and thought provoking as anything by Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, or Dr. Phil?
Snippets don't do it justice. It’s the first time I’ve read anything by David Wong (at Cracked.com). More please…
Don't ask me what that title means, I'm working stream of consciousness here.
Andrew Wilshusen isn't afraid to say what's on his mind. Sometimes the truth ain't pretty. Here's an excerpt from a recent post that discusses some of the negative sides of performance.
Performing by drumming in public is a pain in the ass that only fellow musicians can understand. First, you have to convince a venue to let you play there. Then you have to try to coordinate a time and place to get other musicians together to practice. Then you have to hope a miracle happens and that those musicians show up in time to make use of practice, as musicians are seemingly always running late. Unless the practice is taking place at my home, I have to get to the practice space, which requires: packing up my drums; loading them in my car; driving to the place; unloading my drums; setting up; waiting for everyone else to show up, set their stuff up and probably stop drinking and/or smoking weed; practicing; tearing down my drums; loading them in the car; driving home and unloading my car. This all must be repeated for every practice as well as the gig itself. I’ve driven to venues up to 6 hours away on several occasions, and have had to haul my drums ¼ mile to get them to and from the gig. At the gig itself: the room generally sounds horrible and is filled with smoke; the soundman, if any, usually has no idea what they’re doing; you almost never get paid enough to cover the gas it cost to get there; if there is any audience (usually limited to the bartender and the other bands playing that night, although they often show up late for their set and leave immediately afterward. Not to mention they often are unbearable to listen to…), most seem to not care about what you’re doing whatsoever which really makes one ponder why waste all this time doing it. After the gig, you have to listen to everyone’s bullshit opinions (usually consisting of them lying to your face) about your music, which is probably the worst part of it all as far as I’m concerned.
I hope he doesn't mind that I posted this. It struck a chord with me. I can't say that I've never felt bitter, hurt or annoyed. This thing known as artistic expression has a lot of appendages. Sometimes spitting it out, and letting the duck be a duck (so to speak) is the only thing to do.
For those who don't know, Andrew is also an accomplished improv drummer. Check out this solo where he only uses a ride cymbal and his hands.
In any list of favorite movies, I’ll always stick Alex Cox’s “REPO MAN” in there somewhere. It’s one of the few movies I can watch over and over. After stumbling across this NY Times article via Running the Voodoo Down, I dug a little deeper into the mysterious (and intense) world of the repo man. Through diligent journalism (Wikipedia) and some copy and pasting, I now know more than I ever thought I would about 1) the movie and 2) the career.
“I shall not cause harm to any vehicle nor the personal contents thereof, nor through inaction let that vehicle or the personal contents thereof come to harm. It's what I call the Repo Code.”
“One of the most important skills a recovery agent learns is to read the potential pop. You have to know in your heart what the worst case scenario could be. You have to be able to visualize what it is gonna take for you to get your unit and get clear. You have to be prepared for potential confrontation by someone bigger than you or uglier than you or just plain out someone that is having a worse day than you.”
...Forget porn. Hipster Runoff offers up some truly entertaining reads to pass the time. For example, ever asked yourself:
"Is it still cool to assume that European women have hairy arm pits, or is that stereotype dead? Did hairy armpits die when EuroDisney invaded France? I know hairy pits used to be a widely accepted generalization, but I just want to make sure to update my stereotype files if things have changed. I would feel comfortable thinking that '20 year old vegan bisexual females who listen to a lot of feminist Icelandic freak folk' are the new girls with hairy arm pits, or whatever other subgenre of females. I just want to be true to myself and be true to our evolving world."
It's also got a ton of pictures of young folk looking very unique and individual. See pic above.
But seriously, the folks who add the words 'n stuff are funny as hell.
In this business-centric socio-capitalistic playground we call the here and now, I sometimes get asked why I still bother with the whole “music thing.” As if it were an adolescent phase that should have been outgrown long ago.
Unlike seemingly most of the “serious” musicians out there, I did not come from a home in which music and the arts played a fundamental role. I was not a prodigy. No one in my family played an instrument or took more than a passing interest in music. The first concert I attended was a punk rock show at an Elks Lodge when I was 16.
In many ways, I’m still in there at the Elks, watching the Combat Hamsters furiously mangle their instruments before a sparse but enthusiastic crowd. Though I joke about how I’ve “tried to give it up” it’s pretty clear (to me) that music is what I do - and possibly what I do best. Bank accounts be damned.
So… why? Why do I bother? Well… I recently came across a quote that sums it up well enough. Take it however you want and for whatever it’s worth…
…to be faced with unclothed art is a somewhat frightening proposition, even for the most astute critics and constituents, but all any artist asks is what drummer Ted Robinson said to Amiri Baraka in 1965: “Since God has bestowed me with the want to execute the sound that I feel, I shall proceed.” *
Just like the inevitable spring thaw or adolescent hair growth, there comes a time in every collaborative musical endeavor when a decision must be made. This phenomena seems to be a seminal part of the true Rock and Roll experience. Yes, I’m talking about the band naming process. There’s a fine line between clever and stupid…
I can’t tell you the levels of both mirth and frustration I have felt during this rite of passage. There is a definite pattern and it happens almost every time. From my own experience, it’s as follows…
1. It is agreed that it is time for a name to be chosen. Band mates will suggest names. Generally, these have accumulated over time. Each member has a handy list they’ve been collecting over the years.
2. Phase one is squashed. No one can agree. You hate my favorite as I do yours. I start to doubt your taste and creative prowess.
3. Rapid fire suggestions, stream of consciousness creativity. Session quickly degenerates into the ridiculous, obscene and stupid. This third stage can last anywhere from an hour up to many months.
4. The dangerous forth stage is entered usually unknowingly. Worn and down and exhausted, judgment becomes impaired. This is where 90% of names happen, out complete fatigue.
5. The band is named. Everyone is lukewarm if not completely turned off. You will begin to hate the name roughly three weeks after your website is finished.
If none of the above sounds appetizing, you can go a different route. Let’s explore some of the recent trends that have been used in the naming process.
The Combo – combine two or three random and/or opposite names into one. Adds a bit of irony and is just esoteric enough to be considered “arty.” Example: the Brian Jonestown Massacre. My old friend Brent (of Wholphin fame) was a master at this technique. Some classic examples of his work include: Scott Beowulf, JFKFC and the John Cougar Concentration Camp (wait, that one might be real) He kept a running list but that’s all I can remember.
Another technique that has been steadily gaining popularity is the Complete Sentence. Don’t worry if it’s grammatically correct, just make sure its long. Examples: And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead, The Plot to Blow Up the Eiffel Tower and This Bike is a Pipe Bomb.
If you’re still having trouble finding that perfect name, try this. Sent my way by Roland of Rol’s Rants, it will quickly give you thousands of terrible band names. It could take years to think up so many.
Rhyme Culture links to a sizable collection of photographs from 
I guess 
