"Which one's Pink?"

When Pink Floyd played Hamilton's Civic Stadium (now Ivor Wynn, and soon to be replaced by the PanAm Stadium) my grandmother (Nana) asked me, "Are you going to see Purple Harold?" I laughed, and replied that living as close to the stadium as we did...we didn't need to buy a ticket. Sure enough, we could hear Purple...err...Pink Floyd quite well until the wind changed. On Friday night at Hugh's Room in Toronto the wind changed a few times as a diverse group of Ontario musicians came together for The Great Gig in the Sky. This was another of Michael Wrycraft's tribute shows. He does about 5 of them a year. So far I've seen a Beatles show, Randy Newman, and last year's Tom Waits tribute and they've all had fine music, community spirit and lots of fun. That's how music should be.

Sure there are songs which don't sound like much fun. Roger Waters has written more than his share of them! The Final Cut album is full of them! No laughs there! Paul Neufeld & Denis Keldie (on keyboards and accordion) sure made that clear. Their versions of 2 songs from that album provided the emotional downturn. Don't get me wrong, they sounded dandy, it's just that the songs are such downers. The rest of the acts chose from Floyd albums Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, Animals, and The Wall. Wrycraft advised to stay with the hits, he "[didn't] care about Syd Barrett anyway!" [And there I was wondering who would do "Bike" or "Arnold Layne".] The songs that worked best were the hits, "Have a Cigar", "Money" and "Wish You Were Here" all done very differently than Roger, Dave, Nick and Richard did 'em, but all keeping the melody and treating them with respect. The love this group of musicians showed for the songs of Pink Floyd was incredible. When Retrocity began the night with vocalese versions which included percussion and guitar solos I wondered how anyone would top them. Every time another act stepped onto the stage, the same thought ran through my mind, and yet, each one was just as mind-blowing as the last. The loopers were extraordinary, although David Celia had some trouble with the lyrics, his construction of Pink Floyd's audio wash was amazing. Jean-Paul deRoover added a roomful of new fans with his energetic set. Michael Occhipinti and Elizabeth Shepherd, Andrea Koziol, the remnants of LAL (essentially Ian deSouza on bass) and Dominic Mancuso all provided stunning renditions of Floyd classics. If I'd had a pen with me I could've credited each performer with the correct songs but I was so entranced by the concept, and the incredible music that I can only say, everyone played beautifully, and all the favourites were covered (except maybe for "Bike" and "Arnold Layne"). An extraordinary evening topped off by a stage full of tired singers and players rambling through "Another Brick In the Wall", "Hey...teacher...leave those kids alone!" Thanks Michael...just remember though...some of us like Syd Barrett!

So THAT'S a House Concert!?!

Dr. John has a great song called "Such a Night". And it is the perfect theme for last night's house concert at Jacob Moon's backyard. He dubbed it Yardstock but there was no rain, or mud, no bad trips, they didn't have to close down the QEW, and Richie Havens didn't show up. Just 40 or 50 music lovers and a couple of really fine music makers. To get to Jacob's backyard, you have to go through his house. Gee, is it always so tidy? Suzie Vinnick stood at the front door greeting and welcoming everyone. We dragged our lawnchairs into the yard and found a spot with good sightlines. Had to move just a little because the playhouse ladder was in the way. But there were really no bad sightlines. The next door neighbours were in their yard, with other spectators, a BBQ cooking sausages and a cooler full of cold beverages. All the money went to charity. The night couldn't have been more perfect. The sky was clear, a full moon shone through the trees, and the yard was filled with peace and love. Jacob played the first set, showing off his precise guitar playing and his clear tenor. He mixed originals from his most recent CDs with some well chosen covers and pleased the crowd with every tune. He did a fine cover of Bruce Hornsby's "That's Just the Way It Is". Suzie Vinnick joined him for Paul Simon's "Under African Skies". The guy is a master looper, and showed it. After 40 minutes he announced a short break. People mingled, they grabbed another bevvie or sausage, Alison Kraus sang over the PA and the lineup for the lavatory finally diminished. Then it was Suzie's turn. After she introduced herself with the Tim Horton's jingle, she sang blues from her 2 most recent CDs. Dirty blues, funny blues, even silly blues. Between the blues she sang some originals from other albums. "Happy Here" and "Looking For a Kiss" from the Stephen Fearing produced album, and "I Need a Cowboy" from 33 Stars. She even got the audience to join in a couple times. She called Jacob to join her on a trio of blues tunes and he was only too happy to oblige. His guitar leads were looser and wilder than the carefully structured things he plays on his own songs. It was a pleasure to hear him let go. The night ended with an old spiritual which we all sang along with, and it was time to go. All I could think of was Dr.John...And it's such a night / it's such a night / Sweet confusion under the moonlight / It's such a night, such a night / To steal away, the time is right. "Sweet confusion?" Maybe not...but it sure was such a night under the moonlight...hopefully the time'll be right for Yardstock III soon enough!

Ry Cooder’s Rabble-Rousing New Album (from The New Yorker)

Originally posted July 25, 2012 by Alec Wilkinson

Ry Cooder, who over the course of fifty years has become one of the most singular musicians in America, has a new record, “Election Special,” a collection of songs with a political cast, which comes out in August. Cooder is nothing like as well known as he might be, because he would rather do practically anything than perform in public. He established himself initially as a studio musician, playing in private, and in the past decade he has played in public only a handful of times, several of them only as a sideman. “The people who like the applause should have it,” he once said, “I just don’t care for it.” He has appeared so infrequently that a feeling of nervousness has built up around the occasion. What he will meet, he knows, is three rows of guitar players with their camera phones aimed at his hands, and three more rows of wiseasses, saying, “This is supposed to be a great guitar player? How come he’s not shredding?” Remarks like that can go a long way to dampen the pleasure of the occasion for him, especially if the theatre is intimate. As for his abilities, no other guitar player has mastered the range of styles that Cooder has, or even come close—variations of blues playing (Robert Johnson and Big Bill Broonzy come to mind); slide playing that is sometimes so succinct it is searing; Joseph Spence-style fingerpicking; his own version of electric guitar playing, the most widely known example of which is “Honky Tonk Women,” which Keith Richards based on Cooder’s playing (Cooder was recording with the Stones at the time, on “Let It Bleed,” and Richards wrote the song after listening to him). Cooder’s reach is wide—if you don’t believe me, search Ry Cooder and see all the musicians who list him as an influence. Paul Simon once asked a guitar maker to build him a guitar like Cooder’s—it’s the guitar Simon is holding on the cover of “You’re the One.” Guitar playing is not the only thing Cooder does, though. He also assembled, rehearsed, picked the repertoire for, and recorded a group of old men in Cuba whom he called The Buena Vista Social Club. The record he made with them was the best-selling in world-music history, and led many musicians and producers to see dollar signs when they looked at Cuba. Cooder’s uncommonness as an artist is the exemplification of Rainer Maria Rilke’s remarks, originally made about Cezanne, “The further one goes, the more private, the more personal, the more singular an experience becomes, and the thing one is making is, finally, the necessary, irrepressible, and, as nearly as possible, definitive utterance of this singularity.” The songs that Cooder has chosen to record, and his own writings, too, have always had a populist tendency. He likes unions. He likes working men and their lore, detectives, and shadowy parts of Los Angeles, where he has lived all his life. “Election Special” expresses his scorn and outrage about what used to be called current events. “Some of these tunes are a little bitter, I will admit,” he has said. The “Mutt Romney Blues” is sung as if by Romney’s dog, the one he tied on the roof of the car when his family went on vacation. “It don’t look right / don’t seem right,” the dog sings. “Hot in the day / cold all night; Where I’m goin’ I just don’t know / Po’ dog got to bottle up and go.” “The Wall Street Part of Town,” has a narrator looking for refuge in the part of town where the wind always blows at your back and the ground tilts in your favor. In “Cold Cold Feeling,” Obama is wandering alone, late at night: “I walked up and down the White House / Till I wore the leather out from under my shoes / I didn’t have nothing but the cold cold President blues.” The narrator in “Going to Tampa” is on his way to the convention with ideas in his head. Bring back Willie Horton and scare the nation and blame the Mexicans is one of them. The record rises to a climax with “Take Your Hands Off It,” Cooder’s rebuke to politicians and their posses, the harm they have caused in the service of greed, and the damage they have done to essential rights around the world. “Get your dirty hands off my Constitution,” it begins, and each verse is a reprimand that spreads like the circles from a stone tossed into a pond. “Get your greasy hands off my Bill of Rights,” and so on, through reproductive rights and war-making. “You don’t speak for God, you know he don’t belong to you.” Pete Seeger believes that songs are more effective as political tools than writing is, because a piece of writing is read once, and songs are sung over and over. A firebrand song is what “Take Your Hands off It” is, a rabble-rousing call, and by the end, you feel all stirred up and ready to close the curtain behind you and pull some levers.

Jacob Moon

I had a drink with Jacob Moon the other night.  We met at the West Town Tavern and found a booth at the back.  They were out of Rickard's White, so JM settled for a pot of tea while I had a Rickard's Blonde.  We both made these drinks last a while. 
We talked for a bit about really bad album covers...looking through a book Jacob brought as an ice-breaker.  It's those independent vinyl albums of gospel songs that seem to be the worst. 
Jacob had some questions about the best way to approach a reviewer with new material.  Should he just mail it out, or make an initial request?  I think the request is the best route.  It's what I prefer.  Some people send me an e-mail comparing their music to something they know I like..."My new album sounds like Ry Cooder..."  Well, of course it doesn't.  It might be influenced by Ry Cooder, or have a mandolin part, or a bottleneck guitar, but it won't sound like Ry Cooder.
Jacob asked, "Okay, who would you compare me to?"
I couldn't think of anyone.  Acoustic guitar arrangements, clear tenor voice, melodic songs, maybe some looping...but really I couldn't answer his question.  I had been playing his 2005 CD eventide in the car on the way down and had thought about this...it sounded like...Jacob Moon.  Sure, I guess you could link him to dozens, hundreds of other troubadours, but that's the cheap way out.  First of all he writes songs that are spiritual, singing about God, and it's a God I recognize.  He chooses interesting songs to cover, when he does cover a song.  On eventide he does a Peter Gabriel song "Come Talk To Me", on landing he covers Paul Simon's "Under African Skies"...not your typical covers by any means.  And then there's the most famous thing he's done, a stunning rendition of Rush's "Subdivisions" on 2007's The Loop.  Surely you've seen the video on YouTube.  Rush were so taken by it they had him perform it for their induction into the Canadian Songwriter's Hall of Fame. 

He played it at a concert we hosted at our church, I told him it was the first time a Rush song had been played in that sanctuary.  He laughed.
landing is 10 years old this year, and Jacob is celebrating by releasing a newly recorded version of the same set of songs.  He thinks it will show how the songs have grown and developed, how his style has matured.  Should be out in the fall, and I am looking forward to it.  The original was recorded live and the new one was done the same way at a special couple of shows earlier this year. 
Jacob likes live recordings, this will be his third.  He plays live a lot, he wants to, has to, to maintain his career as a musician.  Somewhere I read that he had played in innumerable Indigo/Chapters stores, but is his music suitable for browsing?  I've seen people playing in these stores, and wondered how they like doing it.  I guess having your audience distracted by the new James Lee Burke book isn't that much different than having them distracted by the lack of Rickard's White on tap tonight.
Listening to Jacob Moon music as I write this I find it beautifully recorded and well-played.  I love the sound of the guitar.  Sometimes at home I will just pick up a guitar and fingerpick chords and riffs for an hour to relax myself.  Music hath charms to sooth the savage breast.  We talked about the healing powers of music.
Jacob released a Christmas album in 2007, and it's a gorgeous collection of classic seasonal songs with an added new one from Jacob's pen.  His most recent release is the EP Maybe Sunshine from 2009.  It's more melodic guitar-based music from a guy who deserves to be heard.  Check him out at www.jacobmoon.com

Recently...

Skip Prokop, drummer and songwriter from The Paupers, and Lighthouse, has a new CD. It's called Smoothside because it shows Skip's smooth side. Jazzy, almost a George Benson feel with some sterling guitar work from Matt Shelvock and featuring the keyboard work of Jesse O'Brien the album is a nice change. Mellow, relaxed, solid drumming, great production, and some interesting vocal arrangements. You can order it now and receive a signed CD, along with a signed 5"x7" photo of Skip if you're among the first 1000 to order. Listen to what they've done to a few Lighthouse tunes to get a sense of the whole thing. I'm not sure about "Pretty Lady" though. It's the lead-off track and to my ears it is very dated. Things pick-up right away though. I've been reading quite a bit lately. Mainly biographies. Carole King's A Natural Woman was my favourite, but I also enjoyed Greg Allman's My Cross To Bear and Sophia Parkes's story of Eliza Carthy Wayward Daughter. Check my reviews on Critics at Large. Was supposed to tip a jar with Jacob Moon last night but we got our times mixed up and we had to postpone. Looking forward to chatting with him about music. He's hosting a house concert in August with the amazing Suzie Vinnick. She'll be promoting her new live blues CD. Can't wait. But before that we'll be in Chicago for a visit to Buddy Guy's Legends, and to check out The Million Dollar Quartet on-stage.

"The Weight" (what does it all mean?)

Somebody asked the question about whether the lyrics to "The Weight" were Biblical or not. OK, in fact there was no question...they simply said, "Well that song is all from the Bible, you know!" Sorry...that's not the case. Even in the Bible there's nobody named "Crazy Chester"! Nazareth, where the story takes place, refers to the town in Pennsylvania about 70 miles north of Philadelphia. In the liner notes for the Across the Great Divide box set, Robbie Robertson (who wrote the song) is quoted as saying that he chose that place because they make legendary Martin Guitars there, so he was aware of the place and been there once or twice. We stopped there on a trip to Pennsylvania, and had a great tour of the Martin Guitar Factory. In fact, if we hadn't got lost three or four times and had arrived when we meant to...we would've run in to Eric Clapton checking out a guitar he was having built! The characters in the song - Crazy Chester, Luke, Anna Lee, are based on friends of the band. In Levon Helm's autobiography This Wheel's On Fire: Levon Helm And The Story Of The Band, he explained: "We had two or three tunes, or pieces of tunes, and 'The Weight' was one I would work on. Robbie had that bit about going down to Nazareth - Pennsylvania, where the Martin guitar factory is at. The song was full of our favorite characters. "Luke" was Jimmy Ray Paulman. "Young Anna Lee" was Anna Lee Williams from Turkey Scratch. "Crazy Chester" was a guy we all knew from Fayetteville who came into town on Saturdays wearing a full set of cap guns on his hips and kinda walked around town to help keep the peace,if you follow me. He was like Hopalong Cassidy, and he was a friend of the Hawks. Ronnie would always check with Crazy Chester to make sure there wasn't any trouble around town. And Chester would reassure him that everything was peaceable and not to worry, because he was on the case. Two big cap guns, he wore, plus a toupee! There were also "Carmen and the Devil", "Miss Moses" and "Fanny," a name that just seemed to fit the picture. (I believe she looked a lot like Caladonia.) We recorded the song maybe four times. We weren't really sure it was going to be on the album, but people really liked it. Rick, Richard, and I would switch the verses around among us, and we all sang the chorus: 'Put the load right on me!'" There has been more than a little debate among Classic Rock DJs and enthusiasts over the real meaning of this song [including the enthusiast who brought this up at the swimming pool last week!]. Robertson has insisted time and again there is no biblical subtext, but many people think he may be deflecting. Consider the following: -the narrator can't find a bed in Nazareth, and the guy to whom he makes an inquiry just smiles and says "no" -Carmen and the devil were walking side by side, Carmen can go but her friend the devil has to stick around - an allusion to ever-present temptations -"Crazy Chester followed me and he caught me in the fall" - possible allusion to Paul on the road to Damascus [although...I think the lyric is "caught me in the fog" which rhymes a whole lot better with "take Jack my dog"! And what "allusion to Paul on the road to Damascus"? Saul wasn't 'crazy' and okay, while the Bible does say "he fell to the ground" that's a pretty big stretch to think Crazy Chester alludes to him!] -the most glaring one: "I do believe it's time to get back to Miss Fanny, you know she's the only one who sent me here with her regards for everyone" - Miss Fanny is the one who sent him to Nazareth, but now it's time for him to go back to her; Miss Fanny is God, the "time" in question is the crucifixion, and "regards for everyone" is Jesus dying for all of man's sins. That's the most glaring allusion! That Miss Fanny is GOD? Yikes! I think it more likely, and I believe Robbie Robertson would agree with me, that the lyric is a stream of consciousness thing combining characters in and around Woodstock, with some herb-induced creativity, and a little bit of luck. Great song, but not quite as deep as some might like you to believe!

To Hear Doc Watson, You Really Had to See Him

This appreciation of Doc Watson by Ry Cooder appeared in the New York Times artsbeat blog.

Doc Watson, who died on Tuesday at age 89, was the first truly great guitar player I ever saw up close. For me, growing up in Santa Monica, Calif., in the 1950s meant that great musicians were only manifested on records and radio, making it hard to catch a glimpse of the person behind the layers of sound and presentation. You knew people like Hank Snow and Merle Travis were great, but you couldn’t be sure how much the Nudie suits and custom boots had contributed to the sound you heard on KXLA radio. Then, Doc and the banjo player Clarence Ashley and some of the boys drove out to Los Angeles for the first U.C.L.A. Folk Festival in 1963. On the lawn by Royce Hall, the gothic classical music venue, they gathered around and sang “Daniel Prayed,” an intricate call-and-response-style gospel tune. The public was here and there, wandering around aimlessly, like they do at these events. It was casual and unannounced — we hadn’t entered into the hyperorganized way of music appreciation just yet — that came later with the big rock shows. Fred Price led the song with his old man’s ghostly voice, Clint Howard joined in on farm-boy tenor and Doc added his resonant bass, which was severe and shocking. In their tradition, the instruments are rested and the song is like a breathing exercise. Daniel prayed every morning, noon, and night, it says. I wondered if there were more people right there on the lawn than had ever assembled in their church back home in Deep Gap, N.C., to hear about Daniel and the nonstop prayer, but that didn’t bother Doc and the boys. Then, Ed Pearl, the owner of the folk music club the Ash Grove, took them away somewhere to get a sandwich. Their place back home would probably just about fit in between the lawn and the food tent, I remember thinking. I also remember thinking that these men know something about music I’ll never know, even if I practice and study all my life. You have to be born into it. That way, every note and word and gesture has meaning, and your notes and sung words line up with those of your friends and make a whole statement about life that is tiny but eternal. Now another rounder has gone. Doc made many good recordings, but you needed to be in his close presence to pick up the sound of his life and times; the microphone can’t do that for you, I’m sorry to say. Later that day, I was sitting on a bench playing guitar, and Doc and Ed Pearl walked by. Doc stopped and listened. “Who’s that?” he asked Ed. “That’s Ry Cooder, he’s a youngster.” “Sounds pretty good,” Doc said, and they walked on.