Thirty Years Burning Down the Road

Bruce sat at his kitchen table to record a tape of demos. Rough outline sketches that would serve as a blueprint for the E Street's next album. He couldn't get past the vision of the music from the demos, even (supposedly) after recording the album with his band. Thank goodness, his manager, Jon Landau, said, "this is the album." What Bruce gave us was, not only half of his smash Born in the U.S.A., was his noir classic, Nebraska.
Here.

His best album? Very possibly.

The 2012 presidential campaign officially launched, with the Iowa caucus rolling through the state. Who would have thought that Mitt Romney would have tied with, all people, Rick Santorum? Ron Paul third, Newt Gingrich fourth, Rick Perry and Michelle Bachmann distant fifth and sixth, respectively. I can't remember the last time such a far-right grouping of candidates ran for president. In 1964 and 1968, Ronald Reagan was the lone example of the far-right branch of the GOP; today, he'd probably be the most liberal of them all. This is going to be interesting.

My Favorites of 2011

It's been a while, indeed. '11 has been a kicker, though, and I'm glad to see it go. With that, I still found many treasures to make my life happy. My favorite novel is Amor Towles's Rules of Civility, a book I find myself thinking about nearly daily. I saw many concerts, including U2's 360 Tour, which was stunning, a beautiful Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, the Branford Marsalis Quartet and last month, Black Crowe Rich Robinson at the Cafe du Nord. Truth & Salvage Co. rocked me five times, not including that awesome Giants game and a super Christmas present of their 2011 Fall Tour poster.

I spent much of my attention filling in my back-catalogue, falling in love with the Greenwich Village folk scene and much of early Dylan; Dave van Ronk's excellent first albums and many albums of the '70s singer-songwriters. I loved listening to my children sing Pete Seeger songs while having my head spun with some of the most amazing jazz from the 1950s and 1960s. My favorite discovery of a non-'11 disc is by the young whipper-snapper Dylan LeBlanc, who released an amazing country-folk album last year titled, "Pauper's Field". It's a stunningly beautiful, haunting record that paints pictures of criminals, lost lovers, unloving children and doting parents, all wound within a seeming concept-album story from yesteryear. And to boot, on vinyl. A true find.

While I came upon some wonderful releases this year, here are my Top 10 (mainly in no order):

10. Branford Marsalis and Joey Calderozzo - Songs of Mirth and Melancholy - a beautiful duet record of piano and saxphones.
9. Preservation Hall Jazz Band and Del McCoury Band - American Legacy - a perfect blend of New Orleans jazz and bluegrass. A match made in heaven.
8. Jason Isbell & 400 Unit Here We Rest - caught him in June and October and his record and performances top his former band, my beloved Drive-By Truckers.
7. Ryan Adams - Ashes & Fire - not perfect but a great, moody introspective set of songs.
6. Steve Earle - I'll Never Get Out of This Alive - a tremendous story of Nawlins and the resurrection of that bedeviled city.
5. Sarah Lee Guthrie and Johnny Irions - Bright Examples - folk rock by Arlo's daughter and her hubby. A happy, peaceful album with great guitar playing by Johnny and Neal Casal. Her grandpa'd be proud.
4. Paul Simon - So Beautiful Or So What - who said seventy would slow one down? His best record in three decades. Simon can still write haunting lyrics.
3. Whiskerman - a great folk rocker out of Oakland that I discovered randomly in the newspaper. This eponymous release has Graham Patzer playing violin while singing and I haven't forgotten it.
2. The Blank Tapes - another band out of Oakland, lead by Matt Adams. This is truly the find of the year. Technically, the BT would be labeled 'lo-fi' and yet Adams's records cover all sorts of rock styles. There's a great mid-'60s mellow vibe to many of the songs while capturing an early'70s country-rock vibe. I fell in love with the Blank Tapes so deeply I scooped up every one of the band's records in the first month of discovering them - all nine!!! Support your local artists!!!
1. My favorite record of the year: Rich Robinson's Through a Crooked Sun. The heart of the Black Crowes, this album covers the gammut of Rich's influences all the while sounding fresh and innovative. His playing is stellar, his song-writing makes one see who really pushed the other brother with the hooks we've all come to love, and the constant reminder that music of the present is nothing but a mixture of the past.

That's it, 2011. Here's to another one.

P.S. - late in the game! My self-purchased Christmas present just arrived and it's already made my list: the special edition Chris Robinson Brotherhood 10" single. With two live cuts at venues I caught gigs at (though not those specific nights), this 180-gram vinyl has a great sound, performance and song choices. I caught the CRB twice this year and both shows were amazing. Very free, a la the Grateful Dead (without, thank God, Bob Weir and his noodliness) with long, focussed jams, tight transitions and overall stellar playing. Very different from his brother, Rich. Add the two together and you don't get the Black Crowes, you get two completely different voices. A nice change for both brothers. The CRB shows were long - the special April 20th show ran three hours, twenty minutes (whereas Rich played an hour and fifty) and you were given long songs with Neal, Chris and the keyboardist Adam McDougal taking forays into wonderful musical directions. Here's a band that's been around since late Fall playing like it's been together for at least five or six years. This is a good deal. That's it. Happy New Year's. Remember all of your past NYEs and the great music recorded on this day!

Autumn Musings

Did I last write about the baseball game? National anthem, wonderful. A's and Giants fell to pieces in September. Looking to see the Brewers take the nation's hearts and the Yankees, the pennant.

Won tickets to see Branford Marsalis Quartet at Yoshi's in the city with my friend Ana. Justin Faulkner's behind the kit now and he's the ripe old age of twenty. Eighty minutes, and the BMQ altered between bop-hard bop swingers, tenor-led, and soprano ballads. Branford's playing, while demonstrating the "sheets of sound" label a-la Coltrane, has become more melodic; I spent half the night shaking my head in amazement. God's thunder, that's what it was like.
Amor Towles' Rules of Civility is the most amazing novel I've read in I don't know how many years. Was able to communicate with the author via e-mail and even meet him last Friday night at a reading at Berkeley's Books, Inc. He signed my book and we chatted, though I could have asked him a million more questions. When was the last time that you finished a book and when pining over the protagonist, simply opened the book and read it a second time? Me neither, except for this.
Last Saturday, my wife gave me my birthday present, which was a day without reponsibility. So, I grabbed my concert-going friend and we headed to the City (again) to catch another Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival day. We left EARLY and arrived before it started. Caught more acts than ever before (Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder, heard Hugh Laurie from House and his New Orleans band), Jason Isbell & 400 Unit, Kris Kristofferson and Merle Haggard, Ryan Bingham and Dead Horses, Gillian Welch and David Rawlings and Steve Earle. Steve played most of his latest album, a total keeper, and Preservation Hall Jazz Band sat in on a song. A magnificent day, from the weather to the audience to the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and touch of a day in the city. What could be better than the beginning of autumn?
Reading Last Call and just completed Ken Burns' Prohibition. Our forebears drank like fish and were ready to fight to death to protect that right. Interesting...
Steve Jobs passed away this afternoon. An icon. One who changed American society and the world. A true revolutionary and historical figure. Probably the most influential figure of the last quarter-century, even bigger than Reagan. Jobs didn't have to lie or cheat or pretend or imagine the past, he simply had to think about the future. From Apple's IIe to the mouse to the i-Everything, we owe a huge debt of gratitude to Steve Jobs. How weird will it be to watch Forrest Gump and the "fruit company" and teach contemporary history knowing that Mr. Jobs is no longer with us.
Some music I don't want to forget that's been keeping my attention of late: Whiskerman, a musician out of Oakland, with his folk-rock, Linda Ronstadt's "Don't Cry Now", "Pat Garret and Billy the Kid", "Bird & Diz", "Roy & Diz", the Monk/Rollins record and of course, whatever the hell T&S is doing as they record and tour and turn people on night after night. Now, off to pack...

Late, But...

I wanted to at least log this before I filed and/or lost some things...

Caught Truth & Salvage Co. twice (and a half) three weeks ago. Postings:

August 26, at the Starry Plough, Berkeley
Call Back
Rise Up
Island
Bad Times
L.A.
Skynyrd song (can't remember the title, again)
Charm City
Heart Like a Wheel
Summertime
She
Pick Me Up
Jump the Ship
Old Piano
Middle Island Creek
LGP
Giant
See Her
E: Games People Play (Joe South cover - first time played)
Hail Hail
Pure Mountain Angel

Went with Ana G., Claire, Brad Currie. A small venue, pretty crowded. The Real Nasty, a three piece led by a singing acoustic bassist opened. Fun show and I enjoyed the new/rare songs. Camera didn't work too well. Hung out pre-show mainly with Frank.

August 27 - Sand City Festival
Made it to a street faire, akin to an art/wine fest or corn fest but for renewable energy in Monterey. Took the whole fam, which was tough as the kids were tired/bored/freezing. From my memory:

Hail Hail
101
Island
Games People Play
Brothers, Sons and Daughters
Bad Times
Welcome to L.A.
Rise Up
Call Back
See Her
Middle Island Creek
She
Jump
Heart
Shape I'm In

Great sound, weird to sit through it all though wonderful to introduce Heather to Bill and Frank (such warm greetings) and show off the children. An hour set with good reception, though people were there to see Jackie Greene. He played for 75 minutes, half Dead covers and was a fine, solid set but nothing to write home about. I still think T&S owned the day. Very cold by dinner time and a bit of a wash when it came to whether we should have even made the trip.

Later that week, I came down with a cold and stayed home from school. While home, I figured I should see a Giants/Cubbies game and on Wednesday, August 31, there was a game at AT&T at 1:00. Just so happened that T&S sang the national anthem ;) BARTed in (bought a $2 seat sect. 330 the day before with $10 in fees), filmed them singing (BEAUTIFUL) and then charged into their section to sit and hang out all afternoon (section 113 or something, right behind home plate). Enjoyed good company, mainly with Scotty and his wife and friends but a little after with Walker, Bill and Tim. A fun day, indeed!!!

This blog is too hard to maintain. Keeping it but with no promises...

Thoughts of History and Personal Notes

The last two months have been much less stressful than the winter. It's been relatively cold and I've enjoyed the brisk weather. I need to be living somewhere that doesn't have so much heat. Watching my kids running around in the back yard with either little or no clothing in the sprinklers and bicycles makes me think I'm right. Of course my roots are here and yet it's tempting to look elsewhere...

On April 10, we caught the Preservation Hall Jazz Band at Antioch's El Campanil Theater for the second year in a row. This show was a sell-out and instead of snaking great cheap seats, we paid gold-circle second row seats. The band, while much more mellow than last year, didn't fail to deliver. Their new album is with bluegrass legend Del McCroury and his band but the PHJB played in the traditional lineup. The songs were great though unfamiliar but the band stuck with St. James' Infirmary like it did last year. They played a shorter set and though not a true revalation like the '10 performance, their music is a balm to the soul.

Ten days later, my friend Ana and I were at the New Parish to see Chris Robinson and his Brotherhood. With Neal Casal on guitar, Crowe Adam McDougal on keys and some guys I didn't know, the CRB on 4/20 played a show to a sold-out (250 people and that was IT - killer) Parish and this brand-new band sounded like they'd been together for a decade. Does anyone have a show on disc? This was killer rock and roll; mellow but tight, long jams without the noodling. I knew two or three songs max and yet was absolutely riveted for three hours and fifteen minutes of music. At the end of the first set, the guys unplugged and hopped off stage and walked right by me to their dressing room and I thanked them and patted them on their backs. I was exhausted for several days afterwards but it was all worth it. There'd better be an album coming...

On May 1st, President Obama appeared on live television to announce the death of terrorist Osama bin Laden. I sat in stunned silence as the President stated that Navy SEALs had invaded a compound in Pakistan day(s) before and shot the mastermind of 9/11. The next morning, I picked the newspaper from my driveway and had the front page laminated and mounted on my classroom wall. It took days for me to process my thoughts and emotions. It was a great announcement of an event that should not have brought great celebration but great resolve. What has changed, however, over the last two weeks, has been the GOP's lame-assed attacks of the President regarding military tactics, spending, the nation's image or the President's "resolve" on foreign affairs. While the '12 campaign doesn't start officially for another year, the GOP had better go back to the drawing board in order to attack a man who has been conservative on fiscal issues, successful on social issues and historic on foreign affairs. We'll see...

Love, Faith, Hope at the Parish

Last Thursday (5/12) Truth & Salvage Co. rolled into Oakland for a sole Bay Area shot. With some much-deserved rest (and chances to write and jam), the band hit the New Parish stage for a ninety-minute set of stalwarts and surprises. This was my third chance to see bassist Frank DiVanna with the band. March's shows were great, with hints of new material and some alterations of some of their best cuts. Thursday's set mixed album cuts with a new song, deep cut rockers and those beautiful, solid harmonies.

Pure Mountain Angel - risky opener as it has traditionally served as the farewell. The church service came early

Hail Hail - here we go...
Heart Like a Wheel - Tim taking it up a step
Welcome to L.A. - with Bill singing, "we're all looking for something"...
Pick Me Up - A new one by Walker. Mid-tempo bluesy ballad with that choir. This one will sound great on record and I can't wait. Audiences will come to love this.
Them Jeans - "South of the border, they call 'em pantalones" :)
Charm City - lay down and die, with solid singing and playing by Scott
Island - guys, please record this one. I just LOVE it.
Call Back - cool to see it buried in the set - nice, mid-tempo with the crowd singing
Rise Up - look out, here it comes
See Her - one-two punch
Middle Island Creek - they've got this one down and it's wonderful
Giant - because we love you...
E: Cowboy Song - as the guys hit the stage, I yelled this one out. "Jump" was listed but the guys looked at each other and after a couple of requests, they plowed through it.
Jump the Ship - Scott's changed the lead guitar line and has made this a meditative, soaring movement
She Really Does It - my first time hearing this one end the show and Tim just belted this one out.

Some great time talking about books and our favorite studios and rhythm sections. My friend Claire came along for her first time and she dug the whole set. The guys were true gentlemen and took great care of us, making the show yet another special set. My fourteenth and of course, another favorite. Hit the studios in the fall and knock us dead with the second album!!!

Sucking in the Seventies?

For the last several weeks, I've been fixated on the decade of my birth. I recently completed the 33 1/3 on Big Star's "Radio City" and Colum McCann's Let the Great World Spin. My beautiful wife and I watched "Man on Wire" and I've still been in the mode of my rock history class that just wrapped up the decade that Mick Jagger et al claimed that "sucked". And yet, so much of what I continue to discover, makes me love and appreciate the 1970s. Of late, I've acquired and have been spinning regularly Linda Ronstadt's "Simple Dreams", Steely Dan's first two or so lp's, Neil Young's "Live Rust" and my favorite, Bonnie Raitt's "Sweet Forgiveness". This last one, according to All Music Guide, only garnered two of five stars and yet, of my Bonnie lps, ranks number one. There aren't the "Angel of Montgomery's" or chart-topping singles but includes the '50s cover and the Jackson Browne knock-off. What makes the perfect Bonnie lp are the ballads that are so indicative of the era; chord changes that are predictable (for the era) but lacking in today's songs; her amazing slide guitar work; the production that is sparse but still driving and solidly laid down by a strong yet vulnerable female lead. Maybe the dichotomy (or paradox) of the lp is just what I'm attracted to: the strong woman with weakness; driving rock songs with yearning ballads; production filled with either lush strings (yeah, call me a sucker) a I-vi-ii-IV-V structure or an era with the social/political/gender-based relationships spelled out in ways that are both clearly-defined and contradictory.
It's not simple nostalgia, though, admittedly, the sound of the rock music is clearly dated. I can't think of a single person half my age (hell, my age) listening to this stuff, while I hear nothing but complaints about how modern pop-rock is vapid and lacking. My theory is that most of my favorite music from the Seventies is structured in the familiar blues-/gospel-/country-/ structures that are no longer the basis or format of modern music. Plus, I'm totally attracted to singers like Linda and Bonnie - the covers of "Simple Dreams" and "Sweet Forgiveness" tell it best - one woman in a dressing room, glancing at herself in the mirror, exposed and vulnerable. She's sexy to an audience and yet unsure and doubting of her strengths on her own. The other woman, just 'one of the guys' because she's plain-looking and yet strong when she sings and plays. Linda in lace and Bonnie on the Boardwalk. Contrived? Dated? No more than "42nd St." or "Weird Science" or "Bonnie and Clyde".
I can't imagine having lived through the time when one would have brought home the lp, being torn fresh from the plastic seal and being laid on the turntable, the needle brought down at 33 1/3 rpm. Not Zeppelin nor Captain & Tennille, these AOR pop records still drove so much of the Warners/Elektra/Asylum label, the same label pushing the Eagles, Fleetwood Mac and countless other multi-million selling records. I have a friend, who has many of these lp's (purchased around release date) and we've had many a late-night, sober discussion about how AMAZING this music must have been coming out when it did; just how much of this is yearning to have experienced the time of my entrance and how much of this is really about how good the music was? I dunno and don't care as here I am at eleven at night spinning discs that floor no one but myself. What do I bet that even the artists themselves could care less about the music I find so important?
I'm going to end this rave with this; I've played some of this music in bands and would love to play more of this with future bands: it's not ancient nor lame and yet there's something about it old enough and aged enough that is still damned great; timeless music does this - it hits people where they are, when they hear it and from where they are, they wonder just how this music is so good.

I Hear the Drizzle of the Rain

This beautiful mid-March night and I'm in love. For the last day and a half, we've been blessed with lovely rain, something that we're soon to be missing as the fourth month arrives. Day Five of Spring Break and I'm torn; my kids are bored and frustrated that they can't go outside and they're getting into lots of mischief. I'm ready, keys in hand, when my wife arrives home from work, to go for a drive or a drink or a spending spree and it's then I remember that they're so small, defenseless, so limited in their ability to expend their energy. I came home from a quick music binge from my locally over-priced books-n-more cavern to find Post-it notes plastered on the inside of our back entry with "I luv you" and "I Am Saree" all over them. I knelt down and embraced my children and kissed them and told them how much I love them and what they mean to me. And yet, tomorrow morning, I can tell you that before nine o'clock, my daughter will have socked my older son in the back of the head...
Part of me wishes I was hundreds of miles away at this very moment as the Truth & Salvage Co. is playing to a sell-out audience at the Troubadour in L.A. How iconic, how mythical, how amazing, for those guys to see hundreds of their friends and fans driving them to sing and play and elevate them for just two hours of their lives. I've spent a lot of time thinking about last week's shows and why they've resonated with me, maybe even moreso than their previous shows: it's what and how they share about themselves that we love and that we want in ourselves. I miss playing my guitar in a band, I love seeing how people respond to great songs and performances. And that's just ripping off other artists' music; I can't imagine playing a song that I wrote that has come to hold something of importance and meaning to people I've not met nor have known and still feel the energy of appreciation coming from their faces and body movements. I sing every word of every song for the T&S guys to show my support and faithfulness and there has been many a time where they've made eye contact with me and have made the connection; smiled (heck, Walker even pointed directly at meand sang a verse of a song) or nodded and I know that the human acknowledgement is worth more than the monitary payment for that evening (not really but it does mean something). Tonight's got to be something nearing insane and right now they're just about hitting "Pure Mountain Angel" and their encore and the night's just getting started.
I recently watched a documentary on the early 1970s and the rise of the singer-songwriter movement in Los Angeles and have been listening to much of that great music. For the last week I've been spinning (mainly) nothing but Jackson Browne, Linda Rondstadt, early Eagles, Bonnie Raitt, Tom Waits and the other bands of that era that have created that laid-back, solid and emotionally-deep music. As I've always known, I'm glad I actually didn't experience that time or I'd probably be dead. That more of those artists are still living is a testament to human physiology. Of course, it's now so mythologized and yet I know the myth is much bigger than history and yet...even making down to the Troubadour once every month or so to view Kris or Elton or Steve Martin or James Taylor or Carol King or another piano- or guitar player with a unique sound and a song about their experience would have been amazing. Nowadays, I struggle to relate to a singer wailing or whining about how misunderstood they've been because they scream it or plow through the song without letting it breathe. For some reason, that group of musicians so long ago were able to tap into a vein of emotional music that resonates still. And yet why do people from four decades connect with me? Am I chasing after ghosts? What other windmills might there be?
So of course, I'm listening to my most recent scores: Bonnie Raitt - Sweet Forgiveness (1977), Steely Dan - Pretzel Logic (1974) and Neil Young's Live Rust (1979). Man, I sure missed an amazing decade. What are we living through now? An era dead of irony and humor and choking on sincerity and ernestness; slow your songs down, learn some new chords and stop wanting to be the Band or Led Zeppelin or Madonna. Turn off the television, discover the vinyl and learn to play in front of people and not the video camera on your dresser in order to figure out who and what you are and what you really want to say. Really...

Sweet God almighty, my thoughts have been with Japan. And yet, I can't watch the news as I don't want my kids to see. A time to give, give give.

I need to go to bed. After a great St. Patrick's Day (my children went searching for leprechauns and thought they found one!) I need some rest. May the rain continue to fall (cue every good song about precipitation falling from the sky, right?). More gibberish later in the week.