GenEc DVD Review

Sounds and Silence: Travels With Manfred Eicher” (ECM)

2012-02-09T16:29:00.000-08:00

For over forty years, Manfred Eicher has been one of the most heralded, most creative, and most fastidious of all record producers - fastidious in terms of the quality of the music he presents, and equally fastidious in the quality of sound he bestows upon his ;productions. An artist recording for Eicher’s ECM label knows he/she/they will be expected to make exceptionally fine music, and that his/her/their performances will be heard by the home listener to a degree which is as close to in-person perfection as a musician has a right to expect.

This nearly-90-minute documentary film allows us to watch Manfred Eicher at work, encompassing the major varieties of music issued by the ECM label - jazz (often, but hardly exclusively, European in artist origin and in style), classical, experimental world-music, and unclassifible. The film is both a visual and audio representation of Eicher’s accomplishments, presenting top international artists such as Estonian composer Arvo Part, Norwegian saxophonist Jan Garbarek, and Argentine bandoneon player Dino Saluzzi, to cite the best-known names here. We do not hear from such famed ECM artists as Keith Jarrett, Chick Corea, or Pat Metheny, which may disappoint a few people, but may be just as well. Too many big names might detract from the focus on the producer and his work.

Essentially, we see Eicher traveling to several different countries to supervise recording sessions, which are interspersed alongside interview segments with the artists participating in those sessions. We also get an occasional glimpse inside the ECM home offices in Germany. Rather than bogging down the proceedings with an unneeded narration droning on interminably, directors Peter Guyer and Norbert Wiedmer represent Eicher’s travels with views from airplane windows, lights on the highway, etc. We witness Eicher listening, directing, thinking. Listening and thinking may be nebulous activities to try to depict visually, but the directors have captured the sense that this is exactly what we are seeing. There is a great deal of presence to thew music in this film, as befits the subject. What’s more, the film is not afraid to lavish its subject with silence, or at least quietude, dimensions that Eicher’s productions have never been afraid to value alongside the sounds.

The interviewees are, of course, ready to sing their producer’s praises. But they also discuss his art as well as their own. Arvo Part tells us a record producer must not only know how to set up mics correctly, he also has to inspire the musicians. Italian reedman Gianluigi Trovesi, a new name to me, relates the backgrounds of his variegated compositions and collaborations in such a manner that I feel the need to sample more of his music. Saluzzi takes cellist Anya Eichner to meet a group of veteran tango musicians, and talks about music as communication. Oud player Anouar Brahem musically explores the borderline between Western and Middle Eastern music. All these insights tell us much about the music, the people who perform it, and the motives and methods of the man who channels it to the worldwide audience. There is one more scene which is a testament to Eicher’s exactitude and need to approach perfection - we watch a piano tuner working on a piano to be used in a Nik Batsch session. The message is simply - Manfred Eicher cares.

Bonus features include the trailer and A 6-1/2-minute music video for a 2007 piece by Manu Katche, called “Playground” - very nicely done, as you would expect.

“Fulanito: Greatest Video Hits” (Cutting Records)

2012-02-07T15:51:00.000-08:00

For those of you who may not follow developments in popular Latin music, Fulanito is a group of Dominican-Americans from New York who emerged in 1997 with a unique combination of the traditional and the up-to-date.

Their first hit - and to my mind, still their finest achievement - was a record called “Guallando”, which combined the older, accordion-driven style of Dominican merengue music known as perico ripiao with rap/hip-hop vocals. Merengue is known for its very speedy dance tempo and (originally) accordion and/or (in the more commercial merengue of recent decades) saxophone riffs that circle and swirl around the melody line. The band’s mash-up of not just merengue rhythms with hip-hop elements, but specifically accordion-led merengue was a stroke of genius which caught fire throughout the Latin music world and made them near-instant international superstars.

The music video for “Guallando” is here, along with a number of other videos by the group, culled from five CD’s recorded between 1997 and 2004. The group’s star began to fade around that time, but they have since returned to the spotlight, which no doubt encouraged the release of this collection. About half the songs feature the accordion, played usually by Arsenio de la Rosa (their original producer’s father), and those are among the most distinctive tracks heard here. Other songs employ elements of bachata, reggaeton, salsa, and other current Latin pop styles, all combined with both solo and interactive, call-and-response, group-rap, in a style that’s as fresh as it is lively.

As with so many music videos, there’s a lot of visual emphasis on sexy girls in bikinis, which many people may find off-putting. I notice that even my college-age students have tired of the amount of emphasis on physical attributes in music video, but Fulanito only occasionally cross the line into the sort of obscenity that has given music video a bad name. I would consider much of this as racy, rather than pornographic. The worst offender is “Take It Off”, the lyrics of which (In English) consist largely of a repetition of the title phrase, which becomes highly annoying before long. Many people may find the cock-fighting scene in “Pecho a Pechuga” more upsetting than the title, which is bad enough. On the other hand, “Asi Es Que Vivo Yo” is a rather imaginative production which seems to portray an Old West Medicine Show in a Dominican village setting - but don’t quote me on that; I could be misinterpreting!

The “play all” function plays the tracks in a different order from that printed on the case - the trackss from the “Remixes” CD come AFTER those from “Americanazao”, rather than the other way around. There are two bonus videos (which play immediately after the official twelve in “play all”), including a live version of “Guallando” and a special-effects English-language disco version of “Millenium Cookout”. In all, this is a lot of fun, taking into account the caveats mentioned previously.

Total time, including the bonus videos, is about 64 minutes.

“Troubadour Blues” (Tom Weber Films)

2012-01-31T16:37:00.000-08:00

It would be hard to make any statement to the effect that the singer-songwriter, offering original song material to the accompaniment of an acoustic guitar, has gone completely unnoticed by the commercial music industry. One need only drop such names as Bob Dylan, James Taylor, and Leonard Cohen, to name but a few who have risen from the ranks of the so-called “folkie” singer-songwriters to great mainstream success. But those few names that are known by the public at large are a vast minority. In a world dominated by rock, pop, hop-hop, and now dubstep, the modern-day singer-songwriter has become akin to a prophet crying out in the wilderness.

That’s what makes Tom Weber’s film, “Troubadour Blues” a much-needed corrective to mass media’s constant exaltation of the same old insubstantial, uninspiring commercial banalities constantly being exposed on radio and on t.v. competition programs. There are dozens of creative, highly skilled singer-songwriters who have something interesting to say and the ability to say it in a manner that has a great deal of meaning among those listeners open to receiving the message. These performers may be heard on the radio, true, but only if you know when and where to turn, to the “right” station. A few may occasionally pop up on television, but don’t hold your breath waiting to see them, because it doesn’t happen often.

“Troubadour Blues” is a documentary look at the singer-songwriter scene of the past decade. It is by no means an exhaustive study of the phenomenon. Many of the artists seen here in performance and/or in interviews - not everyone interviewed is given a performance spogtlight - have devoted regional followings, some are nationally known. They may be heralded in one area of the country, and completely obscure in others. There are many artists whom I might have expected to turn up here who are not mentioned at all, and a few who ARE here whose names I’ve never encountered.Thus is the nature of the world of the “contemporary-folk” or “Americana” artist, to name two appellations used to lump a diverse assemblage of artists into genres for more efficient marketing. One hears influences from folk, country, rock, blues, and the proverbial “much more”, yet they all share a common attribute, the necessity to make their living by traveling from town to town, playing small venues for nowhere near enough money. Weber’s choice of artists is by nature subjective, but there is not one artist here - borderline-famous or mostly unknown - who doesn’t deserve far more exposure than they have received in the past.

Weber devotes a considerable amount of space to his major “case study” (yes, it’s a pun), Peter Case. Case, who grew up in Hamburg, NY (not all that far from GenEc’s “offices” here in Fredonia), was at one time a rock star, with the Nerves and the Plimsouls. But he chose to “downsize” his career into becoming a solo artist, with or without additional musicians. Early in the film, there is a striking collage of Case singing the same song in many places over a period of time, making it seem fresh for every new audience, despite the rigors of the road. (Case suffered serious heart problems during the time was being made, but is back on the road. Indeed, as I write this, there’s a report of a Nerves “reunion” making the rounds, albeit not the entire band.) The other “rock star” name here is Dave Alvin, who achieved cult status with the Blasters and X before turning toward a more folk/Americana direction. We also hear from Slaid Cleaves, Gurf Morlix, Amy Speace, to name a few of the more widely-known artists. Tracy Grammer is here, with a short memorial tribute to her old partner, Dave Carter, another victim of the hard life independent musicians must endure.

There is a lot to enjoy musically. There is much to learn from the interviews, so that fans of this particular sub-class of music will find this an essential addition to their DVD collections. But with any luck, this disc will reach far beyond the already-committed singer-songwriter audience, to let even those people who may be unfamiliar with ANY of the artists in this film know that there is something very worthwhile, very aesthetically satisfying going on in an underground of sorts that has difficulty attracting large numbers of new listeners. I certainly hope “Troubadour Blues” manages to reach that larger audience, and that the artists in the film can open many new doors as a result.

There are no extra bonus features on this disc. But the DVD case lists this as a 91-minute film. Actually, if you count the credits at the end - which most films do - it’s more like 95 minutes. In an era when some commercial DVD companies have taken to adding the total time including bonus features, trailers, photo galleries, and whatnot into the running time of the disc, I find Weber’s under-statement refreshing.

The film has its own website - http://www.troubadour-blues.com/

Classic Motown Performances on the Ed Sullivan Show - 3 separate DVD’s (SOFA Entertainment)

2012-01-22T16:44:00.000-08:00

For those of you who are too young to remember the Ed Sullivan Show, which ran on the CBS television network from 1948 to 1971, it was a variety program very much unlike the competition-style variety shows on-air today (and that means you, “America’s Got Talent”). Rather than present amateur or entry-level pro talent hoping to make it big, which is the raison d’etre of current music and dance shows on t.v., the Ed Sullivan Show featured the very finest and most popular performers of the day - in music, dance, comedy, puppets, vaudeville-style specialty acts (jumping dogs, plate spinners, and a host of etceteras) - you name it, Sullivan had it. To be sure, Sullivan was the quirkiest t.v. host you could imagine, with a tendency to start mumbling if he had to say more than a couple sentences, frequent mispronunciations ans scrambled names (as when he introduced Tommy James as “Tony Jones”) , and a variety of facial expressions and distinctive body movements that made him an easy target for impressionists looking for a celebrity to mock. But darned if he didn’t present some of the finest pop music on the airwaves, during an era rich with music shows featuring top-drawer professional talent. Would we had someone like him today. Television really WAS better when I was a kid!!

Which brings us to three new DVD’s (actually four, as the anthology has two discs) devoted to Sullivan appearances by some of Motown’s finest artists during that fabled label’s Golden Era. We’ll start with the various-artists set, ”Motown Gold From The Ed Sullivan Show”. This set consists of three “volumes” of 40 minutes each, with Vols. l and 2 on the first disc, and Vol. 3 on the other DVD. (One wonders if these had originally been released separately on three discs or three VHS tapes.) It’s fascinating to watch the Supremes, the Temptations, the Four Tops, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, Gladys Knight and the Pips, all in their prime all these years later. And, given all we know - from the highest highs to the tragic lows - about what happened to Michael Jackson in his subsequent solo career and off=stage foibles, it’s refreshing to see young Michael and his Jackson 5 siblings so fresh, energetic, enthusiastic, and, um, “normal” at the beginning of their stardom.

There is a definite imbalance among the performers, whether due to perceived audience demand or availability of strong performances. But the Supremes and Temptations dominate the proceedings. We see two glimpses of Stevie Wonder, first as a 13-year-old boy genius, singing and playing up a storm on chromatic harmonica, plus a more mature Stevie on “For Once In My Life”. But Wonder’s finest hours post-dated the Sullivan Show. Marvin Gaye has one, only one selection, and that’s not even of one of his better-remembered songs (“Take This Heart Of Mine”, only a #44 hit) - BUT this was Gaye’s ONLY appearance on the Ed Sullivan show, for reasons I don’t know. Likewise Martha and the Vandellas are here only once, looking splendid for “Dancing In the Street”. But we must be thankful for what we do have here. There are no selections at all by the Marvelettes, Isley Brothers, or Jr. Walker - I can’t recall after all these years if any of them ever appeared on Ed Sullivan or not.

For the most part, Sullivan allowed his guests to shine without undue interference. They sang, they danced (Motown was very careful to school their artists into being all-around entertainers, not simply singers who stood rock-still around microphones), they dressed well, they were presented in a attractive surroundings, their orchestrations were professionally handled. There were no “Shindig”-style go-go-girls, half-naked models, or embarrassing attempts at singing songs totally unsuited to them. Yes, there are times when Motown’s finest sang covers of other people’s hits and/or jazzy, nightclub-pop songs instead of “The Sound of Young America” - the Four Tops do it twice here - but that was also part of Motown’s concept of grooming artists for what they hoped would be long-term careers. So these atypical songs were not removed from what these artists might do in a nightclub situation removed from their usual Funk Brothers backing. There’s just so much good stuff here, I can’t imagine any fan of Motown, of 60’s music in general, heck, of music period being disappointed by this set.

If you’re looking for individual artists instead of an anthology, SOFA has at least two DVD’s by classic Motown groups, though there is a great deal of overlap between these individual discs and the above set (plus some material that appears on the individual discs and not in the set).. “The Best Of The Supremes On The Ed Sullivan Show” not only contains strong performances by three editions of the trio, it shows the original line-up of Diana/Mary/Flo assuming a variety of identities. Unfortunately, it’s not presented in strict chronoloigcal order (the key word being “strict”; it does, however, appear to be arranged in early-to-late order; the clips are undated), but the changes the group underwent through the mid-to-late 1960’s are quite visible.

We start in 1964 with “Come See About Me” in black-and-white. (Subsequent clips are all in color.) All three large-haired singers are crowded together as a unit, with Diana’s big eyes and infectious grin showing an innocent delight in getting their big break in the national spotlight. All three seem a bit uneasy, as if their fabled lessons in dance and deportment hadn’t quite taken hold yet. By the time of the second clip., “You Can’t Hurry Love”, from 1966, the hair has been re-styled, eye makeup has been slathered on injudiciously, the wardrobe seriously upgraded, and - most telling of all - Diana Ross has been separated from Mary and Flo, less a unit than a star with backup singers. The grueling dance lessons pay off in “Love Is Like An Itching In My Heart” (also released in 1966), as this is Flo Ballard and Mary Wilson’s most significant contribution to the performance seen here. By the time of “The Happening”, 1967, Florence Ballard seems pushed even further into the background.

The move away from the Sound Of Young America to a more polished pop identity in the trio’s nightclub engagements (a move which eventually paid off in Diana Ross’ solo career) is represented in the lushly-orchestrated swing-waltz version of “My Favorite Things”. (Speaking of orchestration, I’m thinking Motown’s touring-unit musicians are absent from these Sullivan shows; backing was probably supplied by Sullivan’s regular bandleader, Ray Bloch.) Pop becomes increasingly prevalent, including an uncharacteristic version of “More”, which begins with unison trio vocals. Flo and Mary show themselves to be much more graceful than Diana in a brief dance sequence. Irving Berlin’s “Always” starts out as pure supper-club, before an ill-fated decision to add a hipper, more “contemporary” uptempo beat to it.

Changing fashion finds the Supremes sporting Afro wigs and wearing a ghetto-chic wardrobe for “Love Child”. Flo Ballard is gone, replaced by Cindy Birdsong. One of this second edition Supremes’ last performances on the Sullivan Show, “No Matter What Sign You Are” (an only-modest hit from 1969), finds them in stunning colorful, loose-fitting,reflective, glitter-laden gowns that are far more striking than the cliche-filled, asgrology-themed song. The glitter returns on more conservative dresses for one of the group’s less well-remembered gems, “Forever Came Today” (1968), but the backing vocals by Mary and Cindy are almost hidden.

Regardless of staging, wardrobe, hair-do’s, choreography, and all the other changes from clip to clip, the performances are generally first-rate throughout. The one disappointment is a medley of ultra-short snippets of their greatest hits. Indeed, the excerpts are so short and go by so quickly that there is an occasional bit of confusion by the trio. Bit it \’s nice to watch Diana, Mary and Flo interacting as they do here.

Ed Sullivan was, in retropsect, an enigmatic television host, without charisma, polished delivery, or apparent talent other than supervising a consistently entertaining collection of diverse acts from week to week. His interviewing skills would often leave his guests bewildered. At one point, he introduces the Supremes as three girls from three different states, to which Diana has to point out that they are all from Detroit. In another clip, the perennially befuddled Sullivan tries to get in on the act by adding a bit of comic dialog and even singing briefly, leaving the viewer wondering why. But we watched him faithfully every week; to those of us who grew up watching him, he remains a cultural touchstone.

The program itself is 41 minutes long, but there is a welcome bonus song at the end - “Up The Ladder To The Roof”, the 1970 Top 10 debut of the post-Diana Supremes, featuring Jean Terrell as lead singer. Based on this opening success, the future looked very bright. But within two years, the hits began to dry up. But the highlights of the Supremes’ golden era, as captured on the Ed Sullivan Show, are a testament to one of the greatest singing groups ever. Highly recommended, whether you want to analyze, or simply enjoy.

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The Temptations’ career was also dogged by a variety of soap-opera-like incidents, if the much-debated late 90’s mini-series (based on a book by Otis Williams, the last remaining original Tempt still alive, who is still singing with the group) is to be believed. But the Tempts’ problems were never as public as those of the Supremes, so it’s not as much of a game to try to read things into the performances on “The Best Of The Temptations On The Ed Sullivan Show”. Better to just sit back and enjoy!

This DVD includes both the “David Ruffin Temptations”, so to speak, and the “Dennis Exdwards Temptations”, though of course the group was much more eager to spread lead-vocal chores around than the Supremes ever were. Oddly enough, the earliest performances seem rather tentative, Ruffin in particular seeming much more under wraps than one would guess from his soulful singing on the corresponding records. But Eddie Kendricks and the choreography combine to rescue them. Thank goodness, Ruffin’s jitters - if that’s what the problem was - settled down on later Sullivan appearances. No such problem with Dennis Edwards, however, who is consistently emotional and professional at all times.

One of the definite highlights of the disc is a “duet” (if you can consider eight people in two separate groupings a “duet”!) with the Supremes, singing each other’s hits. Diana Ross sounds especially fine on “My Guy” (i.e., “My Girl”), while Ruffin comes to life on “Stop! In The Name Of Love”. Ross and Ruffin share “I’m Losing You,” which includes some energetic dancing by all eight.

“Runaway Child Running Wild” has some clever stasging, while “Psychedelic Shack” has some unusual visual effects. (Sullivan calls U.S. Congressman John Conyers to the stage at the end of “Shack”, as he had just honored the Temptations in the Congressional Records.) Eddie Kendricks is especially mellow on “Just My Imagination”, which the group uncharacteristically sings while sitting down. It’s to the credit of the Sullivan Show’s production staff that they could continue to come up with new ways of showcasing groups who appeared on the program multiple times.

The most unexpected example of that phenomenon may be a pop version of “You’ve Made Me So Very Happy” (not usually thought of as a Motown song even though it was co-written and originally recorded by Motown artist Brenda Holloway). The Tempts sing to, then dance with five beautifully dressed female dancers, in a style suited to a number of other variety shows but not often seen on Sullivan. It’s a very entertaining segment, choreographed by Louis Johnson of “The Wiz” fame. The Temptations were always one of the most versatile of all Motown groups, as witnessed by their many stylistic changes throughout the years (and notable here). So it’s not surprising that a medley of “Ain’t No Mountain High enough” and “My Sweet Lord”, done in a nightclub style, works as well as it does, even though the Tempts fail to put their own identifiable stamp on the tunes.

The body of the program lasts a somewhat scanty 35 minutes, but there are two bonus clips, both in the Copa vein - a jazzy, finger-snapping “Hello Young Lovers” (from the Ruffin era, sung primarily in unison), and a bossa nova-tinged “Autumn Leaves” (from the Edwards period). Both are well worth including, to round out this glimpse of the most beloved American group vocal groups in their prime (no pun intended).

If you buy the individual discs, you will already own a sizeable chunk of the anthology. It’s up to the individual purchaser to decide if you want to concentrate on particular artists or the overview.

http://www.EdSullivan.com
http://www.facebook.com/EdSullivanShow
https://twitter.com/#!/EdSullivanShow
http://www.youtube.com/user/TheEdSullivanShow

“Celtic Angels at Christmas” (Newvideo)/”Celtic Crossroads: World Fusion” (DPTV)

2011-12-15T16:17:00.000-08:00

It’s that time of year, when I make my seasonal-music DVD recommendation for last-minute shoppers, perhaps looking for something special for the somewhat older member of the family. (Of course, you may feel free to buy it for yourself as well.). Last year, it was Andy Williams, this year it’s a marvelous collection of smooth Celtic Christmas music from the heavily Scottish island of Cape Breton, off the coast of Nova Scotia in the Maritime region of eastern Canada.

The Celtic Angels are not so much a “band”, as they are an ensemble of six women (including four from Nova Scotia, one from Prince Edward Island, and one from and island in the Outer Hebrides of Scotland),. who perform solo and in small groupings, never all six at one time. The Angels perform on harp and fiddle as well as vocals, and are backed by a handful of (male) musicians on guitars and keyboards. The mood is very placid and peaceful, even on uptempo tunes, the performances polished to a very fine sheen. Even so, there is a lot of the Celtic tradition and of the earth in these moving renditions of centuries-old songs.

The tunes in this American release of a Canadian television special include several tunes that will be familiar to everyone - “Ave Maria” played by fiddler Gillian Boucher, “O Holy Night” by Kendra MacGillivray, ”The Holly and the Ivy” sung by Patricia Murray, and a bilingual (English and Gaelic) interpretation of “Silent Night”. “Winter Wonderland” is notable for the graceful step-dancing of Sabra MacGillivray and a few talented children, while Boucher ends the program by combining “It Came Upon A Midnight Clear” with an Irish jig.

But rather than simply perform the old popular favorites, the Angels also delve into the traditional folk repertoire. Cape Breton singer Stephanie Hardy opens the proceedings with “The Holly Bears & Berry”. Murray gives us the beloved Irish “Wexford Carol”, while Hardy travels south to Appalachia for an uncharacteristically perky reading of John Jacob Niles’ “I Wonder As I Wonder”. There are spirited fiddle tunes both by the MacGillivrays and by Gillian Boucher. But the finest selections of all may be the Gaelic hymns sung in the old tongue by the classic Scottish singer Maggie MacInnes (daughter of the acclaimed traditional singer Flora MacNeil), to her own accompaniment on the clarsach (Celtic harp).

There’s hardly a misstep to be found in any of the arrangements. The production is an ode to the effectiveness of simplicity - nothing fancy, nothing extraneous, hardly anything in the way of sets or visual hooks, nothing to detract from the music itself. There are short spoken introductions to put the songs into a context, but these are helpful rather than intrusive.

At only 48 minutes, the performance is rather short, no doubt a length dictated by the absence of commercials, which would have stretched this to fit an hour-long t.v. time-slot. (The commercials are far from missed!) But the 48 minutes are jam-packed with fine music, lovingly performed. I notice Amazon is selling this for less than $12, so the short length seems reasonable enough. A very nice addition to the growing catalog of Christmas music on DVD.
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The DVD by Celtic Crossroads is not a seasonal disc by any means, but would doubtless make a greatly appreciated gift for the Irish-music lover on your gift list. Where the Celtic Angels aim for serenity, the 9-member Celtic Crossroads touring ensemble (seven musicians/singers playing over twenty instruments, plus two dancers) heads in the direction of visceral excitement. Both groups do a fine job of representing Celtic traditions (Irish in the case of Crossroads); the choice will depend on which mood you’re in at the moment.

The performers on this PBS special are all young in years (most look to be in their 20’s), but with a solid awareness of traditional Irish music and the history behind it. But they also like to add contemporary elements into the mix. For the most part, the ensemble sound has audible origins in the small group; of neo-traditionalists who popularized the old dance, air, and ballad repertoire during the 1970’s, bands such as De Danann, Planxty, and the Bothy Band. Like those iconic bands, Celtic Crossroads features the “classic” melodic instruments, such as fiddles, uillean pipes, wooden flute, tenor banjo, and accordion, adding a Celtic harp to conjure up comparisons to the Chieftains. But - also like the neo-traditional bands just mentioned, they add strong, rock-tinged accompaniment on acoustic guitar, bouzoukee, mandolin, and mandola, instruments rarely encountered in more rigorous performances by the hardest-core traditionalists.

They also essay some strictly contemporary songs - Andy Briggs’ “Last of the Great Whales”, Americana songwriter Steve Earle’s “Galway Girl” (which, to be sure, sounds as Irish as an Americana song possibly can), and - the most radical choice of all, “U2’s “With Or Without You”. But before you get to thinking they’ve jumped the shark with that last selection, I quickly point out that it’s given a lush, lyric-ballad treatment built around Celtic harp and flute (plus folk-style vocal). Viewers of all ages - and the live-concert audience skews toward gray - should be able to easily tolerate, even enjoy it. The title of the concert, “World Fusion”, is a reference to the fact that the group also performs some distinctly non-Irish pieces, such as Italian composer Vittorio Monti’s famous violin piece, “Czardas”, written in the style of Hungarian gypsy music; a medley of US fiddle favorites, “Cotton-Eyed Joe” and “Orange Blossom Special”; and a piece curiously entitled “Cajun Blues”, which doesn’t sound especially Cajun to me, perhaps because it’s played on the tenor banjo. These non-Irish pieces are played with a showier, virtuosity-for-virtuosity’s sake abandon, less controlled than the pieces from their own tradition, but are entertaining as showpieces nonetheless. (When I say “their own tradition”, let me not overlook the fact that there’s an American and a Norwegian in the line-up.)

What separates Celtic Crossroads from other neo-traditional bands is the excellence of the dancing. Dancers Marcus Donnelly (who shows his agility on an old “brush dance” or “broom dance”, in which he dances with and around a broom) and Charlene Morrison are championship caliber, thus helping to make the Celtic Crossroads show a “complete package”. The singing is fine, the musicianship is intelligent - as a former bodhran player, I particularly appreciate Diarmid Hurley’s skill and inventiveness on the goat-frame drum - the arrangements true to their roots. It’s the “real deal”, for sure, but it’s a contemporary version of the real deal, not a preserved museum piece.

The concert itself lasts about 80 minutes. There is also a bonus feature in which the producers of the entourage talk bout the background of the show and its participants. Newcomers to Irish music, in particular, may learn quite a bit, while I found it held considerable interest throughout its 23-minute length. The sponsor of the concert and disc, Tourism Ireland, has appended three short promotional travelog segments plus a few seconds of several other promotional more clips, presented in such an ingratiating manner that one almost forgets one is looking at a commercial.

Relevant websites are http://www.newvideo.com and http://www.dptvmedia.org

“Afro-Latino Music” (Facets/ArtMattan Productions; 2 DVD’s)

2011-11-23T16:20:00.000-08:00

The first thing that needs to be pointed out is that “Afro-Latino Music” is not an overview of the entire subject of Afro-Latino music, nor does it claim to be. It would doubtless take many, many more than 2 DVD’s to do justice to a topic that broad. What this is, however, is a set of two discs comprising two very fine films on very specific topics within the overall category of Afro-Latino (specifically Afro-South American) music, one on a Colombian phenomenon originally known as Terapia Criolla, but now more often referred to as champeta, the other on the Peruvian percussionist Chocolate Algendones.

The first film, “Sons Of Bemkos” - the title refers to an African King who was forced into slavery in Colombia; he escaped and founded the “first free town in America”, Palenque, in and near which much of the film was shot - looks at a couple aspects of African-rooted music located along the Caribbean coast of Colombia. Thus, the marimba-based music known as currulao is not covered, since that genre is centered on the Pacific coast of Colombia. In both cases, however, we are confronted with a musical tradition that is very deeply rooted in Africa, owing relatively little to the Spanish colonists of Colombia.

Interestingly, this description fits not only the traditional music of the area, but its contemporary pop form as well, about which more below. The traditional village music has a very deep African flavor. We see workers in the fields singing work songs to pass the time. A group of professional mourners known as “Happy Ambulances” help a corpse on its way by singing, dancing, and drumming over it, as part of a ritual based on the spirit religion known as lumbalu. (A warning for the squeamish - the actual corpse is on-screen for an extended period.) Small ensembles are shown consisting entirely of voices backed by percussion instruments - drums, scrapers, maracas, claves, and the giant bass thumb piano known as the marimbula. These scenes of a local music little known to the outside would alone justify multiple viewings of this film.

But the filmmakers have another surprise up their sleeve. For many years, the popular sounds of this area long included merengue, salsa, and the whole gamut of Afro-Caribbean styles. However, in a phenomenon not known (by me, at least) to have occurred elsewhere in Afro-Latino musical circles, the musicians of the nearest large city, Cartagena, began to alter their music under the influence of recordings of soukous and other African dance music imported from the Congo. Similarly, the local music known as bullerengue also began to be combined with mbaqanga music from South Africa. The musicians of the area re-Africanized their popular music to such an extent that someone hearing this music - Terapia Criolla (“Creole Therapy”) or champeta - for the first time, watching people dance to it as it booms from the speakers of a mobile sound system, might well question which continent’s music one is hearing.

The film introduces us to the Caribbean Stars, who claim to have been the first to play terapia. The band toured internationally at one time, but feels most comfortable around Palenque. We also see the beginnings of the commercial exploitation of champeta, as record companies attempt to operate as inexpensively as possible by bringing into the studios raw talent off the streets to sing about the everyday life of poor people, to the beat of Congolese rhythms.

We also see excerpts from the San Basilio Festival, a patronal festival held every June 12, a 3-day reunion of Palenqueans past and present. We see Cuban -influenced music played for a Roman Catholic church service, as well as a procession with a small version of the ubiquitous Latin American brass band. It makes for a fascinating contrast to the lumbalu and champeta scenes, and is every bit as authentic.

“Sons of Bemkos” has an English narration, with subtitles for the interviews, which are in Spanish. The running time is 52 minutes.

The second film, “Hands Of God”, focuses on a specific musician, a musical icon in his own country but little-known to Americans, percussionist Julio “Chocolate” Algendones (1937-2004; some sources say 1934). But it also serves to introduce Americans to a musical scene most of us either only recently became aware of or have yet to discover - that of Afro-Peruvian music. Those of us of a certain age have become so used to the “Andean ensembles” playing huaynos on instruments such as the quena, zampona, and charango that we’ve come to think of them as representing ALL of Peruvian music. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Jazz fans have begun to discover Afro-Peruvian rhythms such as the festejo and lando, thanks in part to singer Susana Baca. And it would appear from this film that Afro-Peruvian rhythms and jazz have a close and comfortable relationship in Peru as well, judging from Chocolate’s performances with the combo Peru Jazz and in back of the singing of a number of guest artists in this film, such as Jose “Chaqueta” Piaggio and Pepita Garcia Miro. Chocolate was skilled and sensitive to easily travel between the worlds of tradition and contemporary music.

But the Afro-rooted traditions Algendones explored were not solely Peruvian. He was a master of both the congas and bongos, both associated with Caribbean music, and claims to have picked up a knowledge of the intense rhythms of santeria while on tour in Haiti. (I confess I had to do a bit of research on this point. My impression was that the Yoruba-rooted spirit religion known as santeria (or lucumi) was found in the Spanish Caribbean, specifically Cuba and Puerto Rico. Most of the sources I checked seemed to confirm that there was no santeria in Haiti. I was beginning to wonder if Algendones was confusing Cuban santeria with Fon/Ewe-rooted Haitian voodoo. Digging deeper, however, I find there are a few online sources that would seem to confirm the contention that santeria does indeed exist in Haiti.) Algendones is considered to have been the only Afrfo-Peruvian musician to utilize santeria rhythms in his music, which he did with authenticity and artistic authority.

But Chocolate’s primary instrument was the cajon, that increasingly-familiar wooden box which percussionists sit on, pounding our rhythms on the front of the instrument. Cubans sometimes claim the cajon as their own, and indeed many Cubans have mastered the deceptively simple-looking instrument. However, most sources that I’ve come across are quick to credit Peru as the true origin point of the cajon. Certainly, a concept as elemental as banging out a rhythm on a fruit crate or shipping box could well have developed independently in two different places. But at the very least, the cajon has achieved a position of prominence in Peru far beyond its role in Cuban music. It’s a treat to watch Algendones play the cajon, as he doesn’t pound on it as so many lesser drummers do, but deftly manipulates it with his powerful fingertips.

Jose “Chocolate” Algendones was such a unique percussionist, from the cross-cultural way in which he combined various rhythms into a fully-formed and unique style, to the seemingly casual ease of his complex performance technique, that we are indeed very fortunate to have this audio-visual documentation of his playing in a wide variety of contexts. There is no narration per se, but the interviews are in Spanish, with easily readable English subtitles. Running time is 54 minutes.

Both of these films are required viewing for anyone interested in African-rooted musics in South America and should have as much appeal to just plain fans as to scholars. More info may be found at http://www.AfricanDisaporaDVD.com

“Bryan Beller: Wednesday Night Live” (Onion Boy Records)

2011-11-21T15:31:00.000-08:00

For those of you don’t follow contemporary instrumental music closely (alas, that would seem to include the great majority of people under 35), and may not know who Bryan Beller is, he is one monster of an electric bass player, best-known for his work with Steve Vai. This point is driven home by the audio mix of this DVD, which allows the bass lines to burrow deep inside of you, grab hold of your viscera, and refuse to let you go.

This alone might serve as recommendation enough for some of you, but the rest of the band is worth making a fuss over as well. This is one inventive quintet, not just a super bass player with four other guys. Guitarists Griff Peters and Rick Musallam (each of whom plays lead on particular types of songs), keyboardist Mike Keneally (who also picks up a guitar), and drummer Joe Travers make up the rest of this finely-honed unit. It quickly becomes clear that these are musicians who work together a lot, and have done so for quite some time. Indeed, this is not just Bryan Beller’s band, it is also Mike Keneally’s band, and the two have been known to play together at the same place on the same night.

Stylistically, I would call this jazz-rock fusion from the rock point of view, more compositional and structural than flights-of-fancy improvisational., though there’s still quite a bit of spontaneity to it. Although the band’s sound does tend to be a bit bass-centric, the other players certainly get ample opportunity to show up their prodigious chops as well as their creativity, interacting with each other with taste and a great deal of respect. The music is erudite without being pedantic or sterile, engaging the listeners’ emotions as well as the mind. It is,m after all, entertainment, not just a lesson in technique.

With the emphasis being on musicianship rather than showmanship, the camera work is crucial to keeping the viewer’s interest up throughout. We see five musicians and their equipment crowded together on a rather small stage, but the multi-camera set-up and sensitiive direction (by Dave Foster) keep it from ever becoming claustrophobic.

In addition to the top-notch main concert, the DVD is rich in bonus footage, which must double the length of the disc. There are performances featuring other editions of Beller’s band, with slight, but significant personnel changes, a jazz-flavored tune with Beller on piano, a guest appearance by saxophonist Scheila Gonzalez, videos of performances filmed at CD release parties, and other musical clips, both video and audio-only. There are also substantial interviews with.each of the current members of the quintet to help place the music in perspective. If that’s enough, Beller has supplied “very, very extended liner notes” at http://www.bryanbeller.com/cms/index.php?page=soloalbums_wnllinernotes
(This is an instrumental musician who loves to write words as well as music, judging by the amount oif verbiage to be found on his website, http://www.bryanbeller.com/cms/ )

Well worth checking out by fusion fans, prog-rockers, and just plain music lovers.

“Stylistics Live In Norfolk 2005” and “Chi-Lites Live In Norfolk 2005” (both from San Juan Music)

2011-11-12T15:33:00.000-08:00

These two concert DVD’s by classic 70’s soul-ballad groups seem to have been around for a few years under different titles - in both cases, “Live At The Convocation Center”, named for the Norfolk, VA venue where these performances were both filmed. Both discs, however, are deserving of reissue.

Of the two, I personally prefer the Styllstics concert, which by no means is intended to denigrate the Chi-Lites’ disc. I happened to see this line-up of the Stylistics about 10 years ago, at Shea’s in Buffalo (on the same bill with The Main Ingredient and Blue Magic), soon after Harold Eban Brown replaced the seemingly irreplaceable Russell Thompkins, Jr. as lead singer. I swear most members of the audience probably had no idea whatsoever that Thompkins was missing, Brown sounds so much like him. One look from the front of the balcony, however, told me that either Thompkins had discovered the Fountain of Youth (Brown is over twenty years younger than Thompkins), or the group had discovered an absolutely ideal new lead voice.

The group, resplendent in red suits, was already in their 50’s by 2005, aside from the then-33-year-old Brown. But if they move a little less athletically than they might have in younger years, they sound just fine. Their smooth ballad style was never really suited to a shake-’em-up-and-down stage show anyway. It’s obvious from the intro to “You’re A Big Girl Now” that they (realistically) now think of themselves less as a current group than as finely-honed purveyors of nostalgia. Indeed, there is something about the atmosphere of this concert - perhaps it’s the audience - that is oddly reminiscent of a PBS “oldies” fundraising special. (I almost hesitate to say that, because when PBS DID bring on a rival Stylistics group, it turned out to be Russell Thompkins’ Jr.’s “New Stylistics”.) The “real” Stylistics still had the skills in 2005, no doubt, but certainly the audience wanted to hear the groups’ hits of the 1970’s performed by the original group (or at least a quartet which had an unbroken continuity dating back to their Golden Era) in the original arrangements. And that’s what they get.

In any event, the Stylistics remain a living entity, not simply a group of aging singers going through the motions. They always were a group whose identity was heavily dependent on the timbre of their falsetto lead vocals. In this department, Harold Eban Brown is virtually the equivalent of Russell Thompkins, Jr. All the songs you might wish to hear at a Stylistics’ concert - both the super-hits and the lesser successes - are here, in well-executed arrangements that are essentially smaller-scale, stripped-down, but easily recognizable versions of the original Thom Bell-produced Philly Soul backing tracks. The songs tend to segue one to the other in a sort-of medley form, yet most are done at full-length, not the “and then we did” tiny snippets some “nostalgia acts” prefer.

Brown is not the most captivating front man, but hIs voice more than makes up what he may lack in charisma. I would suggest that any Stylistics fans would find this concert every bit as satisfying as I did. There is no wasted time, no frills, no bad-joke-filled attempts at humor (okay, one modest attempt), just 57 minutes of Stylistics’ sweet-soul music. That should be good enough for anyone.

Bonus features include a 4-minute ”Behind The Scenes” featurette, showing how the concert was set up, as well as a 5-1/2-minute interview segment.

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The Chi-Lites’ DVD follows the same basic format, and indeed appears to have been filmed at the same package-tour concert in Norfolk.

Once again, we are treated to straightforward renditions of the group’s hits, accompanied by a solid band. The differences between the two concerts, though, are telling. For one thing, the Chi-Lites are less dependent on a single dominant personality. They require strong lead vocals by all three up-front members and, with a few jarring exceptions, they deliver. Their stage act features more razzle-dazzle than that of the Stylistics. Whereas thje latter prefer to soothe their audience, the Chi-Lites’ attempt to rouse theirs, even in a ballad medley.

The Chi-Lites charted often between 1969 and 1984, and scraped the bottom of the charts again in 1997-98. Nevertheless, the group’s hits seem by and large to have received less continued exposure through the years than the Stylistics’ songs. I may be wrong, but I’m inclined to think that, only “Oh Girl” and “Have You Seen Her (which are saved for the end of the show) may resonate with the casual listener. But songs like “Toby” and “The Coldest Days Of My Life” definitely deserve their return to the nostalgia spotlight.

Though we only see three Chi-Lites upfront, the harmonies are enhanced by a fourth vocalist, a woman who stands in the background as if she were not an official member of the established all-male lineup. But a little research reveals she is indeed an “official member”; must be a macho image thing. Sadly, most of the original Chi-Lites’ line-up (including Eugene Record) are now deceased, but Marshall Thompson and Robert “Squirrel” Lester” (since deceased as well) appear on this disc.

The bonus features mirror those of the Stylistic disc. Indeed, the backstage set-up featurette looks very much like that on the Stylistics’ DVD, understandable when you consider they were recorded at the same place at the same time. Again,. there are interview excerpts in which the group talks about their biggest hits.

Anyone with a live for sweet 70’s soul vocal groups should have a marvelous time turning back the clock and tossing out the calendar, while watching these two fine concerts.

“Live From Tokyo” (MVD)

2011-11-01T16:46:00.000-07:00

Contemporary Japanese popular music, if known to most Americans at all, is associated with teen-girl-sounding J-pop, boy bands, Visual Kei arena-rock/hair-metal bands, and so on. And certainly that imaged is by no means totally inaccurate, it is simply very incomplete. “Live From Tokyo” is a fascinating documentary look at the ”underground” side of modern Japanese music, featuring clips of and interviews with a lot of people you’ve never heard of, but whose musical acquaintance is well worth making.

The point is made by a number of interviewees that young Japanese people are bombarded with information and influences - aren’t we all? - which then come together in a wide variety of unexpected ways, from J-pop on one hand to various sorts of progressive/experimental sounds. The latter, rather than J-pop, are the focus of this film. The problem is that there are so many bands in a shrinking scene that no one is being financially rewarded the way they used to be. One could make the same observation about progressive music anywhere, to be sure. But at least the Japanese musicians have apparently decided that since they’re not going to become wealthy anyway, they may as well do what they want to do, in the way they want to do it. Thus, the lack of monetary enticements has made for a scene that is very healthy from a purely artistic viewpoint, resulting in fresh, new sounds far from the pop-music norm.

We get to sample a goodly number of these artists and hear a wide array of styles, most arising out of recognizable starting points, ranging from post-punk rock to jazz-rock fusions, which then head off in highly individual directions. These bands thrive on the Internet, where they have no need to wait to be “discovered”, no need to wait for a record contract. Instead, they can quickly and inexpensively disseminate their music far and wide.Thus, while the mainstream record industry continues to recycle the same few sounds over and over again, the Japanese underground bands can dare to be daring.

There’s a lot of fascinating music heard in this DVD, much of it utilizing machine-like repetition in a techno sort of way; not surprising for a country heralded for its technical know-how. There is also a considerable reliance on visuals interacting with music as an integral part of some of the stage shows shown here. It is worth noting that there is no narrator to set up contexts for the music,or to tell us what we will be hearing. This may well the ideal way to produce a film of this sort, as the viewer may experience each new band without having ready-made expectations set up before. We thus approach this music in a tabula-rasa manner, and can judge it on its own terms.

We are also given insight into the Japanese way of presenting live music. Japanese live bands are required to pay the club-owners in advance, then sell the tickets themselves. This, of course, negatively impacts many artists, as they need to attract a sizable following on a steady basis in order to simply survive. Ticket prices tend to be high - it can cost $25-$30 to go see a band no one has ever heard of. Thus, while there is no pressure to make commercial music that will sell to the masses, it is also difficult for bands to stay together long enough to reach their full artistic potential. A couple venues are profiled in some depth. However, these cannot be considered typical, as their colorful owners seem much more open than most, and less profit-motivated.

In all, this 78-minute film is an eye-opening - and generally quite ear-satisfying - glimpse at a scene most of us know nothing about, featuring many creative musicians most of us will never get a chance to hear otherwise. As such, I recommend it highly.

“B.B. King Live” (Image Entertainment)

2011-09-26T16:43:00.000-07:00

Ten days ago, Mr. Riley B. “Blues Boy” celebrated his 86th birthday. He’s elderly, he’s infirm, but darn it, he can still sing and play the blues on his electric guitar, “Lucille”, better than most folks a third of his age. Yes, he has understandably slowed down, and he has to sit throughout the proceedings - but then, the old pre-WW2 blues singers sat down when they played anyway. Even so, this concert from the PBS “Soundstage” series, filmed in 2009, certainly serves as a prime example of the Blues Boy in his late-in-life prime.

As a matter of fact, the opener, “Everyday I Have The Blues”, finds him virtually as energetic and soulful as ever. One should not expect innovation or fresh approaches at this late date - he has long since made his most impactful contributions. But this is not simply an elderly icon going through the motions, but a compelling performer and viable entertainer who can still summon up the old fire and put on one heckuva show for his fans.

The songs are largely familiar. However, the Blind Lemon Jefferson standard, “See That My Grave Is Kept Clean”, was a recent addition to the B.B. King repertoire at the time of this performance, having served as the de facto title song to his 2008 CD, “One Kind Favor”. Since it is no secret that Jefferson was a seminal influence on the young Riley King - a fact he has always acknowledged - it’s quite a treat to hear him adapt the old song to his big-band-blues format. What may seem another lesser-known title, “Downhearted”, is actually a re-titling of B.B.’s classic “How Blue Can You Get”, the stop-time bridge of which is always an audience favorite.

As is the case with so many televised specials featuring performers “of a certain age”, the producers have decided to sprinkle in guest performances by younger, non-blues performers who they no doubt feel will bring their fan bases to the table, thus increasing ratings. Frankly, I find that a deplorable practice, particularly when the older performer is as famous and still highly skilled as B.B. King. He simply doesn’t need them. But the truth is, fortunately they do not cause irreparable harm to the overall quality of the program.

In fact, actor Terrence Howard may actually add to it. He informally trades verses with “B” on “I Need You So”, acquitting himself surprisingly eell as a blues balladeer somewhat on the order of King’s erstwhile touring partner, Bobby Bland. Howard (who released a CD of his own in 2008) gets to sing most of “ I Got Some Help I Don’t Need” by himself, with B.B. and the band. Howard and King display a marvelous rapport during some in-song dialogue.

Less successful is Solange Knowles (Beyonce’s younger sister) who joins B.B. for an under-developed version of his signature hit, “The Thrill Is Gone”. I’d like to hear her do this song about ten years from now, but her voice doesn’t yet have enough of a lived-in quality, and she’s weak on top. Bon Jovi guitarist Richie Sambora (whose name King consistently mangles) tears off a few burning licks on “Nobody Loves Me But My Mother”, but B. is dissatisfied and switches to the uptempo “Let The Good Times Roll”. The two still fail to gel. The pairing works better when King reprises “the Thrill Is Gone,” this time handling the vocal chores himself, with Sambora playing an effective lead guitar.

B.B.’s band is fine throughout. They feature a full-bodied four-piece horn section that sounds like more. One does occasionally wish they were more prominent in the mix. The rhythm section cooks. B.B. and the band get into a downhome gospel groove on a rousing closer, yet another version of :”When The Saints Go Marching In”. And while I could happily live out my days without hearing that overworked song again, this group effort by B, Howard, Knowles, and Sambora is downright agreeable. It may not be the most important piece of art B.B. King has ever been involved with - “Live At The Regal” its not - but it will certainly set your toes to tapping.

In all, unless you are really turned off by the idea of B.B. King having to share the stage with guest artists (and I know for a fact some of you would be!), this is a very enjoyable hour with the Master.

“Cuba: Island of Music” (MVD)

2011-09-18T15:48:00.000-07:00

I confess to being somewhat ambivalent about this documentary on Cuban music from filmmaker Gary Keys (whose films on Duke Ellington, Count Basie, and Dizzy Gillespie were reviewed in this blog at http://genecdvd.blogspot.com/2011/09/duke-ellington-reminiscing-in.html

First, the good news. There is a lot of very good Cuban music here in a variety of genres, both traditional and contemporary. The visuals give us a rare glimpse of Cuba as it was at the end of the 20th century. There is also something of an alternative political viewpoint espoused here, in that we are given the distinct impression that people in Cuba during the late Castro era were really pretty happy with life, by and large (despite the nay-saying of American politicians with an agenda to support). And the commentary by Cuban natives Chico O’Farrill (who died in 2001) and percussionist Candido Camero, balanced by some less thoroughly informed yet still insightful commentary by the late, great Dr. Billy Taylor tells much of the story of Cuban music when the narration fails to do so.

But there are problems. First off, it’s a little too obvious that Gary Keys made this film in the wake of the astounding success of “Buena Vista Social Club”. Whereas in the latter, Ry Cooder and his son Joachim tooled around Havana in a motorcycle with attached sidecar, Keys tools around in a vintage convertible,witnessing (much as the Cooders did) the people and the architecture of the island. In addition to that superficial, yet blatant similarity, one might be convinced that Ry Cooder and “Social Club” director Wim Wenders got the cream of the Cuban-music crop to appear in their film, leaving Keys with the leftovers. But I know through hearing CD’s that were issued in the US around this time period that there were many more first-rate musicians left that Cooder didn’t record, whom Keys also seems to have bypassed in his search. Thus, as I said in the last paragraph, this is “very good Cuban music”, but there’s an inconsistency to Keys’ selections which keep it from being a film about Great Cuban Music.

The problem lies at least in part in the film’s premise. Keys discovers Cuban music from a distance (New York), then travels to Cuba to learn more about it and to see what else he can find. This film is an honest documentation of his quest, but it probably would have worked a lot better - and contributed much further to our understanding of Cuban music at the turn of the 21st Century - if he had done more research. This would have given him a more informed idea of what he could uncover and where he could uncover it. His quest seems a bit haphazard, making accidental discoveries which - while certainly authentically Cuban, and thus representative of certain aspects of what was going on there at the time - do not strike me as the best of all available artistic treasures deserving of much-needed American exposure. What we have, in essence, is a fascinating, very personal travelogue which says, “I went to Cuba - this is what I saw, this is what I heard”. And that’s fine, there’s nothing inherently wrong with that approach, but it isn’t necessarily the ideal way to introduce or represent the music of a nation which was culturally cut off from American music lovers over several decades.

Another problem is the lack of a coherent narrative, which would have gone far to more effectively explain to a novice listener what one is seeing/hearing. Keys’ folksy chatting from behind the wheel of a car lacks depth and explication. There is an attractive young woman who is assigned the task of providing more information, but this turns out to be more of an opportunity for the young lady to appear on-camera than a significant exposition of the important points which should be made about music in Cuba. Do I expect ethnomusicological analysis? Not necessarily, but a more knowledgable descriptive account of the musical proceedings would have been very welcome.

Despite these problems, I think there is enough of value here in terms of music and variety to recommend this disc to readers with an interest in Latino music in general, so long as you have a good idea going into it of what this film and what it isn’t.

“David Lanz: Liverpool - Re-Imagining The Beatles: An Inside Look”

2011-09-11T15:45:00.001-07:00

The music of pianist David Lanz has been lumped in with New Age, smooth-jazz, fusion, semi-classical, and no doubt a few other categories. However, his distinctive blend of instrumental idioms really falls into no single genre, yet hints at several. It is within that spirit of stylistic eclecticism that Lanz recorded an album of Beatles songs, “Liverpool - Re-Imagining The Beatles”, arranged in his typically atypical manner. This DVD offers insight into the artist’s creative process as well as three music videos of tracks from that CD.

Lanz tells us he purposely stayed away from the most famous Beatles songs, such as “Yesterday” and “Hey Jude”. But since there are relatively few truly “obscure” Beatles songs (aside from a handful of B-sides), the melodies will pretty much all be familiar to those listeners who were around during the 1960’s. It’s to Lanz’ credit that he makes them sound fresh all over again, and even manages to throw you off the scent on a few, so that their identity is not immediately apparent. We get to see candid footage of Lanz and his fellow musicians in the studio as they bring these magical sounds to life. His cohorts include regular Lanz collaborators Gary Stroutsos on an end-blown Chinese bamboo flute called the xiao, and ex-Kronos Quartet cellist Walter Gray, as well as the late Bread keyboardist Larry Knechtel on organ for one piece.

The interview segments include a discussion by Lanz and Stroutsos (who bears a decided resemblance to Robert DeNiro) on the impact the Beatles’ music made on them. Lanz in particular calls them “my mentors”. They also discuss the songs chosen for the album, the collaborative process, Lanz’ compositional methods (starting with the melody and developing upwards from there, rather than constructing a tune from an existing harmonic structure; for this reason, the Beatles’ songs appeal to him because of their strong melodies), and his wish not to do “cover versions” per se, but to make the songs his own. A few brief portions of the Lanz/Stroutsos discussion are used more than once on the disc, when deemed relevant.

There is also an interview with “Mythodrama” leadership guru Richard Olivier (son of the great British actor Lawrence Olivier; Richard does a voice-over on the CD) concerning the mythology of the Beatles, as well as the affect they had on audiences in both the UK and USA. Perhaps it is because I am totally unfamiliar with the Mythodrama concept, but I confess to not getting much out of this segment.

I can’t help but think this DVD would have been more effective if it had been packaged with the “Liverpool” CD in a CD/DVD combination package. Nevertheless, I would think that most Lanz followers who already own the CD will find this disc to be a welcome enhancement to their listening experience. If you’re unfamiliar with the CD, I would start with that first.

62 minutes. Both CD and DVD are available through http://www.liverpoolcd.com/index.html

“Sonia - Who I Am” (Disappear Records)

2011-09-07T16:37:00.000-07:00

Sonia (Rutstein) is a singer-songwriter from Baltimore who is perhaps most associated with her various performing and recording units known as “Disappear Fear”. The name was applied in the 90’s to what might be termed an electric punk-folk band, but has been used more recently as the name of the duo in which Sonia and her sister Cindy Frank sing Phil Ochs songs (check out their CD, “Get Your Phil”). (Cindy was with the earlier band as well.)

This nine-song DVD collects Sonia performances from over a 16-year period, 1994 to 2010, from the days of the earlier Disappear band to more recent solo performances. These range from straight-out live performance clips to more produced music videos. There’s quite a bit of variety, from a song sung in Hebrew and English to protest/topical songs to blues. Most of the songs are Sonia’s own compositions, though there is one Phil Ochs song (“No More Songs, filmed in 2004, not by the current duo) and one (“By My Silence”) written by fellow singer-songwriters Ellen Bukstel and Nick Annis.

Though I personally tend to prefer the solo concert clips, there’s some more “arranged” material that sounds quite nice. Visuals range from photo-collage to the John Densmore-directed video for the disc’s title song, which features a young solo dancer in a rehearsal studio. It’s gratifying to see and hear Sonia in a number of different settings over a period of years, thus giving the viewer/listener a better chance to experience the various aspects of the artist’s musical offerings.

This DVD will probably have the most immediate appeal to Sonia’s sizable fan following. But since it’s being sold on her website - http://www.soniadf.com/shop_details.php?productcategory_id=1
for less than the price of one of her CD’s, it should make for a most agreeable introduction to the artist’s work. You might click the link to her paintings as well. A woman of multiple talents!

“Duke Ellington: Reminiscing In Tempo”/“Count Basie: Then As Now, Count’s The King”/“Dizzy Gillespie In Redondo” (all MVD)

2011-09-04T07:47:00.000-07:00

The common factor here is that all three films are the work of filmmaker Gary Keys, whose work is currently undergoing a revival of interest and exposure thanks to the folks at MVD. These are but three of several Keys films recently brought to DVD by MVD.

The Ellington film combines elements of the concert-film genre with documentary. A group of Ellington’s friends, associates, and fans were gathered together for a memorial birthday party by Duke’s sister, Ruth Ellington Boatright. They share reminiscences of Ellington the man, the composer, the pianist, the collaborator. Some, such as Bobby Short, Al Hibbler (who alas was WAY past his prime), Billy Taylor, Brooks Kerr, Hiromi, and Adam Makowicz, offer musical tributes as well.

Keys intersperses this with footage of a 1968 concert done in Mexico by Ellington and his band. Though the concert is from late in Duke’s career, the music is still solid, the re-considered arrangements fresh, and the soloists (who include such Ellington stalwarts as Lawrence Brown, Harry Carney, Johnny Hodges, and Cootie Williams, among others) still distinctive.

The highlight of the concert is the rarely-performed “Mexican Suite”, which was never commercially recorded. (It was later expanded into the “Latin-American Suite”, which WAS recorded). The presence of this suite would alone justify purchase of this DVD by the Eliington faithful. While I personally would have preferred that the suite be presented straight, without the travelog photography Keys mixes in, the visuals are fascinating in their own right.

I should mention that a discussion of race relations in America includes a few graphic images which many may find disturbing. Otherwise, this is a very agreeable release, although I wouldn’t recommend it as someone’s first intro to Duke Ellington.

Gary Keys’ Count Basie film is similar in that it juxtaposes footage, recordings, and photos of the band with spoken reminiscences by people who knew Basie well. But whereas the Ellington footage came from a single concert, the Basie film incorporates film and television footage from the 1950’s and later. The Ellington reminiscences came from interviews of a grouping of sophisticates who were all too aware of the camera, but the roundtable discussing Basie is far less formal, displaying a great deal of camaraderie and gentle ribbing, all in good fun.

The participants in the panel include Frank Wess, Frank Foster, Joe Wilder, and Benny Powell, all long-established Basie-ites, trombonist George Lewis (who was briefly in the Basie band in the mod-1970’s; he is mostly context to listen to and learn from the old-timers), and a holdover from the Ellington film, critic Ira Gitler. Gitler is heard so little, one might speculate that his actual role may have been off-camera, feeding ideas to the participants. They talk about Basie the bandleader, the personality, and the musical force. They recall incidents involving some of their fellow classic Basie musicians, and enjoy chatting about their own experiences as members of the Basie entourage. In all, it’s a very enjoyable, one might even say invigorating discussion.

The early Kansas City days are given short shrift in the selection of film clips, though there is a small-combo version of “One O’Clock Jump” from the early 50’s, most likely the earliest fooitage seen here. There are a number of other Basie standards from the 50’s band, such as “Midgets” (with a sprightly Frank Wess flute solo), “Corner Pocket”, and a version of “Li’l Darlin’” which seems to date from the period after Frank Foster took over the band. Billie Holiday is accompanied by Basie on two songs from 1952. We also get to hear from the great singer Joe Williams on “Alright Okay You Win” and “Everyday I Have The Blues” (the latter introduced by Dionne Warwick).

A couple performances might best be termed “Basie-related” - Frank Foster playing with Dizzy Gillespie in the 1980’s, and a clip of the Billy Eckstine big band of the 1940’s, which only becomes Basie-related when we get to hear a later sample of Eckstine and Basie together. There are also three clips which illustrate Basie’s impact on Hollywood. Jerry Lewis mimes to Basie recordings on excerpts from “Cinderfella” and “The Errand Boy”, while Keys was lucky enough to be able to include the incongruous performance of “April In Paris” from “Blazing Saddles”.

Frank Foster offers a lengthy poem (split into segments) on Basie’s life and career. Indeed, Foster is shown to be a “real character”, and is very much the “star” of the panel. In all, this is very entertaining stuff, and can easily be recommended as an introduction to the post-1950 Count Basie Orchestra.

Unlike the Ellington and Basie films, Gary Keys’ Dizzy Gillespie offering is a concert film, apparently part of a t.v. series called “Jazz in America”. I’m not going to beat around the bush - this is one VERY captivating concert film, skillfully assembled.

There are only four full-length performances in this hour-long club date, filmed in 1981. (The fifth title listed, “Jazz America”, heard briefly at the end, would seem to be the series’ theme song.) Even so, it pretty much encapsulates the range of Dizzy’s long-term contributions to the well-being of jazz. Some critics have implied that Gillespie did the great bulk of the innovations one associates with his name during the mid-to-late 1940’s, and that he pretty much coasted the rest of his career - which lasted till around 1990; he died in 1993. I will not argue this point, but innovation is not the only factor that matters. In his mid-60’s, he could still blow up quite a firestorm on this disc, proof positive that he remained an imaginative improviser as well as a first-rate entertainer well into late career.

Dizzy the waggish entertainer gets the proceedings off to a congenial start by “introducing the band”, at which point the musicians shake hands, pretending as if they were meeting for the first time. It may be a standard musicians’ joke, but Diz and the band carry it off so affably, it’s funny again, no matter how often you may have seen it. The band is a top-notch one, so now it’s my turn to “introduce the band”. Alto saxist Paquito D’Rivera burns on the opener, ”Be Bop”, with such assurance, you might think he was one of the originators of the bebop style, rather than a Cuban latecomer. Ed Cherry (misidentified here as “Ed Sherry”) is a deft guitarist who can work his way through a variety of styles with aplomb. Tom Macintosh is a low-key trombonist with a fine sense of rhythmic pacing. Pianist Valerie Capers is aggressive when she needs to be, sensitive when the moment calls for it. There are two bass players, each of whom has a well-defined role. Ray Brown, on stand-up acoustic bass, was born to play with Dizzy Gillespie, while electric bassist Michael Howell, is featured on the more contemporary, funk-flavored tunes. Drummer Tom Campbell, I confess, is a new name to me, though a quick Google search reveals he has solid credentials. In any event, he easily holds his own in this august company.

The repertoire includes not only fiery bop (“Be Bop”) and cooler bop (“Birks Works”), but funk (“Kush”) as well. But the piece de resistance may be a down-and-dirty blues, identified as “Dizzy’s Made Up Blues” on the DVD carton, and “Hard Of Hearing Mama” in the film itself. Both titles are apropos. The lyrics are blissfully off-the-wall in an Eddie “Cleanhead” Vinson sort of way. Macintosh’s solo could have been somewhat nastier in this context. Cherry’s solo starts out well, but he loses himself in repetition. Howell, though, pulls things back together with a blues-guitar-like bass solo, while Capers’ piano solo makes far better use of repitition and rolling blues riffs. In all, a highly entertaining performance, Cherry’s stumble notwithstanding.

Anyone other than a musical curmudgeon should find much to delight in on this disc.

“Bob Lind: Perspective” (self-released DVD)

2011-08-22T16:31:00.000-07:00

Singer-songwriter Bob Lind is remembered today primarily for his 1966 Top 5 hit, “Elusive Butterfly”. Over a five-year period ending in 1971, he released a small, but significant body of work that was the equal of virtually any other singer-songwriter during that busy period, yet it went under-recognized at the time, and is sadly largely forgotten today. And then he disappeared.

Four decades later, we find out that not only is Bob Lind alive and musically active, he still sounds as good as he ever did, and is still writing first-rate songs that deserve to be heard by a much, much wider audience. But not only does this recently issued DVD include a number of fine live performances of songs from his recent output in the company of a small, but sensitive combo (as opposed to the lush orchestration that framed his songs back in the 60’s), there are documentary segments that go a long way towards explaining “whatever-happened-to-Bob-Lind”, and why he seemed to fall off the face of the earth for so long.

It turns out that Bob Lind had what we now call “issues”- drinking issues, drug issues, anger-management issues, self-esteem issues. His travails reached the point where nobody in the music business wanted to work with him anymore. Subsequently, he lost his enthusiasm for the music business (though not the music), so he dropped from sight and lived off his songwriting royalties. Eventually, he took a job making up wacky stories about Martians and Bigfoot for the supermarket tabloid “Weekly World News”, and began to enjoy life a bit more. He talks openly and honestly about his problems during the interview/conversation segments on this disc. And while he feels he’s in a “much different place” now, and has become virtually a different person, he confesses to still having a few demons to conquer (anger mixed with sadness), but at least he’s made it back in one piece.

The fact of the matter is, in his late 60’s, he doesn’t sound a whole lot different from the way he did in his mid-20’s, which is an achievement in itself. His voice is instantly recognizable, his new lyrics still thoughtful, richly creative, and personal, the music still polished, but now showing a wider range of influences ranging from country-rock to jazz, as well as folk. Interestingly, on the jazz-tinged pieces, he doesn’t sing in an overtly jazz-vocal style, but the melodies have a bit of a swagger and the band swings in turn. He’s a new Bob Lind, but in ways that should have no difficulty appealing to fans of the old Bob Lind; hopefully this disc should bring in some new supporters along the way as well.

The good news is that he presents current versions of a few old favorites, including “Cheryl’s Going Home” (adding a little scat to the arrangement) and “Elusive Butterfly”, which now sports a surprisingly effective Latin-inflected beat. Unlike some artists who try very hard to avoid performing their old classics, Lind is willing to accept that there are people who will come to see his cocnerts because of their love for “Butterfly”. But the better news is that the new songs are certainly well worth hearing, whether he accompanies them on guitar or piano, an instrument which adds which adds an entirely new dimension to the Bob Lind sound. Yes, his music has undergone some changes, but it is still accessible, fulfilling, and of a high quality.

Bob Lind is not an “oldies act”, nor a simple purveyor of nostaligia. He has not stood still, and there is no reason he should have stood still. He is not a relic of the past, but a viable current artist with something to say that’s well worth listening to. Welcome back, Bob Lind!

“Bob Lind - Perspective” is 93 minutes long. For more information and a sample, visit http://www.boblind.com/LindDVD.html

“The Other Side Of The Water: The Journey Of A Haitian Rara Band in Brooklyn” (Third World Newsreel)

2011-08-14T16:06:00.000-07:00

The phenomenon known as “rara” is a highly localized one native to the country of Haiti (aside from a bit of spillover into the Dominican Republic, where it is known as “gaga”.) It is intimately connected to the Haitian spirit religion known as vodun (or “voodoo”). Voodoo as practiced in Haiti is very much unlike the sort of madcap, stick-pins-in-dolls silliness seen in Hollywood movies over the past 70 years, the first thing Americans think of when they hear the term “voodoo”. Even given that statement, rara is not so much a religious ritual (though it certainly has aspects of one), as it is a Carnival-like procession, with music, dancing, and a variety of carryings-on, combined with ceremonies at graveyards and crossroads. It is an event that takes place on a virtually daily/nightly basis along both the rural and urban thoroughfares of Haiti during Lent, escalating in the days leading up to Easter. It has a reputation for being loud, disruptive, and, er, impolite, but its religious and cultural connections have made it a vital part of Haitian identity, much to the dismay of many Haitians.

This fascinating documentary allows us a glimpse into a new setting for this old event (which is thought to date back to the Colonial era), the Haitian community in Brooklyn, NY. The Haitian-American community is one of the “hidden” ethnic treasures in the US, perhaps because many of the members of this community have done little to assimilate into American culture, while others have tried to blend in totally. The latter have become invisible, while the former tend to think of themselves as being Haitians in exile, living here only temporarily, having come to escape political oppression and poverty, even long before the earthquake of 2010. Many manifestations of Haitian culture (such as konpa music) survive in the US, even though hardly anyone outside the Haitian-American community is aware of their existence.

But this film focuses on the specific example of rara, which is not even accepted by many Haitian-Americans. It is particularly despised, even feared, by those who profess themselves to be Christians, and are convinced that any phenomenon associated with voodoo is Satanic and therefore unsafe for the community. (It should be pointed out that Satan per se, in the Judeo-Christian sense, is not a major focus of voodoo, one of many misconceptions that pervade the religion, even among Haitian non-followers.) This has made it especially difficult for the film’s main figure, Pe Yves, to establish and subsequently maintain the longest-running rara band in the United States, DJA-Rara.

The film follows the band’s history from its formation in the early 1990’s to the present, through a series of interviews with Pe Yves, as well as present and former members of the band, family members, supporters and detractors. There are also rehearsal and performance footage, short video clips of Haitian bands, radio appearances in which Pe Yves openly discusses the negative stereotypes people have of the music, and expert opinion on both cultural and Haitian political matters. Parts of the film are in the Kreyol language, with subtitles, but the rest is in English. We see rara used as an energetic source of fun at times, but it is also shown to be used as an outlet for protest. In both cases, DJA-Rara intends it to be a force of unity among the Haitian population of Brooklyn, though it doesn’t always turn out that way.

The music of Rara is very strong rhythmically, but traditionally has been comparatively simple melodically. The primary melodic instruments are bamboo “vaksin” horns and a cylindrical metal trumpet called the “konet”. (The spellings of both instruments varies, since Kreyol has traditionally been a spoken language more than a written one.) Each of these instruments plays only one note. If you want to construct a melody which has, say, two notes, you need two horns pitched differently. For a three-note melody, you need three horns, each of which plays a different pitch. This works fine for religious purposes and if your primary purpose is to make noisy entertainment while marching/dancing through the streets. But in more recent times, saxophones and trumpets have been added to the parade. Or - if you want to restrict your rara band to traditional Haitian instruments - one can add more one-note bamboo or metal horns, each with its own pitch, in order to play a full scale.

This latter concept originated in Haiti, but has been adopted by DJA-Rara, which led to pressures within the band itself, as Pe Yves felt the need to downplay the musicians’ rowdy, celebratory enthusiasms and to professionalize and modernize the band’s approach, as detailed in the film. Subsequently, DJA-Rara became the first American rara band to record a CD, in 2008. The band celebrated their 20th anniversary in 2010. However, what would normally have been cause for jubilation was greatly tempered when everyone in the band lost friends and family members in the earthquake.

We see rara music used outside of its strictly voodoo context, to entertain children at a Christmas party, to cheer on a soccer team, playing at a street fair, and for a very appreciative ethnomusicology class at Amherst College. And, in what I find to be one of the most encouraging scenes near the end of the film, we hear from one little girl who is already thinking of the day when the band members get older, and it will be up to her and her generation to take over for them, and keep the music alive. Pe Yves and DJA-Rara may have struggled through those first 20 years, but it would appear they have laid the groundwork for the continunace of the rara tradition in the United States.

Thge film is 52 minutes long. More info, as well as a few clips from the film, may be found at http://www.othersideofthewater.org/ Third World Newsreel is at http://www.twn.org

“Complaints Choir” (Fine & Mellow)

2011-08-03T16:47:00.000-07:00

Complaints. We all have things to complain about, we all make complaints. They allow us to let off steam, to deal with our problems by sharing them with sympathetic friends, to shout out our frustrations on Facebook to a world that may or may not care. Or we can write them into songs and sing our complaints away. To be sure, this is not a new concept. It’s what the entire genre of music we call “blues” is all about, catharsis through the writing and singing of our complaints arranged as song lyrics. But now, here’s a new way to sing our troubles away - through a phenomenon called the “Complaints Choir”.

This documentary DVD with three accompanying CD’s will tell you most everything you need to know about Complaints Choirs. It turns out that there are several dozen such choirs throughout the world, the majority in Europe, but quite a few in North America as well. The film follows the originators of the Complaints Choir concept as they attempt to put together new choral groups in Chicago and Singapore. Though not a “how-to” instructional video, it will show you just what you need to do to put together your own Complaints Choir, and what not to do, particularly if you live in a repressive society such as Singapore.

The Complaints Choir concept is the brainchild of Finns Tellervo Kallleinen and Oliver Kochta-Kalleinen, who are featured throughout the film. Their original concept had less to do with the aesthetics side of choral singing per se, but was instead a unique form of participatory performance art. When the pair decide to open a branch of their Complaints Choir concept in a new location, they put out the word through local media of what they intend to do, and when and where the first rehearsal will be. People may read it, find it to be of potential interest and show up. The Finns never know who will show up, how many will show up, or if indeed anyone will come at all. The first meeting isn’t actually a rehearsal as such. The Finns tell people to write down their complaints, anything that may bother them enough that they feel the need to turn it into creative energy. Certain particularly interesting complaints are collected, and a song lyric is formed from the combination of several such unconnected lines and sentences. A songwriter is then called in to set them to music, and the choir then rehearses the song for public performance.

What we see in the film is the entire process from start to finish. People talking about their lives and voicing complaints, the process of those complaints becoming son g lyrics, interviews with the melody writers/accompanists, choral rehearsals, public performance. We hear what people are frustrated about, what it is they hope to gain from their participation in this art project, how the Finns react to the process they set into motion, and what the audience reaction is like. This may sound straightforward enough, but occasionally there are definite complications. Things go very wrong in Singapore, where people are strongly discouraged from expressing any sort of complaint in public. Compromises with government officials are attempted, including a self-censorship attempt that ruled out certain topics, and a rather odd situation in which the government would allow the Singaporean natives to sing, but not the foreigners temporarily residing in Singapore as “guest workers”.

The film, by director Ada Bligaard Soby, gives the viewer a real feel for the pettiness under which repressive governments operate, and how it affects the lives of the innocent amateur performers who simply wish to participate in a novel art project-cum-choral performance. It also affordsa a fascinating glimpse at a creative process which is quite a bit less formal and less traditional than a more academically-oriented process of readying a recital or choral concert. It demonstrates quite effectively that, in the long run, the Finns do not control the entire process, but simply set it up, act as referees (one likens her role to that of “party host”), then let the process carry on in its own way, at its own pace. Thus, the results will be different wherever a Complains Choir is attempted. There are also a few scenes intercut into the film of a minster who has developed a totally different way to help members of his flock eliminate complaints from their lives. These segments are interesting enough, but they are not really relevant to what the Finns are doing, and could have been edited out of the film with no great loss.

The film is 56 minutes long. DVD bonus features include a trailer, clips of other Complaints Choirs, a discussion of the Finns’ philosophy behind their concept, and excerpts of a few of their other, very different art projects (mostly involving Tellervo by herself). The 3 CD’s include full-length performances by a number of Complaints Choirs, both official and “DIY” choirs, from many areas of the world, in a highly impressive variety of musical genres. The performances may range from rank amateurism to polished semi-professionalism, but the real point of these projects is more the artistic process rather than achieving an aesthetically pleasing result.

More info may be found at http://www.complaintschoir.org

“Wheedle’s Groove: Seattle’s Forgotten Soul Of The 1960s and ‘70’s (Cinewax)

2011-07-23T16:19:00.000-07:00

It seems popular music is much more homogeneous in the 21st century than it was through much of the 20th. There used to be many more local/regional scenes than there are now. You used to be able to tell which records came from Memphis, or Miami, or South Texas, just to name a few of these scenes. Some of the old regional-music scenes going back over a half-century struggle to survive, but survive they do, such as swamp-pop from Southwestern Louisiana, or beach music from the Carolinas. A few of these scenes managed to achieve national prominence, even dominance, such as Motown (which often used singers from outside Detroit, but the Funk Brothers backup band who really defined Motown were largely local), San Francisco psychedelia, or New York-style doo-wop.

But then there were scenes which - important as they may have been to the locals - never attracted attention outside their area. Go-go music from Washington, D.C. comes to mind. Cleveland sure seemed like a hot rock town in the 60’s, provided you lived close to the Lake Erie shoreline, that is. And, as this documentary DVD illustrates, there was a lot of great soul music in Seattle in the 1960’s and 70’s. Seattle? Soul music? Yes, indeed. But hardly anyone outside the area, including myself, had any inkling that something special was happening there. The Pacific Northwest - Oregon/Washington/Idaho - had already spawned the Ventures, the Wailers, the Kingsmen, the Sonics, Paul Revere and the Raiders, etc, but that wasn’t specific to one city, and for that matter nearby Tacoma was more significant to that scene than Seattle was. Grunge, of course, came out of Seattle as the 80’s gave way to the 90’s, but that was hardly soul music, either, though a few Seattle rock musicians are shown in the film saying nice things about what happened before their era. Let’s face it, you just don’t think of Seattle as being a hotbed for black music of any kind.

Nonetheless, during the 1940’s in particular, Seattle was a jumping jazz town. Both Ray Charles and Quincy Jones spent important developmental years in Seattle. The producers of “Wheedle’s Groove” (the “wheedle” being the mascot of the Space Needle, used to symbolize Seattle as a whole) were fortunate enough to get Quincy Jones to give his insights on the Seattle scene as it was during and after World War II. In more recent years, Sir Mix-a-Lot (who also participates in this film) has represented Seattle on the national urban-music scene.

But our primary concern here is the golden era of soul and funk. Sadly, hardly any footage of black Seattle bands from this period exists, which would seem to bode ill for a documentary film focusing on unknown artists.. (There IS a brief clip of a group called the Majestics, who are otherwise hardly mentioned here.) But by combining old still photos, shots of record labels, a number of audio tracks of several of the relatively few 45’s recorded by Seattle soul and funk bands (not one of which will sound familiar to anyone from the “outside”), and extensive modern-day interviews with many of the significant musicians active on the scene, director Jennifer Maas has come up with a compelling and both visually and musically satisfying document of a scene that was ill-served by those people who really should have taken the time to document it while it was happening.

We get to hear excerpts of 45’s by such local stars as the Black On White Affair, Cold Bold and Together, Ron Buford with singer Ural Thomas, Patrinell Staten (whose “Little Love Affair”, became a British cult favorite decades after the fact), Cookin’ Bag, Robbie Hill’s Family Affair. All these artists may now be heard on Youtube, by the way, though without the context, discussions, and interviews provided by the film. Only one superstar emerged from the scene, one Kenneth Gorelick, known to the world as Kenny G, who has wonderful things to say in the film about the experience he gained by being a member of Cold, Bold and Together. Humorously, Kenny G credits the rainy Seattle weather with keeping him inside the house to practice. CB&T also featured keyboardist Philip Woo, who remains a known quantity on the international jazz scene to this day.

As the film describes, the scene was a healthy one for several years, with a lot of work for everyone, albeit not necessarily well-paying. There was also a lot of cooperation among musicians, which is always conducive to creativity. Local radio station KYAC was strongly supportive of the scene, not generally the case with local radio in more recent times. (Several excerpts of an interview with DJ Robert Nesbitt add very insightful comments on the scene..) The fan support was strong, also. So, while no one became rich or famous at the time, the consensus seems to be that it was a great time and place to be a musician. White and Asian musicians (such as Gorelick and Woo) were reradily accepted - if they could play - despite the influence of the Black Panther Party on the scene. The clubs, however, were more segregated. The lack of gigs in white clubs no doubt worked against the bands’ greater acceptance and financial rewards. Another factor working against the bands is that Seattle was not a media center, and the bands couldn’t afford to promote their record themselves outside the area.

Quincy Jones and Jimi Hendrix had to leave Seattle before even attempting to “make it”. In fact, Black on White Affair did manage to contact Quincy through his brother, but nothing came of it. Ural Thomas signed with Uni, once again with no breakthrough in the offing. Indeed, it seems the mere process of trying to break out of Seattle was the downfall of a few bands. Disagreements among members didn’t help, either, then disco nailed the lid on the coffin. The more people wanted to dance to recorded music, the less work there was for live bands. The fact that Seattle’s economy took a nosedive in the dark years between Boeing’s downturn and the birth of the high-tech industry led to hard times for music as well.

Several of the participants talk about what happened to their lives . Patrinell Staten Wright became successful in gospel music, others became teachers, musicians, and white- and blue-collar workers. The scene evaporated, but thanks to this DVD, it lives on in memory, in photos, and on those precious 45-RPM records. After a long fallow period, a CD compilation of a few of those 45’s sparked renewed interest in the Seattle soul and funk scene, which eventually set the wheels in motion for the production of this film. A number of the original Seattle soul musicians got together to play at the CD release party, sounding as fine and funky as they did 30-40 years earlier. We get to see excerpts from their modern-day concerts and recording sessions. If I have a complaint about the DVD, it’s that more performances, and at full-length, should have been included, if not in the film, in the extras. (I should mention that the recording engineer who has helped preserve these new performances is the same man who recorded
many of the originals, Kearney Barton, who also recorded the Kingsmen and the Sonics back in the day. He is also interviewed in the film.)

The point is made at the end of the film that the bands featured here are only the tip of the iceberg. A long list of many, many more is shown preceding the final credits. I’ve got my fingers crossed for a Volume 2!

There are a number of deleted scenes, interviews, performances, etc. in addition to the original 87-minute film. The movie has done deservedly very well on the Festival circuit, and is still bering shown on the big screen. But the DVD is available now from http://www.wheedlesgroovemovie.com/ This is the good stuff!

“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” (First Run Features)

2011-07-20T16:44:00.000-07:00

I’m always a bit confounded whenever music fans of my own (baby-boomer) generation, including many whom I feel should know better, fail to recognize the name “Phil Ochs” when I mention it. Certainly, I’ve given up expecting anyone under the age of 40 to have heard of him. But baby boomers? Come on, this man was (in my opinion, to be sure, but I’m far from alone) the greatest singer-songwriter to come out of the 1960’s following the emergence of Bob Dylan. It seems the enormous shadow of Dylan has long since dwarfed such once-vaunted figures as Bob Lind (whose new DVD will be reviewed soon), Eric Anderson, David Blue, Fred Neil, David Ackles, Patrick Sky, and the various Tims (Hardin, Rose, and Buckley), to such an overwhelming extent that even Tom Paxton and, yes, Phil Ochs do not have anywhere near the name recognition value that they deserve.

Nevertheless, Phil Ochs still has a considerable following, albeit a specialized one, but large enough that the theatrical release of Kenneth Bowser’s biographical documentary “Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” in 2010 was hailed as a major event among us old-folkie types. With the film’s release on DVD taking place this week, everyone can now see what all the fuss was about. This is one marvelous piece of work, a loving, skillfully-assembled, no-holds-barred portrait of a man who was misunderstood by so many people, including himself. It’s a tragic story, a tale of disillusionment, mental illness, alcoholism, dashed hopes, unfulfilled dreams, and eventual suicide, but one with a brilliant soundtrack of poetic lyrics, memorable melodies, and a one-of-a-kind voice.

Bowser has Included a wealth of interview clips, including many of the people closest to Phil Ochs - family (Phil’s famous photo archivist brother, Michael Ochs, who was one of this film’s producers; Phil’s well-known folk-music disc jockey sister and keeper of the Phil Ochs flame, Sonny Ochs; Phil’s wife and daughter), close friends (most notably Jim Glover of Jim and Jean, who was responsible for politicizing Ochs), musical associates (including early supporter Pete Seeger, Peter Yarrow, Judy Henske, Van Dyke Parks, Lincoln Mayorga, Joan Baez - who recorded the best-known version of Ochs’ song “There But For Fortune” - and on film, Dave Van Ronk), political associates (Tom Hayden, Fugs members Ed Sanders among them), record industry associates (Elektra’s Jac Holzman, A&M’s Jerry Moss) - an incredible array of people important to Phil Ochs’ life and career. The result is a well-rounded selection of opinions, reminiscences, and emotional responses, chronologically arranged. One might wish that some of the clips had been longer, but that’s because Ochs himself had such an engrossing life.

It would seem Bowser didn’t miss very much. We hear about Ochs’ upbringing by a Jewish father who came back from World War II mentally unstable and a Scottish mother who refused to hide her unhappiness. We see photos of Phil growing up conservatively in small-town 1950’s America - local readers of this blog may not be aware that some of this growing up took place in nearby Perrysburg, NY, and that Ochs played clarinet at a SUNY Fredonia summer music camp; there’s even a vintage still of Gowanda’s Hollywood Theater. We find him dropping out of Ohio State University, discovering his first great political cause in the Civil Rights movement, finding hope in the presidency of John Kennedy, having his illusions shattered by Kennedy’s assassination and America’s increasing involvement in Vietnam. We learn how Ochs was browbeaten by his songwriting role model, Bob Dylan, which did not sidetrack Ochs’ unrealistic but fervent determination to make it big in show-biz through the writing of liberally-oriented (yet hardly doctrinaire) protest songs. As times change, we see him expanding (as did Dylan, of course) into more personal, less purely folk-style songs, moving beyond acoustic guitar backdrops to a more “produced” type of recording. (However, Ochs was not interested in folk-rock, but surrounded his songs with classical and orchestral influences. The results were superb, but decidedly non-commercial.) We follow his increasing involvement with the counter-culture taking unexpected turns, leading street-theater-of-the-absurd demonstrations which celebrated the end of the Vietnam War years before it actual ended. We feel impending disaster as he fatefully becomes involved as a key member of the Yippies and serves as a catalyst in the catastrophic demonstrations at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. We puzzle at his dressing up like Elvis Presley in gold lame for his career-destroying Carnegie Hall concert, which lost him the support of many of his long-term fans. A journey to third world countries leads to a meeting with nueva cancion icon Victor Jara in Chile, two years before the coup against the Allende government and Jara’s execution. His travels also take him to Africa. where Ochs is attacked and robbed in an incident in Tanzania that ruined his vocal cords. All this while, he is increasingly falling victim to bipolar disease, exacerbated by finding far too much solace for his depression in alcohol dependence. His growing combativeness begins to offend even his friends. Eventually, he falls off the deep end mentally, and announces the demise of Phil Ochs, replacing him with an obnoxious alter-ego named John Train. And then come those sad last days of 1976. To sum it up - it’s all here, it’s all examined in some depth, and it’s all put into comprehensible contexts.

We see short video clips and hear audio excerpts of many songs from every stage of Phil Ochs’ career. I find it particularly revealing to hear live performances from after the Tanzanian incident. Yes, his voice has suffered and has lost its consistency. But the voice and style are still recognizably that of Phil Ochs. I truly believe that, if he had been so inclined, he could have continued his career well past this point. But it wasn’t Phil Ochs the singer who had been mutilated, it was Phil Ochs the man.

“Phil Ochs: There But For Fortune” is, then, both a celebration of and eulogy for this important 20th-century artist. It would be easy to disparage him for what he became in the 1970’s, but I prefer to remember Phil Ochs as he was in the 1960’s. This film allows for both interpretations, and each viewer may take from it the Phil Ochs they wish to recall. Highest recommendation.

The film runs 97 minutes, plus a text bio of the director, and a photo gallery.

“Chieli Minucci & Special EFX: Live At The Java Jazz Festival” (Platinum Records)

2011-06-22T16:48:00.000-07:00

It would not surprise me if some people were to think there are two Chieli
Minucci’s. One is a highly-regarded composer for television, winning three Emmy
Awards for his music for “The Guiding Light” and themes for other programs, as
well as special “hold” music for Verizon. The other is an eminently skilled and
highly creative jazz guitarist/composer and leader of the band Special EFX, who
had a long run of recording success in the 1980’s/90’s. Of course, they’re the
same person, who happens to have developed two very different musical
identities.

This live-concert DVD presents the second of the two Chieli Minucci’s, a very modern
jazz guitarist who himself is more than capable of changing musical identities,
ranging from Wes Montgomery-rooted mainstream guitarist
to McLaughlin/DiMeola-flavored jazz/rock/world-music fusionist, and beyond. But
don’t get the idea that he’s an imitator, as he does all manner of interesting
things to transform his influences into something solidly original. Moreover,
he’s smart enough to surround himself with four other musicians, who likewise do
new things within settings comfortable enough to be appealing to a wide range of
listeners, from smooth-jazz fans to rockers to mainstream jazz purists, and all
points throughout that wide spectrum.

The concert was filmed in 2009 at a festival in Jakarta, Indonesia, a country one
might not automatically associate with contemporary-jazz. But as the fusion band
Krakatau has long demonstrated, there are some exciting things happening in that
island nation, even though Americans seem only to hear of it when there’s a
massive natural disaster of some sort. (Side note - I seriously doubt James
Brown appeared at the 2009 Java Jazz Festival, despite what it says in the liner
notes, as James died in 2006.)

Minucci’s style is, as I’ve indicated rooted in earlier aspproaches to jazz guitar,styles,
but his rhythmic sense and textural explorations clearly mark him as a
contemporary equal of a Charlie Hunter (albeit without the latter’s independent
bass lines.) He deftly works his way from the early Miles/Chick brand of
jazz-rock, through "pre-dolphin" Winter Consort, a lovely Stevie Wonder ballad
(the only cover on the disc), Afro and Afro-Brazilian, all th way to
funk, through the course of seven tastefully arranged tracks, each of which is
of a substantial enough length (averaging around 10 minutes or so) to develop
through a number of changes and mood shifts.

Each of the members of Special EFX is a a creative force in his own right, and keeps
a cohesive groove going as a unit. Percussionist Philip Hamilton adds wordless
vocal melodies and interjections which contribute a world-music flavoring to
several tracks. Keyboardist Jay Rowe adds lovely cushions under Minucci’s
playing and solos with such joy that the listener can’t help but be caught up in
his exuberance. Drummer Lionel Cordew always seems to know what’s appropriate,
while bassist Jerry Brooks has a popping, crackling approach that enlivens the
rhythm section and intensifies his solo breaks.

Sound and picture quality are excellent. No bonus features, but there’s 75 minutes’
worth of music, with virtually no wasted time in between tunes. It's all music,
very little chat, which is an important factor when it comes to repeated
viewing. I simply can’t imagine anyone walking away unimpressed by this concert
disc.

“These Magnificent Miles: On The Long Road With Red Wanting Blue” (Davenport Motion Pictures)

2011-06-21T16:51:00.000-07:00

What is the true measure of success? Stardom? Money? A record deal/book contract/movie-studio greenlighting? The satisfaction that many people appreciate your work, even though the size of their audience pales in comparison to, say, Lady Gaga’s? A loving family? Food on the table on a regular basis?

The members of indie-rock band Red Wanting Blue have enjoyed a few of those measures of success for some years. Over the course of their first fourteen years as a working unit, they had the support of family and friends, they ate and had rooves over their heads (even if it was thanks to working day jobs unrelated to their aspirations to be full-time professional musicians), and yes, they had the adoration of thousands of devoted fans over a wide geographical area. But the members of the band (hereafter referred to as RWB) were long frustrated by their failure to secure a recording contract. True, they released 8 CD’s on their own and toured nationally to great acclaim, hailed by both audiences and critics. Still, the brass ring always managed to elude them.

Goodness knows it was not for lack of trying, because - as this documentary film by producer-director Ken Davenport illustrates - the members of RWB have been bona fide road warriors, touring incessantly and gaining followers everywhere they’ve played. Goodness also knows it was not for lack of merit, as the performances shown on this DVD - featuring the distinctive,. emotion-laden baritone voice of Scott Terry - are uniformly fine. The band is tight, the songs are suitably melodic, with lyrics that often verge on the anthemic, the arrangements are accessible, yet creative. They would seem to be doing everything right. Even a recording executive who was interviewed for the film acknowledges the quality of the group. He just didn’t feel that what RWB offered could translate into major mainstream national success - yet, their faithful fan base continued to grow.

Davenport wisely lets the band tell their own story, of good times blending with hard times, of great gigs, long drives, musical satisfactions and frustrations, personnel problems and solutions, of a group of musicians in their late 20’s and early 30’s worried that time has already past them by. We see footage of the band throughout their long career, dating back to the days when OAR opened for RWB in Columbus, OH. But OAR took off, and RWB didn’t. We get interviews with family, friends, and fans, all of whom are mystified by tthe band’s lack of mainstream attention.

The film doesn’t beat you over the head - as some documentaries do - with manic shouts on the order of “You gotta love this band! You’re a fool if you don’t love this band”, because it doesn’t have to. The evidence is there, in plain sight and sound. This band should be as big as, oh, Matchbox 20 ten years ago, or Maroon 5 - what did they have that RWB lacks? Yet despite that national fan base and a trail of critical raves, no one would so much as give them a chance.

Thus,, we see them involved in the mundane tasks which they feel a recording contract would relieve them of - putting CD’s into envelopes, stuffing envelopes into boxes, hauling boxes to the post office. Tasks that a record company can hire underlings to take care of. Tasks that a 14-year veteran band with a national following should in theory not have to devote time and energy to.

Atrthe end of the movie, we learn that since the original filming, the band finally was signed to a record deal, not with SONY or Warner, but with Fanatic, whose boss saw in RWB the potential that other record execs inexplicably missed. Since that time, the band has yet to crack the upper reaches of stardom, but their time may yet be coming.

“These Magnificent Miles” - the film is named after their most recent CD - is well-filmed, intelligently edited, thoughtfully paced. But its most noteworthy accomplishment is that it features a number of full-length concert performances and scenes shot in recording studios to give the viewer a very real sense of what this band does and what level of excellence RWB has attained. In the end, you’re left rooting for the band to make it. Ken Davenport has thus done his job.

The film itself is an hour long. There is an unnecessary deleted scene, plus two music videos. Check out the films website, at http://www.redwantingbluemovie.com/

“John Lennon: Rare And Unseen” (MVD)/“Lennonyc” (A&E)

2011-06-14T16:50:00.000-07:00

Could there possibly be anything left to learn about John Lennon, any scrap of film or recorded sound not yet seen and/or unavailable to the public on the dozens of other documentaries devoted to former Beatles, anything truly “rare and unseen”? Apparently so.

The MVD DVD “John Lennon: Rare and Unseen” actually collects vintage material that is, yes, rare, but which has been seen. Perhaps only once, 40+ years ago, and not throughout the whole world. In other words, so few people have seen this material (with the possible exception of the David Frost interviews, which have been unavailable up till now on DVD), the title is entirely legitimate. Since the public’s fascination with Everything Lennon continues unabated - every Fall semester, the 18-year-olds in my Freshman Liberal Arts Seminar are quick to identify the Beatles in general and Lennon in particular as one of their “favorite artists” - there would seem to be a ready-made market for both DVD’s under review here. Since the MVD disc more-or-less ends where “Lennonyc” begins (the title is short for “Lennon NYC”, chronicling John’s years in New York City and, despite the title, Los Angeles), they are not in the least incompatible. Although the A&E film (originally shown on PBS” “American Masters” series) is by far the superior product, hard-core Lennon fans will want them both.

“Rare and Unseen” (part of a series of MVD releases under that rubric) is arranged so that it traces the arc of John Lennon’s career up to the early 1970’s, going back to his teen-aged days with the Quarrymen. We meet an insecure, yet irreverent young fellow, lacking confidence, social skills, and the ability to trust people. It is easy to see the roots of the anxiety he always betrayed while addressing the press, which led him to blurt out answers - often treating seriously intended questions in a sarcastic manner - which got him into trouble on numerous occasions. A goodly amount of time is spent here examining his infamous “more popular than Jesus” remark - what he said, what people thought he meant, what he really meant, why people didn’t realize what it was he actually meant, etc. As Beatles’ press officer Tony Barrow puts it, “the words in his brain never did come out right by the time they reached his mouth.” Barrow contends that if John had written his apology in a song, it would have been brilliant, but he had a difficult time explaining his words to journalists.

Though the disc is arranged chronologically, not every major event in the Beatles’ development is addressed, nor is there any intent to do that. The subjects chosen are dependent on what rare, unseen television clips were available. So we skip over some of the Beatles’ finest, most innovative moments to get to the Bed-In for Peace, and John and Yoko’s involvement in the anti-Vietnam War movement as a whole. The Beatles’ managerial difficulties (the Lee Eastman faction, i.e., Paul, vs. the Allen Klein faction); the relationship between John and Paul and what their romantic entanglements may have contributed to the break-up of the Beatles (John denies it was a factor); and John’s involvement with Yoko’s avant-garde art world are among the more prominent matters discussed.

Unfortunately, there is no narration to either tie together the various segments or to serve to transition between clips, or even to explain a bit about the nature of the programs this material came from. To be sure, narrations on a program such as this can often be less than helpful, and a back-cover blurb does supply some of the missing pieces of the puzzle. It might also have been preferable to show the originals in toto, rather than split up by added remarks, as it were. But the commentary, both from the original broadcasts (Desmond Morris’ perspectives are, as one might expect, particularly insightful) and newly-recorded (Steve Harley, ex-Cockney Rebel rock star turned BBC commentator, is quite perceptive) is quite interesting. Besides, the clips are worth seeing, from a purely historical viewpoint, as well as from the eyes of a “true fan” wanting to understand as much as one can about this enigmatic hero.

Hearing all these opinions as well as the Lennon interviews over the course of 75 minutes does give you the illusion at least of understanding this complex and often seemingly contradictory individual a bit better, though he will no doubt continue to elude us forever. There are no musical performances on the disc, but this is less about John Lennon the musician than John Lennon the man. No extras, but there’s certainly enough here to warrant a recommendation..

“Lennonyc”, which takes us inside John Lennon’s world during the 1970’s until his assassination in 1980, is about the man AND the music, with a number of live performances and studio discussions. But it’s the sections on the man that are particularly significant. We begin, not with the beginning, but near the end, with studio chatter from the “Double Fantasy” sessions and interviews with a few of the musicians from that album. We hear a playful, joking John, seemingly at ease with the process of recording after being away from it for several years. But the John Lennon who is revealed to us during the bulk of the film is far less jovial, frequently hostile, eventually becoming a nasty drunk and unproductive drug addict during his L.A. stay, where he comes off as downright unlikable. Then fatherhood changes him. But I’m getting ahead of the story.

John Lennon arrived in New York City full of hope, escaping from years of Beatlemania, and from hounding by the British press who blamed Yoko for the demise of the Beatles. His political stance also got him into trouble at home. No doubt he thought in America he would be freer to express himself, both artistically and politically. But then he finds himself aligned with Chicago Seven activist Rennie Davis, plus Yippies Jerry Rubin and Abbie Hoffman, and the full furor of the Nixon administration falls down upon Lennon’s head. Strom Thurmond convinces Washington that Lennon must be kicked out of the US. The deportation hearings drag on and on, FBI spies follow Lennon at every turn, what would have been an important tour is canceled, despite flimsy evidence that he actually posed a threat to the American way of life. But Lennon’s post-Beatles recordings with Elephant’s Memory, filled as they are with political material, controversial language, and the raw sounds of a Greenwich Village street band accompanying a man who had up until then been playing with the most famous musical ensemble in the world, also fell on uncomprehending ears, damaging his musical reputation and his commercial viability as well.

The frustrations lead to a bout of marital infidelity which led Yoko - who had literally been his constant companion up to this time - to kick him out. Lennon moves to LA, spends his time partying with Keith Moon and Harry Nilsson, two of rock’s most notorious ne’er-do-wells, clashes loudly with producer Phil Spector during the chaotic sessions for the “Rock’n’Roll” LP of oldies covers, acts crazy in public (on the club scene), and screams Yoko’s name. Significantly, a visit by Paul and Ringo found him relaxed and without animosity, but most of his three years in L.A. were pretty disastrous, and he undoubtedly saved his life by returning to NYC.

John returned to New York to straighten his life out and to work on “Walls and Bridges”. The music showed a considerable improvement. We hear John on a 1974 New York radio interview, in which he describes his continuing immigration hassles. But then, John and Yoko reconciled, around the same time that John got his green card, after a 4-1/2-year struggle. His years of faith in the American Dream having paid off, he set off on a new adventure after the birth of his son Sean. While Yoko took care of business, John became a house-husband and full-time father, roles which served to clean him up, settle his mind and body, and taught him to appreciate the more mundane aspects of life. (For example, we get a glimpse of him baking bread.)

Eventually, he realized he can be both father and musician, and set out to record “Double Fantasy,” which he conceived as an alternating showcase for himself and for Yoko. Yoko had always been a source of derision among rock fans, but David Geffen recalls that Lennon heard “Rock Lobster”, and decided the world was finally ready for her.There is a great deal of description of John’s working methods during that album by musicians Earl Slick, Andy Newmark, and Hugh McCracken, plus producer Jack Douglas and critic Robert Hilburn.

The story of Lennon’s murder is told with sirens, news footage, and Geffen’s and Yoko’s memories of how they learned of his death. It’s a story too-well-known, perhaps, to dwell on excessively here, but I found myself wanting more. What exactly I can’t tell you, just more.

Otherwise, there are very few mis-steps here. The interviews, with many people who knew and worked with John (including Elton John), are well-done, the balance of music, visuals, and information is satisfactory, and the whole production thoroughly professional, and certainly worthy of PBS standards. This is the sort of film that gives musical documentaries a good name.

115 minutes, no extras. A must-see.

“Sondheim! The Birthday Concert” (Image Entertainment)

2011-06-11T13:44:00.000-07:00

Stephen Sondheim has been such a dominant figure in the world of the American Musical Theater for so long, it’s hardly surprising that this concert honoring his 80th birthday (March 2010) would attract some of the finest and best-known artists who have graced the Broadway stage over the past forty or more years. After all, during that perplexing period when Broadway was overwhelmed by British (Andrew Lloyd Webber) and French (Claude-Michel Schoenberg) imports and “jukebox musicals”, in which a thin plot was written around a set of earlier hit songs, it was Stephen Sondheim who almost single-handedly kept the contemporary American-composed musical alive. Not only that, he did so by continually pushing the boundaries of what musical theater could sound like, and what it could express.

In the past few years, I’ve noticed a tendency among my American Music students to think of musical theater, past and present, as “America’s classical music”, whether referring to the innovative stylings of Michael John LaChiusa or the more populist writing of Frank Wildhorn. Certainly, in the eras of Gershwin, Porter, Rodgers, Loesser, Styne, et. al., “show tunes” were considered part of the Popular Music world. It seemed part of the natural order of things that the songs which were most popular on Broadway would soon become part of America’s shared pop-music repertoire. I would venture to say that Stephen Sondheim is more responsible than any other single figure for the revised perception of musicals as being more closely aligned with the world of “art music” than with pop. He did not set out to write “hit songs” deftly inserted into plays to attract attention and sell tickets. His musicals are instead full-blown art works, sometimes operatic in scope, sometimes conceived on a smaller scale. In either case, they are works in which songs carry the story forward or comment on specific events within the whole, set to music which is distinctive, intricate, and variegated. Although many jazz and cabaret singers have been known to include a few Sondheim songs into their repertoires, the number of bona-fide hit singles Sondheim musicals have produced since he began writing both words and music is one - “Send In The Clowns”. And that song is curiously absent from this concert.

This 80th birthday concert - originally produced for the PBS showcase series, “Great Performances” - was the brainchild of producer/director Lonny Price. It was presented before a highly enthusiastic audience - including the composer himself - at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York. In addition to a variety of some of the best-known figures on Broadway figures, including Patti Lupone, Audra McDonald, Donna Murphy, Mandy Patinkin, Bernadette Peters, and then-85-year-old Elaine Stritch, there are a number of other fine artists, both veterans and up-and-comers, most of whom have had some connection with Sondheim musicals. They are accompanied by no less than the New York Philharmonic, conducted by Sondheim’s long-time conductor, Paul Gemignani. Our guide to the proceedings is David Hyde Pierce (best-known as Niles on the sitcom “Frasier”, but certainly no stranger to the Broadway musical theater stage), hosting with typically Niles-ish deadpan humor. In a running gag, he pushes for multi-lingual versions of songs, and later sings “Beautiful Girls” from “Follies” in multiple languages.

Sondheim first gained fame in 1957, as Leonard Bernstein’s lyricist for “West Side Story”. The concert begins with a segment devoted to Sondheim’s career as a wordsmith, with a nicely staged ensemble version of “America” and “Something’s Coming”, sung by one of the aforementioned up-and-comers, who just happens to be the conductor’s son, Alexander Gemignani. (The material from “West Side Story” remains to this day among Sondheim’s most familiar.) Sondheim also wrote the lyrics for “Do I Hear A Waltz”, as well as one number for “Hot Spot”, written for the legendary Judy Holliday, and delivered here with humorous aplomb by 2005 Tony winner Victoria Clark.

Sondheim’s breakthrough decade of the 1970’s is well-represented by songs from “Company”, “A Little Night Music” and several each from “Follies” and “Sweeney Todd”, but none from the decidedly operatic “Pacific Overtures”. “Too Many Mornings”, sung by Audra McDonald and opera star Nathan Gunn, proves to be one of the highlights of the concert. Another highlight is a set of two songs from the 1984 play “Sunday In The Park With George”, performed by Mandy Patinkin and Bernadette Peters, two brilliant songs brilliantly performed, but which have no hit-making potential whatsoever, which is essentially the Stephen Sondheim story in a nutshell.

One of the most interesting segments presents the stars of the original productions reprising the songs they introduced to the world. Alas, John McMartin at age 80 is no longer the singer he was forty years ago in the debut of “Follies”. Chip Zien and Joanna Gleason introduced “it Takes Two” from “Into The Woods” much more recently (1987), and they still have the style and voices needed to make it work. Jim Walton, accompanying himself on piano, sings a song he never sang in the original production of “Merrily We Roll Along”, as the song was added to the score later.

Though most songs are presented with minimal staging, two members of the American Ballet Theatre dance beautifully to an instrumental theme Sondheim composed for the film “Reds”. (His songs for the movie version of “Dick Tracy” are not represented here.)

A bevy of divas in gorgeous red gowns comes onstage a final medley of Sondheim classics, though they never actually perform as a unit. Unit or not, Patti Lupone, Elaine Stritch, Donna Murphy, Audra McDonald, Bernadette Peters, and Marin Mazzie wow the crowd with dazzling performances that serve as textbook examples of how to sell theater songs to an audience. Ms. Stritch may not have the vocal range she once had, but she still has her trademark chutzpah, which she uses to deliver “I’m Still Here” from “Follies” with the power and conviction it requires.This could have well served as a finale, but producer Price had something even bigger and more dramatic in store for the celebration - a huge chorus of 287 performers from then-current Broadway productions promenading to the stage to sing “Sunday”, after which they they are joined by all the participants to sing “Happy Birthday” to the tearful composer, who comes onstage to receive a long and well-deserved ovation.

If you happened to already see this on PBS, you’ve probably already ordered your copy of the DVD. If not, I should mention that this is a well-presented document of a most memorable event. It gives due credit to a man whose impact on American musical theater will continue long into the future. If you wish to sample the music of a man who may indeed be definitively regarded as one of the great American composers whose music richly deserves the appellation “classical”, I heartily recommend this concert DVD.

“The Knights Of Fuzz: The Garage & Psychedelic Music Explosion 1980 To Now” (Dionysus Records)

2011-06-04T07:48:00.000-07:00

A short time ago, I reviewed the DVD “Romantic Warriors”, about modern-day progressive rock bands who are keeping alive the sounds of the cutting-edge rock of the 1970’s. It’s not too difficult to draw a parallel or two between that disc and this one, about bands who have kept alive the cutting-edge rock sounds of the 1960’s. True, the prog film is a documentary, while “The Knights Of Fuzz” is primarily a collection of music videos with added documentation. But both DVD’s celebrate musical artists who have continued to perform the types of music they wanted to play, long after their respective idioms ceased to have commercial potential, and who have stuck to their guns despite a lack of recognition outside of a small community of like-minded fans.

“The Knights Of Fuzz” carries a 2006 date, but is new to me and, I suspect, to most other people as well. It opens with a too-brief, ineffective stab at a short documentary, with pictures of neo-garage/psychedelic bands compared to the first wave of 60’s bands, with the caveat that we shouldn’t confuse the “hipsters” of the garage-band revival with the late-60’s “hippies”. The point is a valid one, as the sounds and visual images associated with most of the bands on this disc strike me as relating more to the mid-60’s garage bands and what some folks have tabbed the “garage-psych” era which served as a bridge between the first garage band and psychedelia, rather than full-blown psychedelia per se. Don’t look for Jefferson Airplane or Big Brother-type bands here; think Seeds and and Count Five instead. This mini-documentary intro also includes quick interview segments with 80’s band members. This opening section might have had more impact had it gone into greater informational depth. But that’s not really what this collection is about.

The great bulk - and real meat - of this set is the aforementioned music videos, the great bulk of which are by bands who proved to have no presence whatsoever on the national sales and airplay charts. Indeed, their music is so lovingly anachronistic, one might wonder why they would invest in making music videos which - in the pre-Youtube era - not a whole lot of people would have had the opportunity to ever see. (I would guess more were seen in clubs than on t.v.) Thank goodness, they did, though, as there are some real gems and no outright bummers here. These are bands whose level of success ranged from local-hero to underground cult status, not because they were in any way unworthy of success. It’s just that they simply chose to play an older style of music which was no longer fashionable. While one can instantly recognize these bands as being stylistically rooted in 60’s garage rock as a genre, there are very few outright imitations of specific records by specific bands. Even when one hears a riff or a tonal quality that one can finger as being derived from such-and-such by so-and-so, it will be followed a few seconds later by a different influence or an original concept. The key here is genre identity, not direct theft.

To those of us from Western New York, the “big name” here is the Chesterfield Kings from Rochester, who get the set started with “99th Floor”. It was recorded in 1983, but sounds so much like it should date from 1966, it’s uncanny. But that’s precisely the idea, and one which musically dominates the DVD, to the delight of anyone who might be attracted to the disc by its title.

Most of the videos are the original promo clips. But “You’ll Know Why”, by the Miracle Workers, a Portland, OR band with a “jangly” guitar sound, is a new production, constructed from vintage footage and a 1985 recording. I’m also very fond of “I’ve Seen You Walking” (1985) by Yard Trauma from Tucson. But then I’m abnormally fond of that old combo-organ sound, whether Vox, Farfisa, or wherever it may come from. Perhaps my favorite of all the 80’s videos is “Hey!” by the Gruesomes, essentially a garage-surf instrumental, aside from frequent shouting of the title. The band, which hailed from Montreal, put together a humorous Monkees-flavored video to go with this little gem. Occasionally, one hears a 70’s punk aggressiveness mixed in with the garage sound, as in The 10 Commandments’ “Not True”, from 1989.

The videos are mostly arranged chronologically, and continue on through the 90’s all the way to 2006. The Cynics, from Pittsburgh, doing a strong song written by Buffalo legend, Bernie Kugel, are one of the best-known bands here (along with the Fuzztones). Fortune & Maltese, from Michigan, have a Byrds-like vocal blend, but with more energetic guitars. Untamed Youth, from Columbia, MO, brought back the California hot-rod sound in 1990, adding a garage-style organ. Jonny Chan & The New Dynasty Six, from New York, also do a song called “Hey!” (not the same song), with a vocal that reminds me of Sky Saxon, but the band has no keyboards, which sets them apart from the Seeds; another example of a fresh approach to a recognizable influences.

Probably the most purely psychedelic band from a late-60’s perspective is Milwaukee’s Plasticland, seen live in 2001. Freddy & The Four-Gone Conclusions, from Detroit, bring back the Del Shannon sound in 2003. Their version of Shannon’s “Stand Up”, features a guest appearance by none other than keyboardist Max Crook, whose high-pitched solos on an early electronic instrument called the Musitron were such an important contribution to Del Shannon’s 60’s stardom. The Woggles, from Atlanta, 2004, are a real romp ‘em, stomp ‘em band with a hard-fuzz guitar sound and a singer who reminds me of a more conservative Van Morrison. Les Breastfeeders (i’m not making that name up), from Montreal, are the only band here singing in French, and once again strike me as close to late-70’s punk energy, but they’re not totally out-of-place. Timothy Gassen, who put this whole compilation together, is heard on the most recent track, by his band Marshmallow Overcoat, with a signal-splitting guitar sound reminiscent of the Electric Prunes, but with enough originality to keep it honest.

As if the 17 videos which make up the primary presentation weren’t enough to whet the appetite of the garage-band fan and rock historian alike, there is a ton of bonus features. On your home t.v., you can see three more videos, a live clip by pioneering garage-band revivalists, the Cheepskates; two exciting songs by the Vipers, rescued from an old video tape - the picture is tiny, but the music more than makes up for it; and an additional track by Marshmallow Overcoat, showing their versatility, as it’s in a very different vein from their previous one. There are some old audio-only spoken-word radio broadcasts. While I’m not sure of the importance of someone telling you who-was-playing-where-when 25 years ago, there are also a few interviews, including one with my late friend and mentor Greg Shaw.
For the rest of the features, you have to put the disk into your computer’s DVD-ROM drive. Mr. Gassen has generously reprinted the entire text of his 300-page book “Knights Of Fuzz”, which includes individual descriptions of hundreds of bands. An amazing amount of research and effort must have gone into this tome There are also loads of photos of album covers, a large collection of articles written by Gassen for obscure publications you simply won’t be able to find anymore, a handful of interviews (including Greg Shaw again), reviews, contributions from readers, and an excellent collection of mp3’s, some by bands seen on the video portion of the disc (though the songs are different), most by other bands, all of whom have something worthwhile to offer.

The “regular” video portion of this DVD would alone be worth the money. The material on the DVD-ROM is likewise worth the money in and of itself. Put the two together and you have one heck of a bargain. If you have any interest whatsoever in the topic - or simply think you might - this is a package deal you should not resist.

“This Time: A Music Documentary” (Inspiration 101)

2011-05-28T16:39:00.000-07:00

There is a sizeable market these days for watching up-and-comers as they try to “make it” in show business. From the 20-something pop singers of “American Idol” to the often more seasoned low-level pros of “The Voice”, to the high-school hopefuls fictionally portrayed on “Glee” or “Fame”, there is a lot of interest in singers on the way up. But what about those artists who at one did “make it”, whose careers peaked, then began the long slide down the path to obscurity, whether relatively or totally. In the chew-’em-up-and-spit-’em-out world of entertainment, there are too many performers who have enjoyed moments in the sun, who are every bit as talented (and far more worldly-wise) now as they were then, but who are desperately fighting to maintain or regain an audience.

“This Time” is a documentary by Victor Mignatti which traces the recent paths traveled by the once-famous soul vocal group, the Sweet Inspirations - who sang backups for some of the most beloved stars in show business during the 1960’s and into the ‘70’s - as they try to make a recording comeback; a less fabled, but still once-successful singer named Pat Hodges, well-known during the disco era as one-third of the vocal group Hodges, James and Smith; and a cabaret singer named Bobby Belfry, whose success as a cabaret singer in New York has yet to translate to national renown, but who is trying hard to reach the next rung on the ladder. Supplementing these stories is a look at record producer/songwriter/arranger Pietor Angell, who achieved a level of success writing musical scores for television, but who is also working to “make it” as a record producer, seen here working with the Sweet Inspirations and with Hodges.

What the general public doesn’t see when they blithely sit home and dial their phones to vote for a favorite contestant on a televised talent contest is the amount of hard work - the sometimes metaphorical, but often literal blood-sweat-and-tears - the sheer struggle that performers go through in the process of attempting to attain their dreams. The key word here is “attempt”. For every contestant for whom the chairs turn around on “The Voice”, there are far more who have put in many years of paying dues that never got them much further than the first audition. To go through all that it takes to get to any realistic level of success, to finally break through to the charts or the television screens, and then to have that flurry of big-time visibility last only a few fleeting moments must be as heartbreaking as not to make it at all. This is a cruel business, and yet so many people devote so many of their most productive years to it. This DVD spares the feelings of none of its participants in its merciless portrayal of the killing fields of the record biz.

The Sweet Inspirations sang backgrounds on hit recordings by Dionne Warwick - the group‘s original soloist, Cissy Houston, is not only the mother of Whitney Houston, but also Dionne Warwick’s aunt - Aretha Franklin, Dusty Springfield, and others. They had their own chart hits, including a Top 20 song called “Sweet Inspiration” in 1968. They toured with Elvis Presley for many years, as warm-up act and backing singers. But following Elvis’ death, the group lost most of their momentum. When we see them here - in segments apparently filmed about nine-ten years ago, the group consisted of two members from their their hit period (Myrna Smith and Estelle Brown) plus a third singer, Portia Griffin, who joined in 1994. The group was able to maintain a professional standing by touring with Elvis tribute artists (which I believe the current edition of the group still does). At least they have that to fall back on. But when this footage was shot, it had been well over 20 years since they recorded an album. In the eyes of the what-have-you-done-for-me-lately music business, they essentially had to start their recording career all over again, under the auspices of writer/producer Angell.

The “Sweets” sound absolutely wonderful during the recording session that opens the film. We see them adding harmonized “ah-oops” to a previously recorded track. We don’t hear the rest of the song at first, just their voices blending to sing a syllable or two every now and then. This is, of course, the normal way the overdubbing process used to “sweeten” basic tracks works, yet there’s something a bit disconcerting, even humorous about hearing these disembodied three-part vocal shoops out of context. Nevertheless, when we get to hear the whole thing mixed together, it becomes clear just how skillfully the Sweets can sing backgrounds that make absolutely perfect sense in the finished product. The skill of the producer is to know when that level of “perfect sense” and appropriateness is achieved, and Pietor Angell certainly has the ears for the job.

But making it in show-biz is not just about vocal talent and solid production, it’s also about image. The Sweet Inspirations of 2002 are no longer young, glamorous women, yet it behooves them to give them the illusion that they are still just that. Thus, we see scenes of them shopping for stage wigs and posing for a promotional photo shoot. By the time the transformation is finished, they look every bit as slick as they sound, almost becoming different people than the three aging women we see offstage. But a later studio session goes much less smoothly, and a great deal of soul-searching and discussions with Angell are needed for the project to regain its footing. Former long-time member Sylvia Shemwell, who had been forced to leave the group fairly recently due to a stroke which left her unable to talk, is brought in to bolster everyone’s spirits (she died in 2010). Another project reunites them with Cissy Houston - whom we first see directing a gospel choir (her main role in music in recent years) - who still sings beautifully. But the latter project is mistakenly released under Houston’s name, with lesser billing to the Sweets. That mistake is eventually corrected, but Angell’s producer credit is permanently excised. There are many problems encountered at many steps along the way, and the album is released without any commercial impact. Realistically, none was expected. Sadly, if the Sweet Inspirations ever do mount a major comeback, they will have to do so without Myrna Smith, who has passed away since the film’s completion. The group continues on.

But the Sweets’ lack of a comeback does not put them out on the streets. When we first meet Pat Hodges, on the other hand, she is indeed homeless. Hodges, James and Smith had a few hits, yes, but the group disintegrated under the tyrannical control of former Motown producer William “Mickey” Stevenson. Very little came of Hodges’ career after that, despite her obvious surfeit of talent. Pietor Angell tries to put her life back on track, and indeed does produce a few hits on the club charts for the singer. But having a successful hit on the club charts does not necessarily translate into fat royalty checks. At one point, Angell reflects that the DJ’s are the stars in the clubs, not the artists, even though the DJ’s aren’t the performers on the records.
Hodges has the vocal power and all the right tools, but she suffers from a serious weight problem. Angell makes sure she works out with a trainer to ward off future health problems. But eventually, Hodges loses her fire. She appreciates all Angell has tried to do for her, but as the money fails to materialize, her enthusiasm for a comeback waxes and wanes. Her sessions sound fine, her live performances are of more variable quality, and she holds her own in a meeting with the Sweet Inspirations, but her desire diminishes. At at the time of the film’s release, her album remained uncompleted.

All of the artist’s stories are told chronologically, but are intertwined. One can hear a genre affiliation between the Sweets’ and Pat Hodges’ respective vocal styles, so only a minor disconnect occurs when one artist’s segment gives way to the next. Besides, the two acts share a common producer, which brings a certain continuity to the four women’s segments.The film’s most serious flaws, however, come when the gospel/r&b-rooted singers make way for the episodes in the life of the cabaret singer. Bobby Belfry is a pleasant performer and a likable enough fellow, but his style - combining elements of jazz, adult contemporary and Broadway - is too much of a contrast with the other artists. His story is worth telling, to be sure, but it seems to me - and this is solely my personal opinion, one which director Mignatti quite obviously disagrees with - that either Belfry belongs in a different film altogether, or else the artists’ stories should have been told separately, without trying to jump from one to the other. The film’s focus seems to ebb a bit whenever Belfry comes on, which is not his fault. He’s just a very different type of artist. Perhaps Mignatti felt the need to contrast someone who was never famous, but feels he should be (which appears to be more a matter of self-confidence than egotism), with those artists who were once famous and want to be again. I might also add that, to my ears, enjoyable though Belfry’s light-voiced renditions are, his most promising talent is as a songwriter, who should be writing for musical theater - which, of course, is a minefield in itself. Interestingly, the longer Belfry’s segment goes on, the less frustrated he seems to be with his lot as a singing bartender who has earned considerable respect, though not a wide audience. (A glimpse at his website, after my first draft of this review, indicates he has indeed begun to write for theater. Good luck, Bobby!)

By the end of the film, Angell, having done about all he can with the Sweets and Pat Hodges, begins applying his production and writing skills to his own project - tabbed Monte Carlo and his Orchestra with singer Kristi Rose. Based on the brief sample we’re given, I wish them luck as well.

There’s a historically significant bonus feature on the disc - 32 minutes of informal reminiscences by Myrna Smith and Estelle Brown on their experiences during their Golden Era, mostly with Elvis, but also with Aretha and Dionne.

“This Time” is certainly a worthwhile entry into the singers-hoping-to-better-establish-their-positions documentary arena. By examining artists who were once renowned and who are trying to reach something resembling their former status once again, the film looks at this concept of “making it” from a fresh perspective, which makes it well worth seeing. Fans of fine soul singing will find this disc to be of particular interest.

“Bob Dylan Revealed” (MVD)/”Dont Look Back” (Docurama Blu-Ray)

2011-05-24T16:11:00.000-07:00

There has been a spate of new and re-issued books, DVD’s, and CD’s released of late in conjunction with Bob Dylan’s 70th birthday, which should come as no surprise. After all, few artists in any field of music have been as carefully documented, analyzed, theorized, interpreted, gossiped about, adored, reviled, you name it, as has been Bob Dylan. Any anniversary or milestone is bound to lead to even newer and - one hopes- fresher interpretations as they come along. But as for now, here are two contributions to this year’s Bob Dylan hagiography.

“Bob Dylan Revealed” is the latest offering from Dylan tribute artist and film documentarian Joel Gilbert, his fourth Dylan film to date. As with many unauthorized biographically-oriented DVD’s, it has some film footage and a lot of interviews with various people of interest, but no music by the subject of the film himself. This is sometimes a problem, but in this case, we already know the music, so it’s really not needed. When I classify it as “biographically-oriented”, I don’t intend to imply that it is a straightforward, year-by-year recounting of every significant thing that happened in Dylan’s life. Rather, it focuses on a few events which Gilbert finds particularly illuminating in his quest to further understand Dylan, his music, and his career.

The film opens in 1962, as photographer Barry Feinstein (who took the cover shots of a number of Dylan albums, as well as other well-known images) recalls seeing Dylan in Greenwich Village. He recalls that it was hard to make out the lyrics, but he already felt this early that he was “in the company of somebody very important.” Later in the film, he talks about the 1974 tour, focusing on the circumstances under which certain pictures were taken.

We then switch to drummer Mickey Jones’ reminiscences of playing with The Band as Dylan’s backup band. Jones bristles at the suggestion that Dylan turned electric “for the money” (a common accusation at the time), pointing that out that the switch in musical style actually cost him quite a lot of money. When an interviewer asks if he was trying to deliver a message in his songs or was simply entertaining, Dylan replies that he was just entertaining. Jones says Dylan rarely did straight interviews, that he liked to play games. But the clips suggest that the interviewers took him seriously, even when it was obvious that he was joking. There is a great deal more evidence of this in “Don’t Look Back”, but it’s interesting to hear this from someone who was there. Jones also offers rare candid home-movie footage from international tours. He says the electric material was not well received anywhere in the world. He also discusses the infamous “Judas!” shout, and says it was not Dylan himself who gave the instruction to “play f***ing loud” at the Manchester concert, both of which have became part of Dylan lore.

Scarlet Rivera, the violinist who was so much beloved by Dylan fans of the 1970’s, and bassist Rob Stoner talk about recording the “Desire” LP, as well as the Rolling Thunder Revue. Claudia Levy identifies a particular French film as the inspiration for the makeup during that tour, while Ramblin’ Jack Elliott chimes in on the tour also.

One of the pleasant surprises (to me) is the amount of space devoted to a jovial Rubin “Hurricane” Carter, who freely discusses the circumstances of his arrest and the role of Bob Dylan‘s song and benefit concerts in his subsequent release. He also offer a suggestion as to why Joni Mitchell was booed at a prison concert.

Rob Stoner and Joel Selvin talk about the 1978 World Tour, which featured updated arrangements (concocted by members of the band, rather than Dylan himself) of the old hits Dylan preferred not to sing anymore, at the behest of a Japanese promoter.It was this tour by “the big band” with its Vegas-style arrangements, that caused Dylan to be saddled with a reputation as a slick, show-biz entertainer, modeled at least in part on Neil Diamond’s performing style.

Perhaps the most cryptic, still controversial turn in Dylan’s career came when he was “born again” under the aegis of Pastor Bill Dwyer of the Vineyard Christian Fellowship Church. Director Gilbert wisely allows Dwyer to give his side of the story without interference, though I doubt it will satisfy many viewers. Dwyer says Dylan first approached him (many have assumed it was the other way around) in a period of crisis. Famed producer Jerry Wexler (who passed away in 2008) relates how he happily agreed to produce “Slow Train Coming” without knowing the lyric content of the album. He also claims to have contributed the oft-derided “Zimmy” line to “Gotta Serve Somebody”. Selvin discusses the strong negative reaction to Dylan’s Christian concert in San Francisco, intercut with angry comments from fans as they walked out. Selvin believed the music itself was solid, but that Dylan’s preaching from the stage (some of it heard here) and the single-focus on gospel lyrics turned people off.

Long-time self-styled “Dylanologist” A. J. Weberman believes Dylan returned to Judaism because he felt “used” by the Christian movement. We get to see an unexpected glimpse of Dylan at a Chassidic telethon, wearing a yarmulke, playing a recorder in back of a couple Jewish folksingers, and soliciting donations. Must be seen to be believed. (As I think of it, this may be the only musical performance by Dylan in the film.)

In 1992, Dylan launched the Never Ending Tour, which is recalled by drummer Winston Watson, who is dumbfounded that Dylan gave him no indication of what he wanted him to play. He also shares a few observations about Dylan’s performing style and fan reaction.

The film runs 1 hour, 52 minutes. There are no extras, but none are necessary. The disc will probably appeal more to hard-core fans and pop-culture historians rather than to casual fans. You know who you are.

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One film that should be seen by everyone - though hard-core fans and historians already have it in their collections on DVD, no doubt - is the Blu-Ray reissue of D. A. Pennebaker’s film “Dont Look Back” (sic; no apostrophe in the first word). Indeed, it has been so highly regarded for so long that one is tempted to believe it doesn’t even need a review, that it will pretty much sell itself. But if there’s anything that teaching popular music history courses on the University level has taught me, it’s that younger generations’ knowledge of what we old-timers consider to be classics is spotty at best. One cannot automatically assume that everyone out there is familiar with classic 1960’s-era Dylan, much less Pennebaker’s film on the subject. Thus, a review is in order.

Even if you haven’t seen the complete film, you may well be familiar with the opening sequence, as it has been referenced in many other documentaries and websites (including, of course, Youtube). While “Subterranean Homesick Blues” is playing on the soundtrack, Dylan displays, then discards one by one, cue cards of significant words in the song, eventually reaching the point where the cards and the lyrics don’t fully synch up. This is a playful Dylan, having fun with words and their meaning, an image very much unlike the dour, ultra-serious-protest Dylan the media liked to portray. That side of Dylan is much in evidence throughout this documentary filmed during Dylan’s 1965 English tour. But the playful Dylan is perhaps even more in evidence when the people he’s interacting with aren’t in on the joke. Thus, we see interviewers trying to hang on to his every word, as if he were giving them straight and significant answers, even when it should have been obvious that he wasn’t. We might, however, question his playfulness of intent when we see Dylan angrily stalking other interviewers, browbeating one prospective young interviewer who tries to out-argue him. Likewise, Dylan virtually attacks a “Time Magazine” journalist, insisting that what “Time” prints is facts, but not “the truth”, so why should he tell this reporter anything? He also tells the “Time “ man that he’s as good a singer as Caruso. Whether Dylan believes what he’s telling these two fellows is less important in the long run than their reactions to him, which are better seen than described.

In all, this is a candid portrait of Dylan at a crucial juncture in his career, just as he was becoming famous enough to attract young teen girls in the streets below his hotel room, shouting up to him as if he were already a “rock star”. Nevertheless, his performances during this tour were strictly solo-acoustic, which would very shortly change. We see footage of significant concert performances (including a memorable rendering of “The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll”). But we also see Dylan backstage and in vehicles, interacting with musicians such as Alan Price, the other Animals, Joan Baez, John Mayall (briefly), a very young and naive Donovan, and classic old folkie Derroll Adams (an American performer who settled in England, and has subsequently been largely forgotten in his homeland). These interactions are sometimes informal musical duets/jams, at other times simply conversational. Even so, they open Dylan up to the scrutiny of the world, removing much of the mysticism that surrounded his image during this period. In other words, we meet a human Bob Dylan, not a near-deity.

We also get insight into Albert Grossman, Dylan’s fabled and often controversial manager. We see the prickly, profane side of Albert Grossman, to be sure, but we also witness Grossman the shrewd negotiator, who clearly has his client’s best interests at heart, and has a finagler’s way of achieving his goals. Dylan’s faithful road manager, Bob Neuwirth, comes off as an almost-constant presence as well, a stabilizing influence in a pressure-filled life. But even he has a difficult time holding Dylan back when the singer has a confrontation with a guest in his hotel room over a glass thrown on the street, a scene I find oddly discomfiting to watch.

The picture quality of “Dont Look Back” is grainy black-and-white, certainly a far cry from the Hi-Def we’ve come to associate with Blu-Ray discs. Nonetheless, the quality is probably as good as you can hope for until the next technological breakthrough comes along. Four-and-a-half decades later, “Dont Look Back” holds up amazingly well as one of the finest, most intimate, most forthright glimpses into the life of any major creative figure. It has served as the model for countless films, PBS specials, and VH1 portraits to follow. But the original cinema verite music documentary is still the classic of the genre.

There is a veritable plethora of extras. There are five audio-only bonus performances recorded on the tour; an insightful conversation between Pennebaker (who no longer sports his once-famed top hat) and Greil Marcus about specific aspects of the film; an alternate take of the cue-card segment, in which Ginsberg is more visible in the background; and a trailer for the film which is, in essence, merely the cue-card segment once again. I was unable to access the commentary track with Grossman and Neuwirth, despite numerous attempts.

The most substantial extra, however, is an hour-plus DVD (not Blu-Ray) of the companion film to “Dont Look Back”, entitled “65 Revisited”, which Pennebaker fashioned from outtakes of the original film. In some cases, this is material which seemed less important in 1967 (when “Dont Look Back” was first released) than it does in retrospect. But there are also some excellent performances which are well worth disseminating, and more insights into the participants (which include Nico this time around), as well as more shots of Dylan composing at the piano. Particularly welcome are an energetic concert clip of “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right” and a fine performance of “She Belongs To Me”. The film ends with a rather awkward version of the cue-card sequence on a windy rooftop, with producer Tom Wilson replacing Ginsberg. This bonus disc also has its own commentary track - which I’m happy to say I was able to access - in which Pennebaker and Neuwirth discuss how individual scenes were filmed, etc. “65 Revisited” never reaches the.lofty heights of “Dont Look Back”, but it’s well worth viewing. And it’s certainly appropriate to have the two films in one package.

“Romantic Warriors: A Progressive Music Saga” (Zeitgeist Media)

2011-05-21T14:49:00.000-07:00

Ah, yes, progressive rock - Yes, King Crimson, Genesis during the Peter Gabriel era, ELP. Great stuff back in the 1970’s. But then it petered out, disappearing for all time, never to be heard from again, right?

Not exactly. True, the perceptions most people seem to have of prog-rock is that it was either a moment of glory that was too good to last, or an aberration in the history of rock that went on much too long, depending on one’s personal tastes and open-mindedness. But, as this new documentary readily demonstrates, prog is not only still with us, with hundreds of bands still playing and furthering the music’s artistic capabilities, it is thriving every way except commercially. It is a refreshing examination of an underground music scene built around musicians who are perfectly aware that they’re not on an easy path to fame and fortune, but who continue to play and experiment with the types of music they love because it’s what THEY want to do, not what the suits who run the record industry want them to do.

I am reviewing this off a screener disc of an hour-long edit of the film, which has just begun to appear on Public Television stations across the country, with more stations to be added in the near future. There is also a 95-minute home-DVD version for sale on the producers’ website, http://www.progdocs.com/ProgDocs/BUY_DVD.html I’m unable to tell you what the differences are between the commercial version and the PBS edition, but since this is very much a “good thing”, more of it can only be better. Anyone who loved the Golden Era of prog-rock in its ‘70’s heyday, and has pined for the ”old days” should find either version to be of great interest.

Fans of 70’s prog should likewise be pleased to learn that the creative, experimental spirit of the music is still a major feature of the current crop of bands. We are told early on that the main focus of the American prog scene is along the East Coast, and in fact much of the action was filmed in Baltimore, Bethlehem, PA (at the “Nearfest” festival), and Chapel Hill, NC (at “Prog Day”). But we also learn that Europe and Latin America have remained hotbeds of the music as well. Thus, we get to meet not only a number of American bands (not all from the Eastern US), but also bands from Italy, Sweden, and Mexico. Short performance clips are a highlight of the film. (I actually would have preferred them to be longer, and perhaps there are longer clips on the DVD version; one can only introduce so much unfamiliar music by unfamiliar bands in an hour-long overview.) Names such as D.F.A., Deluge Grandeur, and Cabezas De Cera may mean little to most people (I confess the latter two are new names to me as well), but they are very active gigging and recording bands just waiting their turn to be discovered. And this film is the very means by which fans of classic prog-rock can begin to discover the current crop of bands.

The beginning of the film also offers a brief history of prog dating back to the 1960’s and through the decades since, a section which could be expanded greatly. The long lists of bands from each era and geographical area goes by pretty quickly (get ready to hit the pause button!), and is printed in a size that’s awfully small for many of us aging music lovers. With any luck, this historical overview will be the subject of another film to come. The only participant from the classic-prog era to be directly involved in this film is Gentle Giant guitarist Gary Green, who expresses pride in the fact that there are many bands still carrying on the legacy of Gentle Giant and their 70’s cohorts. And indeed, .Gentle Giant, King Crimson, Soft Machine, and Emerson, Lake and Palmer strike me as the original-prog bands who hold the greatest sway over the current bands spotlighted here. One other observation - much of the current prog would seem to fit in very easily with the jazz-rock fusion scene, had the fusion scene stuck to its original guns - along the lines of, say, Return To Forever - instead of degenerating into commercial/pop and eventually smooth-jazz. I would suggest fans of classic late-60’s/early-70’s jazz-rock should tune in to the PBS showings of the film. They might well discover a few things of interest here. (It is worth noting that a few of the interviewees refer to prog in more general terms, as “progressive music” rather than “progressive rock”).

Along with the performance clips, there are quite a few interview clips with musicians discussing their art, entrepreneurs (record-label operators, club/concert/festival promoters), and media people, all of whom stress, if not always quite so blatantly, the crucially significant point that prog is not a musical genre which will make anyone rich in 2011. This is a scene for people who believe in what they are doing, whose goal is to push their art into ever-newer directions. It is, then, a scene for dreamers, albeit people whose musical dreams and aspirations do not include wealth and world-wide renown. In a world filled with Lady Gagas and Katy Perrys (the sort of pop stars whom Gary Green argues aren’t involved with music at all, but “fashion”), the modern-day prog artist is just that - an artist - and a highly creative one at that.

Be sure to catch this when it shows on your local PBS station. You may well be back for the complete DVD.

“Derailroaded: Inside The Mind Of Larry ‘Wild Man’ Fischer” (MVD)

2011-05-15T16:46:00.000-07:00

In the 43 years since the release of the Frank Zappa-produced double-LP, “An Evening With Wild Man Fischer”, people have reacted to Larry Fischer in many different ways. Many folks have simply laughed off the man and his music as a bad joke, as if he were just another sick stand-up comic whose schtick went on far too long. Many others hear his shout-laden vocals and shake their heads in “turn that thing off” disgust. A few people - including many well-regarded musicians and critics - have treated him as a misunderstood and seriously under-appreciated genius. The general public, of course, remains blissfully unaware of him at all, and would most likely reject him if they did somehow happen to stumble across his recordings.

But after watching this unexpectedly well-done documentary - unexpected in part because Fischer is such a minor figure in the history of rock music that it’s surprising any documentary exists at all, but also in part because of the care and comprehensiveness with which the production team known as the Ubin Twins approached their subject - it strikes me that Fischer is neither someone to be laughed at nor someone to be saddled with a genius label that he could never hope to live up to. Larry Fischer is, as the blurb on the front of the DVD case would have it a “Manic Depressive. Paranoid Schizophrenic. Rock Legend.”

Larry Fischer is still alive, but not well. It’s tempting to speak of his “Wild Man” Fischer persona in the past tense, because it seems extremely unlikely that he will ever perform in public again; more on that later. There is nothing particularly “funny” or “comedic” about a seriously mentally person baring his naked emotions in public. He may seem humorous when heard on records, but the Ubins make the viewer painfully aware that there was a very tortured soul and damaged mind behind the “weirdness” of Wild Man Fischer. For those who may be unfamiliar with his work, Fischer wrote odd little songs, which he would sing to passersby on the streets of Los Angeles, charging them a dime to hear a swear-to-God-it’s-original song. Many of these songs were more like short snippets of lyric and melody, which often had the potential to be developed further into full-length songs, though he apparently felt satisfied with them in what sounds to me like an unfinished state. But they are, when all is said and done, the products of a manic-depressive paranoid-schizophrenic. That DVD-cover blurb is fact, not just a way to sell discs. He has indeed been institutionalized at certain points in his life, and the diagnosis is real, not imagined.

At their best, Fischer’s songs are honest, heartfelt expressions of a mentally ill man’s authentic thoughts and feelings, showing creative turns of phrase and set to simple, often semi-spoken melodies. His delivery of these songs is that of a man with an untrained voice, filled with passion, sometimes crying out in misery, at other times overflowing with an enthusiasm and energy that more controlled singers could never hope to attain. He expresses his emotions by shouting out individual words or short passages, often at unpredictable moments. I can understand the temptation to credit him as a genius, because his songs and singing -inconsistent though they be - are unique and sometimes quite touching, as if every fiber of his being is contained in these songs and shouts. It is difficult not to be moved when he sings of being “derailroaded” (his way of saying ”derailed”), being pushed off his intended show-business career track by the machinations of a corrupt record industry. In true paranoiac fashion, his suspicious mind believes everyone - even those relatively few people who have tried to help him - are out to get him at every turn. It’s no secret that elements of the commercial record industry are corrupt, but (a) he is not being singled out for special punishment, and (b) his failure to become as famous as he sometimes claims to be, or as wealthy as he feels he should be, has more to do with the fact that he performs his songs in a manner which few people in the mainstream audience would find appealing than it does with music-biz rip-offs.

The Ubin Twins - Josh Rubin is credited as Director, Jeremy Lubin as producer; I suspect there was no such clear-cut division of labor while the film was being made - originally envisioned this project as encompassing a number of schizophrenic rock stars, including Daniel Johnston, Wesley Willis, and Roky Erickson. But someone else was filming a documentary on Johnston, Wesley Willis passed away, and it became abundantly clear to the Ubins that Fischer had a fascinating enough story to justify a feature-length (86 minutes) film of his own. They uncovered a great deal of footage of Fischer on the streets, performing before audiences, and living his daily life, going as far back as the pre-Zappa era. They were granted permission to include Fischer’s appearance on “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In” (previously known through an almost unwatchable Youtube clip).They interviewed a tremendous range of Fischer’s friends, associates, and supporters. Frank Zappa had unfortunately died several years before the Ubins developed their interest in Fischer, but his widow Gail Zappa is here. Mark Mothersbaugh of Devo, Dr. Demento, Weird Al Yankovic, Solomon Burke (who gave Larry Fischer the “Wild Man” appellation) all add their insights. Most significantly, Bill Mumy (whose name Fischer consistently mispronounces as if it were spelled “Mummy”, rather than the correct way, “Moo-mee”) and Bob Haimer (a/k/a Art and Artie Barnes) - better known as Barnes & Barnes, under which name they not only recorded the classic “Fish Heads”, but also produced two albums for Fischer - talk openly about their love for and difficulties working with Larry Fischer.

Further insights come from Larry’s long-suffering brother, David Fischer, his aunt Josephine, with whom Larry was living while much of the film was being made, the highly respected Princeton Clinical Psychology Professor Dr. Louis Sass, Howard Bronson of Rhino Records (whose first release as a label was Fischer’s song about Rhino’s L.A. record store), comix artist Dennis Eichhorn (co-author of the graphic novel “The Legend of Wild Man Fischer”), and Irwin Chusid, the world’s great expert on “outsider music”. Fischer virtually typifies the “outsider” genre, which is populated by amateur singers and songwriters who believe they are doing fine, solid, acceptable work, but who are so far outside the mainstream that they don’t necessarily understand why the mainstream doesn’t accept them. And there are lengthy interviews and candid shots of Larry Fischer himself, letting us see straight through to his inner core.

This film was first shown on the Festival circuit about a half-dozen years ago. The Wild Man Fischer we see in 2004 is an old man (looking much older than 60), lost, still bitter about his lot in life. We learn at the very end of the film that he has entered a home where he has been put back on medication. The meds have calmed him, the home provides a shelter and food, so his needs are being taken care of in many ways he neglected to take care of himself. Then, the saddest words in the entire movie come on the screen - He has “lost the pep”, the enthusiasm which may have been his most endearing aspect as a performer. He is still Larry Fischer, but he is no longer “Wild Man” Fischer. Sad, yes. But the fact that he may have found something resembling peace may be as close as the film could ever have to a “happy ending”.

The DVD is jam-packed with extras. There are outtakes, a trailer, performances (including Weird Al singing Fischer’s signature tune, “Merry-Go-Round”), an overlong interview with the late X-rated comedian and action-movie star Rudy Ray Moore (who had no knowledge of Fischer’s work or mental condition, but thought he showed potential as a novelty singer). There are two commentary tracks, one in which the Ubin Twins discuss how the film came together, a second one of telephone conversations with Fischer. The first is quite interesting, the second strikes me as uncomfortably exploitative. There is also a four-page booklet of reflections by director Josh Rubin.

I can’t imagine anyone with an interest in Wild Man Fischer living without this DVD. I doubt it will make many new converts to the man’s music, but it is worth seeing by anyone with an interest in the relationship between the arts and mental conditions.

“Raga: A Film Journey Into The Soul Of India” (East Meets West Music)

2011-04-17T15:52:00.000-07:00

This is the DVD release of a 1971 documentary on Ravi Shankar, originally released by Apple Films under the auspices of George Harrison. It has, in a sense, been superseded by a number of other documentaries which have brought the artist’s story up-to-date. Nevertheless, this is s splendid portrait of a unique historical period, a time when it looked as if Indian and Western culture would blend together in new and - we thought - permanent ways. Alas, it never quite happened in the way many of us who watched the 1960’s unfold hoped it would. And the answer as to why the anticipated fusion of East and West never fully materialized may be found right here in this film, in the images of director Howard Worth and the words of Ravi Shankar himself.

Watching this film with 40 years of hindsight available to us, it is fascinating to see what has changed in the bi-cultural world which Ravi Shankar occupied, and what has not. A number of scenes of Indian culture which are not directly related to Ravi Shankar and/or the Hindustani classical arts typified by the musical phenomenon known as the “raga” are included, to give us an idea of a traditional way of life in India which Shankar felt was dying. To be sure, urban India has been altered irrevocably by Western-influenced, technology-driven modernization, but the traditional culture has not fully disappeared by any means. Western culture, as represented here by the “hippie” subculture which embraced Ravi Shankar’s music, even though most its members failed to understand what that music was really all about, has changed, and some of us mourn those changes. Our tolerance for “outsiders” has dwindled. Our eagerness to embrace the new, the spiritual, the transcendant is no longer as strong an impulse as it once was. Our understanding of how the arts function as a vital part of a rational life is under constant assault. In an odd way, it is the scenes of America, focusing on Ravi Shankar’s visit to his school of Indian music in California, that look dated to us now, not the scenes of life in India.

In essence, this is - and always has been - a movie about music and a very special musician, and in that sense it succeeds admirably. The performances by Ravi Shankar and his long-time tabla player Alla Rakha (who is very much the film’s co-star), excerpted throughout the film, are substantial and satisfying. At one point, we even get to see the two friends delighting students by chanting the bols, the mnemonic, rhythmically-recited syllables used as a learning device by Indian percussionists, which have now become a performance art in their own right.

We also get to see Ravi Shankar in teaching mode, passing on his wisdom to hopeful young Hindustani musicians-in-training through the time-honored method of oral transmission, favored for centuries in India over our reading-off-the-page method of music education. We also see a rehearsal, in which Shankar prepares an orchestra for a Bombay recording session (film soundtrack?), The ensemble consists of both Western and Hindustani instruments, including violins, flutes, sitars, tabla, and such less rarely encountered (by Western devotees of Hindustani music, at least) as the santoor (a hammered dulcimer) and jal-tarang (a series of ceramic bowls tuned with varying amounts of water and struck with wooden sticks). We also see Shankar and his great friend, the American-born, English-based classical violinist Yehudi Menuhin, rehearsing and performing onstage one of their “West Meets East” collaborations. Other traditional musicians are heard on the soundtrack, as well as Vedic chanters. So there is a great deal to listen to and absorb over the course of an hour-and-a-half-plus.

There is also a lot to see. The scenes of India are beautifully shot, whether during a train journey, in the midst of big-city bustle, or along the Ganges. The visuals are so well-done that portions of this film could be used for travelog purposes, while the footage of American rock festivals could fit into historical documentaries of the late 60’s/early 70’s. The film ends with Shankar walking along a rocky coastline - presumably in California? - that is quite stunning.

But the narration by Shankar is what makes the most significant impression on the viewer by the end of the film. He tells us how it was his hope since the days of his youth, spent as a dancer/musician with his brother Uday’s internationally touring dance troupe, to introduce the beauties of Indian classical music to audiences in the West. His reception by Western audiences, beginning tentatively in the 1950’s and accelerating throughout the 1960’s, seemed to be the culmination of his dreams - “To be received like this in a foreign land; my God, it is overwhelming”. But then disillusionment began to set in. The object of his desire was to broach the gap between Western and Eastern classical music forms. The interest in his music engendered in the world of pop music, thanks largely to George Harrison - this film is the source of now-Youtube-famous clip of the sitar lesson which Shankar gives to Harrison - was not something Shankar could have predicted. However, the use of the sitar and other Indian elements in the pop/rock world in the late 1960’s proved to be superficial at best, exotic sounds inserted into rock hits with no real understanding or attempt to truly bring together the two musical worlds. (Some of Harrison’s work being the closest exceptions.)

Perhaps even more disheartening was the fact that Americans who did claim to be serious about learning Indian music proved to be far too impatient, unwilling to devote themselves to years of study under one teacher. Indian music takes years of hard, serious work to master. Shankar describes the arduous process of learning from a musical guru, and the amount of devotion the student must lavish on his/her musical studies. It was not something that could be absorbed quickly. Too many of his American acolytes were “in such a hurry” to become instant geniuses, as it were. In a field in which years of concentrated study were not a luxury, but a necessity, Shankar found that many of his American students would “learn a few scales, and in a few weeks they want to play a raga completely. They have to demand more of themselves.” He adds, “You cannot simply pick up a sitar and call it Indian music. It is so much more.” Director Worth tries to illustrate Shankar’s disillusionment and confusion, coupled with Americans’ misunderstandings and impatience, by constructing a quick-cut, speeded-up collage metaphorically depicting the clash of Indian and American cultures. It may have been exciting to watch forty years ago, in the pre-MTV era. But to me, Shankar’s words carry far more impact than Worth’s rather gimmicky, ultimately pointless, pseudo-psychedelic collage.

As history has shown us, Shankar would soon retreat from the world of rock festivals, the company of people who felt that the consumption of illicit drugs was a vital part of the process of enlightenment, the hustle and bustle of the popular music scene. He has devoted the years since the initial release of this film to composition (including film scores and orchestral works), performances before sympathetic audiences, teaching in universities and selected students such as his daughter and eventual musical successor, Anoushka Shankar, and overseeing the establishment of Ravi Shankar Foundation, which is dedicated to continuing his mission of preserving and disseminating Indian music to the world. (The East Meets West Music label which issued this DVD is a division of the Foundation.)

As a bonus, the package includes a download card for a CD’s worth of mp3’s of the film’s soundtrack. Unlike some such cards packaged with CD’s or DVD’s, I had no problem at all obtaining this material. It should be noted that, while most of the music has been scored or performed by Ravi Shankar, the closing credits include a listing for “additional music and score by Collin Walcott”. Walcott, who died in 1984, was one of Shankar’s more serious American students. One of his most notable accomplishments was helping to expand the use of the sitar and tablas long after the “craze” was over, in his work with the Paul Winter Consort and the pioneering world-jazz quartet Oregon. It should be noted that the other members of Oregon are also listed among the participating musicians in the film. The soundtrack mp3’s include most of the film’s music, plus a couple spoken comments on the nature of Indian music by Ravi Shankar.

Anyone interested in Ravi Shankar will most definitely want/need to see this important film, which is far more than simply a relic of a particular place and time. It will also appeal greatly to anyone who wants to better understand the psychedelic era and its flirtation with Eastern cultures. The East Meets West label is distributed by Harmonia Mundi, and should not be difficult to find.

“Down Home Music: A Journey Through The Heartland 1963” (Arhoolie Foundation)

2011-03-30T16:42:00.000-07:00

Now THIS is a treat, musically and, perhaps even more so, historically.

In 1963, a German documentarian named Dietrich Wawzyn came to the US with the thought of filming “famous jazz musicians”. Fortunately for posterity, he had only a somewhat vague idea of who and what he was looking for, as well as an open mind towards the many non-jazz musical riches he did find. Thankfully, he had the good sense to acquire as “tour guide” - he also performed sound/lighting duties - Arhoolie Records boss Chris Strachwitz, a German immigrant who was already beginning to establish a reputation for documenting and disseminating on LP’s what we now often refer to as American Roots Music. Wawzyn found relatively few “famous jazz musicians”, but thanks to Strachwitz’ able guidance, he uncovered - and filmed - many regional and ethnic musical gems which might otherwise be lost to us. This documentary DVD gathers together much of the footage Wawzyn took during their trip across the Southern part of the US, from California to North Carolina. Alas, other footage has been lost through the years, but what remains is a wonderful record of a musical era now nearly gone.

The journey begins in Strachwitz’ home territory, the San Francisco Bay area, with the high-spirited one-man-band Jesse “Lone Cat Fuller”, of “San Francisco Bay Blues” renown. Though other footage of Fuller is readily available, it’s always a treat to see Fuller in action, sitting at his home-made rig consisting of 12-string guitar, harmonica, kazoo, percussion and a foot-pedal-powered string bass called a “footdella”. Most of the musicians on this disc come, like Fuller, from purely traditional backgrounds. But 1963 was, you may recall, a very good year for the so-called “folk revival”. So it’s not too surprising to see a couple performances by “contemporary” performers, though in both cases these “revival” performers were doing much older material in a style based on earlier musical approaches. Since filming took place around the time of the jug-band boomlet, we are treated to the Goodtime Washboard 3, an entertaining trio with a lineup of banjo, washboard (with accessories), and washtub bass. We also hear longtime Bay area blues singer and political activist Barbara Dane (who, at nearly 84, is one of the very few performers on this disc who is still with us.), singing “Careless Love”. Our Bay Area sojourn continues with the great urban blues singer-guitarist Lowell Fulson, performing in his natural context, an inner-city bar. We then do a 180-degree turn to the once-famous preacher King Louis Narcisse, filmed during services.

This idea of showcasing performers in their natural contexts carries throughout most of the film. Occasionally, however, footage of a performer is juxtaposed with clips of daily life in another town, giving a semblance of authenticity without being totally “staged”. I think we can forgive this indiscretion, since nothing looks so totally out-of-place that it detracts from the value of either the music or the lifestyles being depicted.

Wawzyn leaves California and heads to Arizona, where he captures the rarely heard sights and sounds of an old-fashioned Tohono O’odham Indian waila string band, from the days before the saxophone and accordion came to dominate the Northern Mexican/Texan-influenced polka music of the area. Once again. much of what Wawzyn and Strachwitz found in Arizona is religious in nature, highlighted by the near-legendary street preacher/singer/guitarist Rev. Louis Overstreet, as well as his quartet-style gospel harmonizing sons. We see both white and black Holiness preachers in action, generating the sort of rabid reaction from their listeners one would never witness in a mainstream Protestant church. These religious segments add up to a substantial percentage of the film’s 75-minute running time, yet they preserve American folkways which are rarely seen by most Americans. We as a people are culturally richer because of the availability of scenes such as this.

In New Mexico, we see the once-fabled Navajo singer Ed Lee Natay, accompanying himself with a large drum, amidst scenes of home life on the reservation. We also see Natay in his other role, as a country-music DJ. We also see Apache singer Chief White Cloud, also self-accompanied on drum. With today’s media emphasis on representing American Indian culture (if at all) by showing pow-wow drums and dancers, it’s instructive to recall the classic solo singers who seemed to dominate Native recording in the 1950’s.

On to Texas, which is where the Arhoolie story really began, when Strachwitz released his first album, by sharecropper/songster Mance Lipscomb. We see Lipscomb singing the St. Louis Jimmy Oden hit from the early 1940’s, “Going Down Slow”, on what I take to be his front porch, a reminder that not all songs recorded by traditional artists in traditional settings derive from purely traditional sources. The audio commentary track informs us that while Lipscomb is singing in Navasota, the contrasting scenes of daily life were actually filmed in Houston. In Fort Worth, we hear B. K. Turner, professionally known as Black Ace, singing his signature song while deftly manipulating his guitar slide. Hop Wilson plays electric steel guitar in a far-too-brief scene filmed in Wilson’s natural musical setting, a barroom. Pianist Whistling Alex Moore demonstrates where his nickname came from, as he plays boogie-woogie on a rundown piano. The big name in the Texas segment, though, is Sam “Lightnin’” Hopkins, singing one of his typically self-referential songs as well as shooting dice (HIS natural setting), plus a quick boogie-guitar instrumental.

In Louisiana, we get a sample of Cajun music (only one, but it’s better than none) from Shorty Leblanc, who briefly achieved minor celebrity status as the accordionist on Cleveland Crochet’s “Sugar Bee”. That 1961 hit had been sung by Jay Stutes, whom I believe to be the steel guitarist in this clip. In Baton Rouge, we hear Willie Thomas, whose style seems to incorporate equal parts blues and Holiness sermonizing. In New Orleans, Wawzyn hits the jackpot by locating an honest-to-goodness “famous jazz musician”, clarinetist George Lewis, heard here in a quartet derived from an early edition of the Preservation Hall Jazz Band, with Louis Nelson on trombone. Lewis’ pianist, “Sweet Emma” Barrett, brings down the house singing “None of My Jelly Roll”, in a style which seems to be situated on the borderline between ragtime and vaudeville-blues. We also get a glimpse at a New Orleans-style funeral, with the Eureka Brass Band playing a dirge on the way to the cemetery, changing to an uptempo romp on the way back.

We cross into Mississippi to hear the rural string-band strains of the Hodges Brothers, poor white farmers in a poverty-stricken area of Bogue Chitto. If the Hodges represent country music at its most traditional, the next three segments, recorded in Nashville, are strictly show-biz. The Lewus Family were an important bluegrass-gospel ensemble during that period. Red Sovine reproduces the recording session that spawned his hit single “Why Baby Why”. It sounds positively old-fashioned in this era of Rascal Flatts and Lady Antebellum, but it no doubt seemed plenty commercial in 1963, particularly in contrast to the rest of the DVD. Even more oriented toward popular entertainment is the gimmicky, yet entertaining comedy-with-music act of the Willis Brothers, whose studio-produced hits such as “Give Me 40 Acres” in no way prepare you for the cheerful tomfoolery of their live act seen here. Another, far more hidden side of Nashville is uncovered as we encounter the black string-band music of Blind James Campbell and his band of street musicians, playing fiddle, guitars, and tuba, a part of Nashville’s musical heritage rarely documented on film or recordings.

The Appalachian string-band tradition is represented by North Carolina’s J. E. Mainer and the Mountaineers, a classic 30’s band which was still actively recording in the 1960’s. It would have been appropriate for the film to have ended there - having traced significant portions of American roots music from the West Coast to the East. But as the credits roll, we get to hear a Nashville-based German-born country singer of the era named Eddie Schaible, a reminder that this film was, after all, originally shot for the German audience. Schaible is agreeable enough, but not distinctive to the point where he had any chance to crack the American country-music market. A pleasant curiosity, which would not have been missed if it had been omitted.

But that’s one of the very few false moves in an otherwise fascinating musical journey. To add to the disc’s value, there is an audio commentary track, in which Chris Strachwitz reminiscences about the making of the film - how it came about, memories of the musicians, musings over the contexts in which the music was made and documented, sprinkled with a few anecdotes.

In short, I must give this my highest recommendation to anyone who loves this music, its history, the people who performed it and, for that matter, the people who listened to and supported this music for all of its years. Virtually all of these artists are gone now, their music with them, the world in which they lived altered for all time. All we have is what was captured on sound recordings and film. And we truly do not have nearly enough film documentation. This DVD goes a long way in keeping these traditions alive for generations to come.

“Alison Brown Quartet: Live at Blair - With Joe Craven” DVD (Compass)

2011-03-12T11:36:00.000-08:00

Alison Brown has been at the forefront of the contemporary 5-string banjo movement for some 20+ years now, beginning with her tenure with Alison Krauss and Union Station. During that time, Brown has recorded a number of CD’s, first for Vanguard, then (since 1998) her own Compass Records banner. But not only is Brown one of Compass’ brightest lights, she also runs the label with husband and bass player Garry West. Under their enlightened guidance, Compass has emerged as a major player in the worlds of contemporary acoustic music, Americana, bluegrass, and Celtic music. Fittingly enough, all those genres figure prominently into music of the Alison Brown Quartet on the “Live At Blair” DVD.

For those who may be unfamiliar with her work, Alison Brown belongs to the same general category - which has never really been given a satisfactory name, as if that matters - of contemporary acoustic instrumental music, which encompasses such diverse artists as Bela Fleck, David Grisman, Sam Bush, Jerry Douglas, Mark O’Connor, et. al. Her music incorporates elements of bluegrass, jazz, New Age, classical music, Celtic and other World Music elements, in varying amounts which keep it from being predictable or even readily classifiable. Brown’s 5-string work is rooted in the Bill Keith chromatic style, but shows familiarity with Scruggs style on occasion. The banjo is by nature a pretty staccato instrument, but her playing always seems to sound smoothly rounded and highly imaginative. The same may be said of featured guest artist Joe Craven (best known for his work with Grisman) on fiddle and mandolin and Brown’s well-polished rhythm section. When everything is going right - as it is through the great bulk of this DVD concert - Brown’s banjo sparkles, Craven’s fiddle glides, John R. Burr’s piano soars and swoops, drummer Larry Atamanuik propels, and Garry West’s bass anchors everything. They all have their own ideas, yet everyone does their part to enhance and complement what the others.

Most of the material consists of intelligently conceived original tunes, including “The Magnificent Seven”, which is neither the epic Elmer Bernstein Western movie theme turned cigarette commercial nor the Clash song. It’s refreshing to hear Brown switch to guitar (and Craven to mandolin) on “Deep Gap”, a tribute to the Godfather of this entire genre of acoustic instrumentalism, Doc Watson.

As for the non-originals,Craven (on mandolin and auxiliary percussion) gets a workout on a lesser-known Django Reinhardt piece from 1939, “Hungaria”, which also features a drum solo by Atamanuik. There is also a traditional Scottish tune or two in the lengthy, set-closing medley with the unlikely title “(I’m Naked and I’m) Goin’ To Glasgow”. Brown is the first banjoist I’ve heard who has successfully translated the triplet ornamentation of Irish tenor banjo playing to the 5-string instrument, then extends it further. The medley also includes Burr’s most intense solo of the disc, in a modern gospel-tinged jazz vein. It probably shouldn’t be expected to work in a Celtic medley, yet it does. By the time Craven brings the hour-long concert to its climax by beating on Brown’s banjo like a conga drum, as she continues to play without missing a beat, one is no longer surprised by anything one might hear from these skilled musicians.

Brown does not have the most effusive stage personality, if that sort of thing is important to you. But Craven has a devilish little grin which wins over the viewer. No matter, the appreciative audience is not necessarily there to see “a show” or to be bowled over by personalities, but to hear well-considered original music skillfully played, and that’s exactly what they get for most of the disc. The two attempts at adding humor and variety to the proceedings no doubt worked better in the auditorium than they do for repeated home viewing. Brown narrates the historical/mythological background behind her composition “The Wonderful Sea Voyage (Of Holy St. Brendan)”, while Craven (occasionally abetted by West) accompanies with vocal sound effects, shouts, and bits of choreography. I was not at all surprised to learn that Craven has a successful side career as a children’s entertainer and workshop leader. The other “interruption” (my choice of word; others may well disagree) to the concert is the performance by Brown and West’s 6-year-old daughter Hannah, singing a couple old vaudeville standards. Very cute, even delightful - once. But I for one would opt to skip to the next chapter in subsequent viewings.

Nevertheless, I think anyone with an interest in the current state of the banjo and the development of contemporary acoustic music will more than get their money’s worth here, especially at the budget-conscious list price of $11.99. (I’ve seen it advertised online for even less.) Picture and audio quality are both absolutely gorgeous. The sole bonus feature is short text bios of the musicians.

Get this one.

“Mighty Uke: The Amazing Comeback Of A Musical Underdog” (Tiny Goat Films)

2011-03-07T16:09:00.000-08:00

As I was growing up in the continually expanding rock’n’roll eras of the 1950’s and ‘60’s, the ukulele had a pretty bad rap. For one thing, among rockers, the electric guitar was THE instrument of the moment, and the uke seemed hopelessly square. Second, it’s such a tiny thing and costs so little, who could take it seriously? Third, it conjured up images of slick-haired 1920’s frat boys in raccoon coats, as well as Arthur Godfrey, who may have been an entertaining t.v. host, but was no teenager’s idea of a hip musician. Then finally, along came Tiny Tim, and any residual interest in the ukulele was irrevocably destroyed. Or so it seemed at the time.

Forward to the end of the first decade of the 21st century. As I was expanding the number of areas of the globe covered in my “Musics of the World” course at SUNY Fredonia, and briefly discussing Hawaiian music in my “American Music” course as well, I noticed something unexpected. College students born around at the end of the 1980’s, primarily in the state of New York, professed to know who Bruddah Iz (Israel Kamakawiwo’ole) was, though he died while they were in grade school. It was generally the case that “Over the Rainbow” was the only song they knew by him (which some students seemed to associate more with him than “The Wizard of Oz”), but they were conversant with - and had considerably high regard for - a musician who played the ukulele. Before long, Iz was joined in the next batch of students’ eyes by the great Jake Shimabukuro. Once again, they might only know one song (“While My Guitar Gently Weeps”), but at least they were giving serious props to a bona-fide ukulele innovator.

In other words, the ukulele is no longer in limbo. It can actually be considered a cool instrument by college students in the eastern US in the year 2011. Oh, yes, I still hear my fellow faculty members make derisive comments about the instrument - until I counter with Jake S., at which time they grudgingly nod assent. But attitudes are hard to change in academia. Perhaps they should all watch this marvelously entertaining and educational film, “Mighty Uke”, as fine a no-apologies-needed paean to a once-reviled musical instrument as you could hope to see.

You see, the Canadian filmmakers who put this 79-minute documentary together don’t simply take the ukulele seriously. Well beyond that, they love this instrument with a passion. The film is part history, part love letter, part demonstration of its capabilities, part tribute to many of the uke’s finest exponents, and part testimonial to how darn much fun it is to make music simply, easily, and without complication, using an instrument that my know-it-all Baby Boomer generation dismissed as something of a joke.

Watching this film, it is abundantly clear that during its long period in musical limbo, the ukulele underwent a tremendous expansion of stylistic possibilities and playing techniques. You may learn by strumming, you may also effectively accompany singing by strumming. But this is also an instrument that is capable of great subtlety, delicacy, creativity, and even complexity when melodic lines are skillfully plucked on it. It is worth noting that many of the players who are seen playing the instrument on-camera are likewise surprised to find how much pleasure they get playing the instrument, and how surprised a few are to discover they can actually make money doing so. Clearly this is a new Golden Era for what seems so humble an instrument, as well providing non-musicians (from schoolchildren to senior citizen groups) an outlet to begin expressing themselves in musical ways. Teachers, Recreation Directors, and Music Therapists might find many of these scenes to be quite eye-opening, and send Music Education in whole new directions. I don’t even play the uke, and have no need to proselytize for the instrument, but I find I’ve been inspired to talk about it to people in positions to expose it further.

Along the way, we see many shapes, sizes, and styles of ukulele, a much greater variety of options than the mini-guitar shape we generally think of when the instrument is mentioned. We get a compact history of Hawaiian music in general and the uke in particular, tracing its roots to the Portuguese braguinha (also the forerunner of the uke’s Brazilian cousin, the cavaquinho, which I thought might get more attention here, though it has never really gone out of fashion in samba circles), examining its early days in the Hawaiian islands, its inroads into mainland/mainstream American pop-culture during the early 20th century, and yes, the dark days of Tiny Tim. We also get to see rare ukes in the collection of the Honolulu’s famed Bishop Museum. We meet the author/compiler of a series of ukulele instruction books and songbooks.

And we get to see performances and interviews, lots of them. We see masters on various levels of accomplishment, such as the aforementioned Jake Shimabukuro, centenarian Bill Tapia (who talks about his early career; he’s been playing since 1915!!), the late John King, a fellow named Jon Braman who unexpectedly blends the ukulele with hip-hop, singer-songwriter Uni, the Boulder Acoustic Society, and Canadian groundbreaker James Hill. But we also get to see talented amateurs in large ensembles, in senior bands, a group of Israeli youth of both Jewish and Arab descent, and a high-school uke orchestra from British Columbia which tours Hawaii annually. Clearly this is an instrument which transcends musical, geographical, ethnic, political, and seemingly any other kind of barrier. But the point continues to be stressed that you don’t necessarily need to play with a high level of skill to enjoy the instrument, just a high level of enthusiasm.

In addition to the full-length film, there are no less than 10 short films with supplementary material. (Outtakes? No matter, they’re worth seeing.) We get to look at some vintage Martin ukes and learn how they were made. (Yes, that’s THE Martin Guitar company. During the depression, people couldn’t always afford a fine Martin guitar, but they were much more likely to afford a $5 uke.) We see some unusual looking ukuleles-as-art-objects, as an introduction to a Japanese artist/craftsman who fashions “ukuleles of the future”, amplified and with flashing lights. There are short profiles of a number of interesting performers playing a wide variety of musical styles. We are treated to some excellent live footage of the great uke master John King, who passed away in 2009, after carving out a unique position in the world of Hawaiian-rooted contemporary ukulele composition. And to top it all off, James Hill gives us an introductory uke lesson.

In all, this is a thoroughly delightful film, which should have great appeal well beyond the already converted uke community, and which will open the eyes of music lovers of many stripes. I seriously doubt you’ll find this at Wal-Mart, so I’d suggest you check it out at http://www.mightyukemovie.com

“The Mississippi Sheiks Tribute Concert: Live In Vancouver” DVD (Black Hen)

2011-01-23T12:25:00.000-08:00

The Mississippi Sheiks were one of the most popular performing and recording acts ever to come out of the Mississippi Delta. Although generally thought of by modern listeners as “blues” artists, in their 1930’s heyday they recorded a variety of music ranging from fiddle tunes, nominally folk and country songs from both black and white traditions, pop songs of the day, older ragtime and humorous songs, as well as blues, plus anything else people wanted to hear. The band was a somewhat loose assemblage centered around the Chatmon Brothers, including fiddler Lonnie Chatmon, guitarist/singers Sam Chatmon (whose later solo career continued well into the 1970’s) and Bo Chatmon (who, as Bo Carter, enjoyed solo success with a string of double-entendre hits), plus a key non-brother, singer-songwriter Walter Vinson.

It would be untrue to say the Sheiks are now forgotten, as they still have a strong, faithful following, but neither are they as well-known as they deserve to be. Enter guitarist Steve Dawson, who produced a CD of modern-day artists recording their own versions of the Sheiks repertoire, to be followed by two concerts and this DVD, which is derived from those concerts. While I’ve never heard the CD, a quick check of Amazon shows that the lineups of the artists appearing on the CD and DVD overlap, but are considerably different. No matter - this concert DVD holds up extremely well, even without the likes of Bruce Cockburn or the Carolina Chocolate Drops (who appeared on the CD).

The disc opens with a bit of background about the Sheiks as well as on the organization of the concerts. The concert is built around a carefully chosen house combo of musicians from the Seattle/Vancouver area, who are joined by an impressive cast of featured celebrity singer-musicians from both sides of the US/Canada border. Dawson talks about the haste with which the rehearsals were put together, which contributes to the informality of the proceedings. One might expect from this that there would be a certain level of sloppiness in the music, but indeed there is very little, and what small bits of uncoordination there may be are easily overlooked.

Things get under way with a reading by actor/bluesman Jim Byrnes from liner notes written by Sam Chatmon back in the 1970’s, as the house band plays behind him. Throughout the set, the band by no means attempts to slavishly recapture the sound, style, or fully-acoustic arrangements of the Sheiks. There are electric guitars, keyboards, acoustic bass, drums, and an occasional touch of brass, as well as some decidedly modern funk and New Orleans rhythms going on. Purists may object, but there really is no reason these old favorite songs need to live solely in the past.

Oh Susanna, a slightly strident American-born, Canadian-based singer who is new to me, does “Things About Comin’ My Way,” a song which shares its melody line with the Sheiks’ most influential song, “Sitting on Top of the World” (a song covered by Bob Wills, Howlin’ Wolf, Cream, Willie Nelson, among countless others). The Sojourners, a vocal trio, add touches of quartet-style gospel and swing to “Sweet Maggie”, the chorus of which is essentially “Corrine Corrina”. Geoff Muldaur offers “Poor Boy”, with some sweet fiddling by Daniel Lapp in the Lonnie Chatmon tradition. Despite an instrumentation which includes accordion, mandolin, and Muldaur’s banjo, this one really captures the essence of the Sheiks.

Bob Brozman, on National steel guitar, plays a down-and-dirty “Church Bell Blues”, with some gritty fiddling by Lapp and nice interaction between Brozman and Dawson on the instrumental break. Singer-pianist Robin Holcomb, takes one of my personal favorite Sheiks’ songs, “I’ve Got Blood In My Eyes For You”, and totally transforms it into a harmonically adventurous jazz narrative a la Nina Simone (not necessarily an exact parallel, but it’s the best familiar-name approximation I can come up with). Only the lyrics remain intact. It’s an interesting recasting, to be sure, and one which is beginning to grow on me now that the initial shock has worn off. (Holcomb’s husband, Wayne Horvitz, perhaps best known in jazz circles, is the versatile keyboardist for the concert’s house band.) Alvin Youngblood Hart sings a soulful version of “Livin’ In a Strain”, backing himself with some subtle, tasty lap steel licks. Dave Alvin, along with singer Christy McWilson, Brozman, Lapp, and Dawson, tweaks the concert’s format only slightly with a song from Bo Carter’s solo repertoire (“Who’s Been Here”). Though Alvin is generally thought of as a roots-rocker, fans may not be at all surprised that this may be the most traditional-folk performance in the set, and a highly ingratiating one at that.

If there could be said to be one artist on the disc who stands out a slight cut above the rest, it might be John Hammond, one of the giants of the 1960’s blues revival and still going strong. He blows some solid blues harp on Colin James’ easy-going version of “Keep On Tryin’”, done in the low-key, loping rhythm the Sheiks did so well, then returns to accompany Jim Byrnes. Hammond then gets his own spot for a typically fine performance of “Kind Treatment.” If there could be said to be a failure on the disc, it would be Van Dyke Parks’ version of “It’s Backfirin’ Now”. Parks is not someone one would expect to hear in this context in the first place, but he IS from Mississippi and a Sheiks’ admirer. Alas, this isn’t quite enough. With his barrelhouse piano, coupled with Lapp’s cornet, he gets a bit of a Dr. John groove going, but his voice simply does not have enough grit in it to make his valiant attempt a successful one.

But this is the only misstep in a solid set of tunes and performances. The entire lineup assembles at the end for a surprisingly frisky version of “Sitting On Top of the World”, bringing the concert and the DVD to an appropriately rousing conclusion.

The 85-minute disc has no extra features, and none are necessary.

Marina Rossell - “Classics Catalans: Gran Teatre Del Liceu de Barcelona” DVD (World Village)

2011-01-20T16:18:00.000-08:00

Catalunya (or Catalonia) is an “autonomous community” within the Kingdom of Spain, which sounds as if the “nation” of Catalunya should be at least semi-independent. Spain, however, continues to maintain sovereignty over the region (which includes the metropolis of Barcelona). Thus it is by no means inappropriate or unexpected for a Catalan singer to program songs calling for Catalan freedom in a televised performance in a major concert hall.

The singer in question, Marina Rossell, is a long-time superstar in Catalunya, with a career dating back into the 1970’s, though she is little known in the US. This is unfortunate, because as a performer and as a representative of her culture, she should rank alongside such former International sensations as Edith Piaf, Nana Mouskouri, and Mercedes Sosa. Many of her own songs, as well as the older Catalan songs (about which below) that she interprets, may be regarded as somewhat equivalent to the South American nueva cancion, in that they are poetically worded songs which examine the lives of the common people, leaving it up to the listener to decide what must be done if things are to change. There are English subtitles available for the lyrics, which I tended to ignore at first, so captivating is the lush beauty of Rossell’s voice. Fortunately, I soon realized what a serious mistake that was, as the lyrics hold the key for a full understanding of the songs and the entire nationalist nature of the concert.

Rossell’s original material dominates the first half of the 90-minute concert, and a very substantial (and entertaining) body of work it is. The second half of the proceedings, however, may be even more valuable, as the singer has done considerable research into long-forgotten Catalan songs from the late 19th- and early 20th centuries. She has retained the heartfelt lyrics and memorable melodies of these songs intact, but has very successfully updated the styles of their arrangements to suit her musical approach and the taste of the contemporary listener.

Her accompaniment is focused largely on a variety of “Mediterranean guitars”, as well as piano, occasional accordion, strong bass playing, light percussion. This is supplemented by a variety of well-chosen guest artists - a choir of young women (teens, it would appear) called the Vivaldi Choir of Young Voices of Catalonia, two musicians playing tenoras (long double-reed woodwinds generally found in coblas; see below), the great Basque trikitixa (localized version of the accordion) player Kepa Junkera, and a largish percussion ensemble called the Coetus Iberian Percussion Orchestra.

In addition to the concert, there is a half-hour feature focusing on the songs themselves, showing how Rossell combed archives filled with sheet music to resurrect gems from her nation’s past. We are treated to an outdoor performance by a Catalan wind band called a cobla, which has the traditional role of supplying music for the Catalan circle dance known as the sardana. We also hear the background of several of the older songs featured in the concert, and learn a bit about their composers. In all, this lone bonus feature is an invaluable adjunct to a fuller understanding of the music.

Since this concert was filmed in 2008 for Catalan television, it would seem to make sense for someone like PBS to make it available for American viewers. But that would probably make too much sense. Certainly, there is far more substance and passion in this DVD than in a full week, even two, of the bland concerts by international pop singers trotted out by PBS during Membership Pledge Drives. Get this DVD -it’s the really good stuff.

Joe Louis Walker & the Bosstalkers “In Concert” (MVD)

2011-01-14T15:17:00.000-08:00

When Joe Louis Walker exploded onto the blues scene in the late 1980’s, he was hailed as a breath of fresh air. He enlivened a somewhat stagnating scene with his energetic, emotional, original approach to combining hard-core electric blues with elements of soul and gospel. This 1991 live-performance DVD, from the German concert t.v. series “Ohne Filter”, captures him and his equally energetic band, the Bosstalkers, at their early peak.

Walker and the band are notable for their clean, stripped-down sound, built around the leader’s, precise, clipped-note lead which has some of the cool approach of Albert Collins melodically (though the parallel should not be taken too exactly), but which can burst out in showers of notes which can catch you pleasantly off-guard. This tight, compact early edition of the Bosstalkers provide solid support throughout, without ever overpowering Walker. The bass player in particular has a nice, popping funk rhythmic sense, whereas the keyboardist and drummer are refreshingly content to be role-players, filling in with taste and subtlety. A concise two-man horn section (tenor sax, trumpet) provides first-rate enhancement, occasionally putting down their horns to pick up small percussion instruments. One can only wish that all sidemen in small bands of this nature were equally content to help showcase their leader and not themselves.

Walker’s repertoire is quite varied, and reflects his early interest in the earthier aspects of 60’s r&b, his early-career experience in the playing field, his interest in a wide range of electric blues from Chicago through Memphis to Texas, even his friendship with former roommate Michael Bloomfield. It’s all here, not in a scatter-shot way, but melded into a coherent, individualistic approach. The 57-minute performance holds a great deal of interest from beginning to end.

In the twenty years since this concert was originally televised, Joe Louis Walker has continued to record consistently excellent CD’s and perform at top festivals and clubs. Even so, he has never quite crossed into mainstream consciousness the way a B. B. King or Buddy Guy has. And that’s a shame, because the man has an awful lot to offer. This disc captures him at full power, and should be seen by anyone interested in modern-day blues.

“Jimi Hendrix: Guitar Hero” DVD (Image Entertainment)

2010-12-24T12:12:00.000-08:00

Back in the days when rock music still had guitar heroes, when the term referred to lead and solo (generally electric) guitarists who played with greater technical skill, more imagination, and a bolder vision than almost all of their peers, when Guitar Hero meant more than a video game, Jimi Hendrix was the greatest guitar hero of them all. That’s not just me talking, it’s an opinion shared by some of the finest rock musicians ever, many of whom share their memories of Hendrix on this documentary DVD. If you are one of the unconvinced, and even if you are already a true fan, this disc goes far in explaining why, a full forty years after his death, Jimi Hendrix is still idolized by so many musicians and fans alike.

This film would appear to be unauthorized by the Hendrix estate, which might explain why there are only a few snippets of Hendrix in live performance here, with most of the background music consisting of other people’s oldies. I enjoy listening to Hawkwind, Harry Nilsson and Lorraine Ellison (among many others heard here) as much as anyone, but they seem out of place in this context. This to me is the only real negative in this documentary, yet it’s a fairly small one. But the fact that this is most likely unauthorized means that interviewees feel free to speak their minds freely, without censorship. Thus we have, for example, a no-holds-barred look at Hendrix’s drug use, which everyone knows about, but which has rarely been openly discussed in such detail.

The film is narrated by Slash, whose admiration for Jimi Hendrix is well-known, and who seems quite well-versed in Hendrix lore, even though he died when Slash was only five years old. The great bulk of the interviewees, however, are people who knew Hendrix, many of whom played/jammed/associated with him, sharing their memories rather than relating unfounded rumors or hearsay. The musicians interviewed on-camera (mostly in 2009) include Eric Clapton, Eric Burdon, Mick Taylor, Zoot Money, Ginger Baker, Joey Covington, Bev Bevan. Mickey Dolenz, Lemmy, Stephen Stills, Alan White and Chris Squier, Dave Mason, and Paul Rodgers. Important, less publicly known parts to the story are recounted by Hendrix’ longtime English girlfriend, Kathy Etchingham, and his brother Leon Hendrix. Journalist/author Charles Cross adds a great deal of well-considered perspective as well.

Indeed, Leon’s tales of Hendrix’s poverty-filled childhood, raised by alcoholic parents who eventually split up and left the young brothers at the mercy of the Child Welfare system, provide many of the most poignant moments in the film. We learn that the parents’ constant arguing inspired one of Hendrix’ most touching songs, “Castles Made of Sand”. One can only speculate how this upbringing influenced the guitarist’s subsequent lifestyle choices. We hear from several sources that despite his copious drug use and “wild man” on-stage antics, Hendrix off-stage was quiet, polite, reserved, constantly with a guitar in his hand, practicing/rehearsing. Indeed, we are told that many of those on-stage antics were pure show-biz, his version of African-American showmanship that he learned during his apprenticeships with Little Richard, the Isley Brothers, Wilson Pickett, and others. Many of his “stunts”, such as playing the guitar behind his head and with his teeth, were used by earlier generations of blues musicians such as T-Bone Walker (and, I would add, Charlie Patton), but seemed new to the rock audience who hadn’t seen them before. Even his most outrageous moments were calculated, designed to gain maximum publicity, including the infamous guitar-burning/smashing at Monterrey.

We learn of Noel Redding’s jealousy, that rather than thanking his lucky stars that he found himself in an important, highly visible band, he felt he deserved to be “the star”, the guitar player for the band. (He was after all, as he would remind people, the best guitar player in Kent!). It turns out that he actually intended to audition for a guitar opening in the Animals, but that manager (and ex-Animal) Chas Chandler hired Redding as bassist for the Jimi Hendrix Experience even though he had no experience on the instrument. Redding’s dissatisfaction with and bare competence in his role explains why so much of the bass work on “Electric Ladyland” was by Hendrix himself, overdubbing, rather than by Redding. Dave Mason talks about how he came to play the acoustic guitar part on “All Along the Watchtower”, and how Hendrix’ classic solo on that track was actually a combination of three solos, including a slide part played with a cigarette lighter. I suspect much of this material may appear in various printed sources, but it’s nice to have it all in one place, confirmed by people who were there.

Musicians will appreciate the technical discussions of Hendrix’ fingerings, chord formations, sound effects, and amplifier set-ups by Slash, Stills, Covington, and Lemmy (Noel Redding’s one-time roommate, who served as a roadie for the Experience for several months in his pre-Hawkwind/Motorhead days). Thus, we learn that not only was Jimi Hendrix a guitar hero (we already knew that), but we learn WHY he was one, and how he became one. On a related subject, Hendrix was fascinated by sounds, and was always striving to turn the sounds and colors he heard in his head into reality. Producer Alan Douglas says you “couldn’t produce” Hendrix, “you could only help him to produce himself”; he knew what he wanted, but did not always know the technical means by which to achieve his goals in the studio. Hendrix died leaving many of his ambitions unfulfilled. We’re told he wanted to write symphonies. not only for orchestra but for large ensembles of electric guitars. We’re told he wanted to form bigger bands, that the short-lived Gypsy Sun and Rainbows, the band he played with at Woodstock, was only a small step in that direction. Others tell us he wanted to go back to his blues roots, while Stephen Stills feels he would have turned in the direction of fusion. But the business heads around Hendrix insisted he continue to do “Purple Haze” and his other hits over and over, which he grew to despise.

Bonus Features include an irrelevant ten-minute featurette of silent film footage of the Monkees, taken by photographer Henry Diltz (another of the interviewees on this disc), who didn’t join the tour in which Hendrix opened for the Monkees (talk about your classic mismatch!) until after Hendrix was dismissed. While it’s by no means uninteresting to see (though not hear) the Monkees onstage, it should be on another disc, not this one. Much more illuminating is the one full-length performance by the Jimi Hendrix Experience on the DVD, an early live version of “Hey Joe”, in which it’s clear that Redding isn’t connecting with Hendrix and drummer Mitch Mitchell. Also included are a number of extended interviews, which include insights not chosen for the original film. As in the main program, some of the most perceptive commentary comes from Charles Cross, while some of the most significant comes from Leon Hendrix, with more fascinating info on his brother’s youth and musical upbringing. There are two small photo galleries, one of random shots and one of Henry Diltz material, plus a 20-page booklet of photos and biographical material, which does not merely reproduce the film’s contents.

In all, I would say that this would be a highly instructive and rewarding way to spend some of your Christmas gift money. Not only did I learn a lot, I found the great bulk, perhaps all, of it to be trustworthy, much more so than one might find on a bowdlerized “authorized” DVD.

“Andy Williams Collection” 3-DVD box set (Questar)

2010-12-22T15:21:00.000-08:00

To the oldest generation still with us, the term “Christmas music” conjures up images of Bing Crosby. But to those of us who grew up watching television in the 1960’s, Christmas is near-synonymous with Andy Williams. This new collection of three DVD’s, featuring material from Williams’ t.v. series, which aired through most of the 60’s, includes one whole disc entirely devoted to his annual Christmas special, plus two discs of non-seasonal material.

Andy Williams, who turned 83 earlier this month, is still a popular live performer, in Branson, MO, Las Vegas, and other venues which cater largely to an older audience that remembers him from his heyday. What makes this particularly extraordinary is that he’s been doing this for over 70 years, beginning in the late 30’s as the youngest member of a family quartet from Iowa called the Williams Brothers, who hit the big-time singing with Bing Crosby on his 1944 hit, “Swingin’ On a Star”. When the rest of the group decided to quit in the early 50’s, Andy embarked on a solo career, and has never had to look back. By 1956, he began turning out a long series of hit records that continued into the 1970’s. His clear, appealing voice, with a strong falsetto that set him apart from other middle-of-the-road pop entertainers of the era, was combined with a stylistic versatility that made him a favorite of the Welk crowd, the Sinatra audience, and the Top 40 charts, all at once - no mean feat during the British Invasion and psychedelic eras. The one thing he lacked was a rhythmic feel for jazz, yet he sounded quite comfortable over the swinging big-band arrangements that were a staple of t.v. variety shows back in the day.

Although his early hit singles included both rockabilly (Charlie Gracie’s “Butterfly”) and country-music (Carl Belew’s “Lonely Street”) covers, Williams’ repertoire of the 60’s featured a number of songs from movie scores. The first disc in this set - all three discs are available separately, as well as in this box - “Moon River and Me” includes televised performances of such movie songs as the title song (from “Breakfast at Tiffany’s; the song was a hit single for Jerry Butler, but has become associated more closely with Williams over the years, due largely to his t.v. exposure), “The Shadow of Your Smile” (with a tasteful trumpet counter-melody by Al Hirt), “Born Free”, “Call Me Irresponsible,” and several others. There are also a couple unusual production numbers that go beyond the typical dance routines, such as a chorus line jumping-rope to “Goody Goody” and ice-skaters during “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve”. Unlike many of his pop-music contemporaries, Williams also had a taste for folk-flavored songs, on this disc “Leavin’ On A Jet Plane” and “Abraham, Martin and John.”

Amidst all the well-known songs, there are a couple daring choices, Broadway songs which have never received as much attention as they deserve - Ira Gershwin/Kurt Weill’s “My Ship” and Truman Capote/Harold Arlen’s “Don’t Like Goodbyes”. Many of the songs have new introductions by a white-haired, bespectacled Andy Williams, whom I don’t know whether I would have recognized if I didn’t already know it was him. Four additional songs, including a lovely “Danny Boy”, are included as Bonus Features.

The second disc, “My Favorite Duets”, features Williams in collaboration with a wide variety of guest stars. Despite the designation “duets”, he is joined by a few ensembles - Peter, Paul and Mary, with whom he blends seamlessly on the Weavers’ “Kisses Sweeter Than Wine”; Simon and Garfunkel, on a version of “Scarborough Fair” which may even exceed the duo’s original recording; Phil Harris and an unidentified male gospel quartet; a reunited Williams Brothers; and a highly impressive Osmond Brothers, in he days before they became Jackson 5 imitators and still based their sound on that of the Williams Brothers (no wonder Andy featured them so regularly!).

As for the “real” duets (the two-person variety), Sammy Davis, Jr. does some eccentric tap-dancing mixed in with the twist. A dance routine pairs Williams and former college athlete Johnny Mathis with basketballs and gymnastic equipment. A medley teams Andy with his old colleague Bing Crosby. Roger Miller scats through a wacky version of “You Don’t Want My Love”, an atypical Williams hit which Miller wrote). A funny bit finds Pearl Bailey dancing in her chair as the two engage in song and patter. Antonio Carlos Jobim, a Williams favorite, backs Williams on guitar and sings a bit himself, though Jobim was really a composer/pianist more than a singer). Inevitably, perhaps, there are a few collaborations which simply fail to catch fire, with Lena Horne, Julie Andrews, and a vocally shot Judy Garland.

Sprinkled throughout are reminiscences by Williams, music director Dave Grusin, and Mathis. All three offer additional commentary in the Bonus Features, along with a few repeats of their comments from the program. Because of the level of talent involved, I would suggest that - all things being equal - this would be the disc to get if your budget allows to only get one.

But that’s just my opinion - I have a feeling that most single-disc buyers will opt for disc 3, “Best of Christmas”. Goodness knows, I can picture this becoming an annual ritual around our house. The Andy Williams Christmas Special became such a yearly institution that it continued to appear for several years after the weekly show left the air. The disc has no bonus features and no guest stars aside from the Osmond Brothers, the Williams Brothers, and the whole Williams family - and it doesn’t need anything else. There are a couple more of those typically atypical Williams Show production numbers, in this instance with old-fashioned, small-town sets, vintage clothing, and people milling about (one hesitates to call it dancing, though the choreographer’s touch is obvious). There are also straightforward solo renditions of sacred Christmas hymns, “Silent Night”, “O Holy Night”, “Ave Maria”. And of course, Williams does his own Christmas hit, “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”. There really is no need to say much more, because this is the sort of fondly remembered disc that sells itself.

This would make a perfect last-minute Christmas gift for an, er, somewhat older person on your list (somebody my age, in other words!) Or treat yourself to some timeless entertainment. This should be well-distributed enough that there may still be time to pick it up for Christmas 2010. Or buy it in 2011, watch the first two discs, and save the third for next December. In any case, give this one some serious consideration.

“America’s Music Legacy” 4 DVD’s, sold separately (MVD)

2010-12-21T13:01:00.000-08:00

MVD has recently embarked on a reissue project involving a series of DVD’s under the heading “America’s Music Legacy”. Eight volumes are now available, in a concert format featuring a variety of artists within specific categories, originally taped as a series of television specials during the 1980’s. Since there is no real thematic link between the discs, and they are sold separately, I’ll review the first batch of four now, and the others at a later date. They are in no particular order, so I’ll simply review them in the order I viewed them.

“America’s Music Legacy: Rock ‘n Roll’ strikes me as the most problematical of the four. If you’re a purist looking for a serious-minded, hard-core rock’n’roll concert, you might find this disappointing. But if you want a fairly typical lineup of an oldies-for-nostalgia-purposes variety show, then you’re more likely to be satisfied. I confess I was a bit turned off right from the start by the simple fact that Fabian, one of the most sorry excuses for a “rock’n’roll” star ever concocted, is the host. The original title of the show seems to have been “Fabian’s Good Time Rock’n’Roll”. Alas, as host and star, he is allowed to “sing”, something he never was able to do, particularly in the pre-autotuning era. Actually, I’ve always found him to be a personable, ingratiating sort, but he never did carry a tune in his entire life. Still, he makes for a likable enough host.

The performers are a mix of 50’s and pre-Beatles-60’s, running the gamut from rockabilly to doo-wop to the twist to girl groups to pop. The Coasters’ arrangements are a bit looser and rhythmically modernized compared to the originals, but quite agreeable nonetheless. Lou Christie has a few intonation problems, but was still hitting the falsetto notes, perhaps even more fully than in the old days. His Vegas-style showmanship may be a bit overdone, but the crowd loves it. Leslie Gore, on the other hand, sounds a bit frenetic, as if she can’t get through her set fast enough. She is a much stronger performer than she shows here. The duet between Christie and Gore on “Since I Don’t Have You”, on the other hand, is one of the highlights of the set, as if the pressure to reproduce their hits for the nostalgia crowd is off, and they feel relaxed enough to just flat-out sing. Chubby Checker is another performer who is trapped by his old hits, but darn it, he can entertain with the best. In a medley of other people’s hits, he doesn’t exactly make you forget the originals, but he brings his own personality and years of experience into play to make them sound fresh.

The Crystals’ backgrounds sound a bit thin when divorced from the Spector wall of sound, but their singing and stage presence is decent. I do miss Darlene Love’s lead voice, though, on “He’s Sure The Boy I Love”. The Diamonds (down to three singers, none of whom look familiar) are bolstered by a solid lead singer (unidentified). Little Anthony performs solo, sans Imperials, but fortunately sounds essentially the same as he always has, one of the premier singers of pop-r&b, whether solo or with group. Another of the true artists in this set, Bo Diddley, is in fine fettle, but the backing band - which has been quite good throughout the rest of the show - seems to be hemming him in, so that he never really catches fire. Still, even second-level Bo is better than no Bo at all. Overall, an inconsistent, yet by no means bad DVD. Less fussy admirers of the artists than me will no doubt enjoy it.

“America’s Music Legacy: Gospel”, is hosted by the non-singing Levar Burton, who introduces a wide variety of gospel artists, mostly black, but some white; mostly contemporary (by 1983 standards), but some traditional; soloists, small groups, choirs. Burton makes the indisputable, yet often glossed-over observation that gospel music is influenced by blues, jazz, r&b, country, and rock, and all those influences are on display in varying degrees throughout the concert. By 1983, 70’s superstar Andrae Crouch was not considered as cutting-edge as he had been a decade earlier, but the funk rhythm section and blues-drenched guitar solo are perfect illustrations of what Burton was saying. But then, Crouch’s lead vocal and the responses of the chorus are straight out of gospel music’s past, thus making it easy to understand how the artist was able to command so much crossover attention in the 1970’s. An updated variation on the male quartet tradition is represented by the Winans (the original quartet, before family members joined in). The slick, smooth quartet is closer to the Gamble/Huff school of 70’s-soul vocal groups than to, say, the Swan Silvertones, but they’re quite good in their own way.

There are clips of some of the great gospel stars of the past, Mahalia Jackson and the Clara Ward singers, as well as a live performance by Ward alumna Marion Williams. But even the late, great Williams does a song with a calypso-style beat. Modern (1980’s standards) gospel choir style, in which a wailing soloist and choral responses are sung over a secular-influenced background, is represented by Doug Miller and his rousing choral ensemble. Walter Hawkins, who left his brother Edward Hawkins’ singer to achieve a more permanent fame (though Walter died this past year) fronts a somewhat thin-sounding, yet fully intense vocal group. By contrast, Sandra Crouch (twin sister of Andrae) harkens back to an earlier era in the choir sub-genre.

Wintley Phipps (name misspelled on the DVD case), now known primarily as a preacher and educator, represents a classically-trained baritone style mixed with a modern-gospel ballad-singer approach. Burton’s comparison of Phipps to Paul Robeson strikes me as hyperbolic, but he is more than acceptable at what he does. The Chambers Family Singers is an expanded edition of the psychedelic-era band The Chambers Brothers, with added family members. I’m afraid I found this larger group to be bland and uninspired. Linda Hopkins, whose career has wavered between gospel, blues, r&b, and Broadway, is heard in a more traditional vein here. The purity of her singing blends with a showbiz sheen which puts her in a category beyond her early mentors.

White gospel has never attracted critical attention to the degree that black gospel has. Nonetheless, the DVD tries to strike a bit of balance, by presenting two groupings of white performers. The Archers, a family singing trio, represent the adult-contemporary variety of CCM (Contemporary Christian Music), coming off as a sort of uptempo, jazzy, religious version of Manhattan Transfer. With a change of lyrics, these folks might have had pop potential, if that’s what they wanted. An older country-gospel style is sampled on the first song by the husband/wife duo of singer Reba Rambo and pianist Dony McGuire. McGuire sings their second song, which he tabs “Tap 40 Christian”.

In all, the gospel volume of this series get high marks for variety and choice of artists. As with almost any anthology, few people will enjoy everything to an equal extent, but I feel safe in recommending it to fans and curiosity seekers alike.

“America’s Music Legacy: Country and Western” is also a mostly well-chosen, variety-filled set, including some top-notch performances by a number of people. It was filmed at Knotts Berry Farm in 1981, with DJ-turned producer Gene Weed (a long-time Dick Clark associate) as the host. 1981 was a time when the Nashville scene - having become accustomed in the 1970’s to country-tinged pop singers such as Kenny Rogers and Olivia Newton-John -was becoming progressively slicker and more pop-conscious. Nevertheless, many of the excesses critics and detractors find in present-day Nashville music were still some years away. Thus, we have a mixture of the modern and the traditional, which a few artists (such as Moe Bandy) having stylistic influences in both camps.

Two stars of the that era, little heard from these days, get things rolling. Sylvia (no longer in show business) sounded much smoother on her studio recordings, but those viewers who remember “Drifter” and “Matador” (her biggest hit, “Nobody”, came out a year later) will enjoy her offerings. Razzy Bailey is now more active as a studio owner than a performer, and is far removed from the days when he was churning out one #1 hit after another. His soft-rock approach helped make it possible for today’s cosmopolitan country stars to replace him. Hearing this 1981 set almost 30 years later, he sounds a bit old-fashioned now, but comes off as an entertaining “old pro”.

The term “country and western” has rarely been used in recent decades, at least not by those in the know. But its use in the title of this DVD is justified by the presence of one of the great unsung movie “singing cowboy” heroes of country music’s past, Eddie Dean (1907-1999). In addition to his acting, Dean co-wrote one of the enduring honky-tonk laments, “One Has My Name” (“the other has my heart”) and the narrative tribute to deceased country artists, “Hillbilly Heaven” (later covered with great success by fellow singing cowboy, Tex Ritter). He was well into his mid-70’s by the time this was filmed, but his voice was still strong and controlled. His presence is definitely one of the highlights of the disc. Doug Kershaw first hit the scene in the mid-1950’s, as half of the Cajun-country brother duo, Rusty and Doug. By the 1970’s, Kershaw was a t.v. talk-show celebrity having added a rock’n’roll flair to the Cajun and country roots. The more he appeared on t.v., the more he relied on demented facial expressions and dance moves to live up to his “wild man” image, and America eventually tired of his antics. Perhaps it’s simply that I haven’t seen his shtick in a while, but he comes off as more of a showman than a crackpot in this set, in a performance which reminds me why I once found him so exciting.

Patti Page is thought of as more of an old-line 1950’s pop star than a country singer, though both country and big-band swing influences have always been part of her bag of vocal style. Of course, her signature song, “Tennessee Waltz” had originally been a country song (Pee Wee King and Redd Stewart), and Page recorded pop-country for Shelby Singleton’s Plantation label in the 1970’s. Even so, her set comes off rather too nightclubby for a country special. But vocally she still had “it” nearly 20 years after her last hit. I enjoyed her performances, they just seem out of place in this context. Moe Bandy was billed as a honky-tonk throwback in his heyday, but a song such as “Bandy the Rodeo Clown”, despite its obvious cowboy lyrics, could belong in the same category as some of Glen Campbell’s crossover hits. But though he lacked much of the nasal twang associated with honky-tonk, he was indeed proficient at the genre, as witnessed by “Take Me Back To Yesterday Once More”. Terry Gregory was being touted as an up-and-comer at the time this show was originally aired, but I have to confess I barely remember her. She’s a polished enough entertainer, but she doesn’t strike me as distinctive enough to break through into the upper echelons of show business.

Besides Eddie Dean, the two highlights of the disc come late in the set. Jerry Lee Lewis came to rock’n’roll with obvious country roots (plus gospel and boogie-woogie, of course), and made his late-60’s comeback as a neo-honky-tonk singer/pianist. But he has worked within and combined so many genres that it’s hard to predict what you’re going to hear at any Jerry Lee performance. The Jerry Lee presented on this disc is primarily the one-of-a-kind rocker with the pumpin’ piano (as it was once billed), drawing more from gospel and boogie-woogie perhaps than country. He looks healthy and sounds very much at ease, with a cool intensity that elevates a so-so song such as “I’m Rockin’ My Life Away” until it sounds like a near-classic. This is first-class Jerry Lee Lewis, well worth the price of admission. By the way, to the song list on the case, add “You Can Have Her”. Ricky Skaggs came out of bluegrass, became a Nashville superstar, then retreated back to the worlds of bluegrass and gospel. His set on this DVD captures him at the height of his country-music stardom. He’s backed by a solid band that is as capable as its leader in both tear-stained honky-tonk (“You May See me Walking”, “I’m Crying My Heart Out Over You”) and country-rock (“Get Your Heart Broke”). I didn’t realize until now how much I miss THIS Ricky Skaggs.

In sum, this is a fine collection which should please anyone who was listening to country music back in the 1980’s, and provide a few entertaining lessons for current fans who never bothered with country music until Rascal Flatts and Carrie Underwood came long.

The last disc under review at this time, “America’s Music Legacy: Rhythm & Blues” illustrates the somewhat ambiguous nature of that designation. Essentially, rhythm & blues is not a evolving style of music, but an overall term which incorporates almost any type of music popular among mass numbers of African-American listeners since the mid-1940’s. Co-host Brock Peters (who emcees the first half; Billy Eckstine takes over the second segment) is quick to acknowledge that fact, but refers to as r&b as “urbanized blues”, which can be justified, though it only goes so far. R&b can mean anything from the jazz-inflected blues style of the 1940’s, through a variety of nightclub styles, with stops along the way in doo-wop, soul music, Motown, funk, disco (sometimes), all the way to hip-hop. As with the other volumes in this series, this disc surveys a number of musical approaches to the variety of sounds labeled at various times as “rhythm and blues”.

Brook Benton gets us started with his biggest (though hardly best) hit, “Boll Weevil”, a novelty song with a very serious back-story, as well as 1959 hit, “Thank You Pretty Baby”. Mary Wells, with blond wig, represents Motown two decades after her hit days, with a saucy version of “My Guy”. She also shines on a funky, post-Motown song called “Gigolo” (her last hit, #2 on the disco charts in 1981, complete with rap midsection), which makes me wonder why Wells had so little success after leaving Motown. O.C. Smith adds a touch of country-pop with two Bobby Russell songs, his biggest hit, “Little Green Apples” and a soulful version of “Honey” which I personally find far superior to Bobby Goldsboro’s smash. Sam Moore is heard here after the break-up of the Sam and Dave duo (after which Dave Prater went out on the road with another Sam). I have never understod why Sam Moore’s recording career post-David has met with such spotty success, as Moore had by far the more distinctive voice and style of the duo. Frankly, I don’t even miss Dave on “Soul Man” and “Hold I’m Coming”. Peters introduces a film clip of r&b forerunner Slim Gaillard, from the days when Scatman Crothers was his drummer. Crothers himself comes out with a tenor guitar (or is it a baritone uke?), to do a jazzy vaudeville set, reminding us that his career went all the way back to the mid-1920’s. Though known by this time primarily as an actor (t.v.’s “Chico and the Man” and the movie “The Shining”, among many other roles), Crothers was still an ingratiating performer in his later years.

Billy Eckstine rivalled Nat “King” Cole as the ultimate black popular entertainer of his day (1940’s and well into the 50’s, after which he maintained a steady, though less spectacular career). He could boast of bona fides in jazz, blues, r&b, and mainstream-pop ballads.He wraps his warm, tremulous baritone around a couple songs from his big-band blues career, with such songs as “Jelly Jelly” and “Little Mama”. He also does a Duke Ellington medley, in which the song “Don’t Get Around Much Anymore” is misidentified on the case as “Mr. Saturday Night”, which would seem to be a mishearing of the song’s opening line, “Missed the Saturday dance”. Eckstein also introduces clips of a couple of his pioneering contemporaries, Louis Jordan, who brought his lighthearted blend of jazz and blues to a mass audience before the term r&b was even coined, and club singer-pianist Amos Milburn, doing one of his biggest hits, “Bad Bad Whiskey”. Eckstine also uses an old clip to introduce Ruth Brown, who offers a rollicking version of her classic “5--10-15 Hours” and a jazz reading of “Teardrops From My Eyes”. Don’t know who the sax soloist is behind Ms. Brown, but he has the Texas tenor sound down pat. I could use an entire DVD of Ruth Brown!

Billy Preston goes back to the pre-rock church-organ style of his pre-Beatles collaborations with a mostly instrumental, gospel-meets-Baroque-meets Ray Charles interpretation of “Summertime”. Eckstine also connects “Will It Go Round in Circles” to gospel music, which I find tenuous, but it’s a nice version of the #1 hit. The host talks about doo-wop - someone should have told him that the Ravens and the Orioles pre-dated the Larks - but no actual doo-wop is presented. The soft-jazz/pop vocal style of the r&b balladeer is represented by Gloria Lynne, with her 1964 hit “I Wish You Love”, as well as a duet with Eckstine. An unknown (to me) vocal trio named Sheer Delight is intended to relate the Motown influence to the music if the 1980’s, but I find them to be quite nondescript.

Several songs listed on the DVD case are missing from the program itself, which is a bit over 90 minutes, rather than two hours as stated. While I would have loved to hear Brook Benton sing “Rainy Night in Georgia”, I can’t say I feel bad missing out on another Sheer Delight song. The notes on the performers (a bonus feature common to all the DVD’s in this series) misses the fact that Billy Preston and Ruth Brown both died in 2006, so this may have been prepared before that year. In all, a good concert, perhaps not a great one, but with much worth seeing and hearing.

I’ll be back with reviews of the next four discs in the “America’s Music Legacy” series once I have them all (I’m missing one at the moment). But for now, this should give you some ideas for any last-minute Christmas shopping you may need to do for the music-lovers on your list!

Les Paul: Live in New York (Questar)

2010-10-26T12:45:00.000-07:00

Les Paul (1915-2009) wore a whole lot of hats during his very productive 94 years on this planet. In the 1930’s, he was country guitarist/singer/radio personality Rhubarb Red, and accompanied blues singers on the side. He began to play jazz under the influence of Django Reinhardt, formed a trio which included Jim Atkins (thus becoming a crucial influence on Jim’s kid brother, Chet), and played with the Fred Waring aggregation. And that was just the 1930’s.

The 1940’s found him accompanying Bing Crosby (a role filled a generation earlier by the great Eddie Lang), developing the solid-body electric guitar, as well as beginning his investigation of the possibilities of the tape recorder. His technical innovations included overdubbing, multi-tracking at multiple speeds, delay effects, and more. Slowed for a substantial period following an auto accident which caused him to request that his arm be set permanently in guitar-playing position, he had time to think up even more ideas for the 1950’s.

As a result, the ‘50’s would prove to be the apex of Les Paul’s popularity, as he developed an entirely new approach to making pop vocal-and-guitar records with his then-wife Colleen Summers, a/k/a Mary Ford. Employing most of the techniques he’d invented up to this point, the duo of Les Paul and Mary Ford had a number of huge-selling records, as well as their own syndicated five-minute t.v. series. Mary Ford had become sick of the couple’s touring schedule, the pressures of which led to the couple’s divorce and Paul’s semi-retirement. If that had been the last anyone ever heard of Les Paul, he would still be lionized as one of the most influential pop-music innovators of the 20th-century. But he wasn’t done yet.

In the mid-1970’s, Paul returned briefly to the spotlight to record two LP’s with Chet Atkins, which made a whole new generation (and, eventually, a couple subsequent ones) aware of who this man was and why he was important. After yet another decade out of the spotlight, Les Paul made his return to public performance. This brings us to the Last Act of his career, which is the subject of his “Live in New York” DVD. I have gone through the bother of sketching, in however incomplete a manner, the background of Paul’s amazing career arc, in part because this disc not only captures him in live performance, it attempts in spots to fill something of a documentary function. One of the few very minor failings of the disc is that it tends to assume that viewers are already familiar with most of the things the man had done in the past. They are discussed, but perhaps not explained to newcomers as thoroughly as they might be. To be sure, there are other Les Paul discs that ARE intended to be full-blown documentaries, so viewers who want to learn more after enjoying this DVD may turn to these for a more comprehensive look at his long life and career.

This is, as I say, only a minor quibble, because the focus of “Live In New York” is the late-period Les Paul, master guitarist and slightly risque entertainer, who spent what would have been the declining years for the average musician playing for listening and jamming every Monday night at the Iridium Jazz Club in New York. The particular Monday at the Iridium captured here is a very special one, Les Paul’s 90th birthday party, in 2005. Les was working alongside a top-notch backing combo (the members of which are given the opportunity to shine in their own right), dazzling audiences with his signature runs, ear-catching fills, and revamped arrangements which kept old favorite tunes fresh and continually interesting, not just for himself but for his listeners as well. He peppers the evening with slightly salty (but certainly not filthy) jokes and repartee. He brings to the stage a few lesser-known artists who apparently made regular appearances in the Les Paul jam session context, jazz singer Sonya Hensley, jazz violinist Christian Howes, and tap dancer Andrew Nemr. It’s good to see these worthwhile, yet not-quite-celebrity performers given a chance to be seen on this DVD alongside a fine assortment of more famous artists.

The top-name artists who get their chance to play with Les and the combo include David Grisman, Tommy Emmanuel, Jose Feliciano, Keith Richards (returning to his blues roots, as does Les in their duet), plus an extended turn by Les Paul’s godson, Steve Miller (who knew?). Given the informality of the situation, one should not be surprised when one hears an occasional off-kilter note, but there isn’t a slipshod performance in the lot. Indeed, there is a lot of inspiration, a lot of instrumental expertise, and a lot of fun on display throughout the entire jam session/party. I can’t imagine anyone viewing this disc with a sour expression on their face.

The Bonus Features are uniformly fine. “Thoughts on Les” (also filmed in 2005; in other words, they’re not memorial tributes) has a number of notables - Bonnie Raitt, Emmanuel, Bucky Pizzarelli, Tony Bennett, Steve Miller - speaking individually about Les Paul, the man and the musician, how they first encountered him, and what his accomplishments mean to them. We are also treated to an example of the 5-minute Les Paul and Mary Ford t.v. show, as they engage in some uncomfortably-delivered and awkwardly-scripted domestic dialogue before lip-and-hand-synching to “The World Is Waiting For the Sunrise”; an interview with the sound editor of the original shows; a Soundie of the Les Paul Trio (pre-Mary) doing a swinging version of “Dark Eyes”, marred by an unnecessary comic vocalist; and a very humorous appearance on the old “Omnibus” program, in which they are interviewed tongue-in-cheek by the very droll Alistair Cooke.

In all, when you combine the main feature and the Bonus clips, there are two jam-packed (pun partially intended) hours of first-class entertainment here. Sound and picture quality of the DVD are fine, but the Blu-Ray version is a mind-blowing experience. (I should point out that this is my very first Blu-Ray experience, and I am suitably impressed!) Whether you opt to buy the DVD or the two-disc Blu-Ray/DVD/Digital Copy deluxe version, you will not be disappointed.

“Eric Clapton: The 1960’s Review” (MVD)

2010-10-14T17:35:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it seems as if Eric Clapton has always been around.. But there once was a time when many rock’n’roll guitar heroes made their reputations putting out instrumentals on 45-RPM vinyl singles. There once was a time when almost all blues recordings were performed by African-Americans. (Yes, one can point to exceptions to both of these assertions.) And there once was a time when Eric Clapton was not yet a “god”.

This excellent DVD documentary takes us back to the beginnings of Clapton’s career and illustrates how he emerged as a game-changer, the first true Guitar Hero in the pre-video-game sense of the term, and the role model for so many white blues musicians to follow. As the title of the disc indicates, it is strictly dedicated to his most significant and most influential decade, the 1960’s. I do not, of course, mean this to denigrate all of his subsequent work. Even so, a large percentage of the performances which made Eric Clapton such a monumental figure took place during this seminal decade. The program includes reminiscences by several of the musicians who worked with him at that time, consistently intelligent commentary by historians and critics, and a gratifying number of video and audio clips to illustrate their theses.

We learn that Clapton’s earliest influences were not in blues per se - the genre was just on the verge of being introduced into England - but in the blues-influenced rock’n’roll of Bill Haley and the Comets and Elvis Presley. Then, still at a young age, he heard Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee. At age 13 (1958), he was able to convince his guardians (grandparents) to buy him a guitar. From that point on, he was devoted to hearing, learning, and playing the blues, primarily off American records. Finding such records was not an easy task in London in this period, but a “blues underground” was developing whereby fans could meet up with other like-minded Londoners to listen to their music of choice. Many of these fans started to form bands, such as the group called the Roosters, which featured young Eric, Ben Palmer (subsequently Cream’s road manager), Tom McGuinness (known for his work with John Mayall and, later, McGuinness Flint), occasionally adding Paul Jones (of Manfred Mann fame). (All three of them are interviewed here.) The Roosters were more of an education, a jamming outlet rather than a “serious” band, though they did play gigs. Right from the beginning, Clapton was noted for building convincing improvisations over several choruses. But despite his ongoing quest for blues authenticity, Clapton would move on to a more pop-oriented band, Casey Jones and the Engineers.

In the meantime, Clapton’s school chums Chris Dreja and Top Topham were putting together the Yardbirds. Unfortunately, Topham’s parents made him quit because he was too young. (He and Dreja also contribute significant recollections on this disc.) Clapton was asked to join, which he did, because at the time the Yardbirds were a full-fledged blues band, quite unlike the Engineers.. The Yardbirds soon had a chance to witness the “real thing” up close, when hired to accompany Sonny Boy Williamson II on an English tour, as well as an LP and t.v. appearances, excerpts of which we get to see here. Two things are clear from the Williamson clip, as well as from a clip of the Yardbirds performing ”I Wish You Would” on British television. One, Clapton was not the main focus of the band; indeed, the late singer/harmonica player Keith Relf was the only member to stand out at all. Second, the Yardbirds were a fairly weak blues band when compared to the “real thing”.

Clapton also found the Yardbirds’ legendary “rave-ups” (think the last portion of “I’m a Man”) were “manipulative”, too carefully planned. Though a clip of “A Certain Girl” shows Clapton beginning to find his distinctive sound, his solo simply doesn’t seem to blend in with the rest of the band. The last straw came when it was decided the Yardbirds needed a commercial hit. Clapton wanted to cover an Otis Redding song, but instead they recorded Graham Gouldman’s “For Your Love”. The band thought they had much more in them than just to be a blues cover band. They wanted to explore their own concepts, establish their own identity. What’s more, Dreja feels Clapton was beginning to think of himself as “the star” of the band. He left the band almost immediately after the “For Your Love” session; whether this was a voluntary move or not is still a matter for disagreement among the parties involved. This is all fascinating stuff for historians and fans alike, and is covered in far more detail on the disc than this potted summary can allow.

Clapton soon joined John Mayall (who is also interviewed), who had to let go of Roger Dean (not really a blues guitarist) to make room for him. This not only gave Clapton a chance to play in a more congenial blues-dominated atmosphere, it also gave him access to Mayall’s enormous blues record collection. It was during his employment with Mayall that Clapton’s guitar work became more professional, more distinctive, more aggressive. It was also during this time that the infamous “Clapton Is God” graffiti began to appear. He quickly became the star attraction of John Mayall’s Bluesbreakers.

Even so, Clapton was dissatisfied once again. He felt that Mayall was too much of a taskmaster who had too many rules for his sidemen, that he paid them too poorly, and subsequently held his musicians back. Thus, he accepted drummer Ginger Baker’s offer to join him in a new band. Clapton agreed, if two conditions were met - he insisted that Jack Bruce be added on bass, though Baker and Bruce did not see eye to eye while members of the Graham Bond Organisation. He also made it clear that would not play jazz, which was in both Baker’s and Bruce’s backgrounds.

The result was the first “power trio”, Cream, a lineup modeled after Buddy Guy’s band. But if people were expecting hard-driving, “authentic” blues, Clapton chose to shock the audience by releasing a light, piano-based ditty, “Wrapping Paper”, as the band’s first single. As Paul Jones rightly points out, Clapton found himself right back in the position he had found himself in with the Yardbirds, a rock band fusing blues guitar roots with psychedelia, far from blues purism a la Mayall. Atco Records’ boss Ahmet Ertegun felt that Clapton should be played up as the star of the show, with Bruce and Baker merely acting as accompanists. Of course, that’s not how it turned out. Clapton seemed to be pleased with the band’s psychedelic direction, since the move was made in the name of musical integrity rather than commercial motives. However, he soon became disenchanted with the long, extended improvisations favored by Bruce and Baker, and the internal conflicts brought the band to a woefully premature end. They recorded one last album to satisfy contractual obligations, even though they were no longer speaking to each other. (One quibble - I would have liked to have learned more about Bruce’s lyricist, Pete Brown, whose contribution to Cream’s success was crucial. He is acknowledged, but not discussed to any real extent.)

The public was expecting Clapton to put together a new band. The result was Blind Faith, featuring Steve Winwood’s vocals. Clapton found himself in a much-hyped “super-group”, which was simply not able to live up to advance expectations. After one pleasant, not particularly consequential album, the band split, and Clapton joined forces with their opening act, Delaney & Bonnie & Friends.

There, our story ends, before Derek and the Dominoes, before “461 Ocean Boulevard”, before “Tears in Heaven”, before Clapton’s re-dedication to the blues and Robert Johnson, before the Crossroads Festival. This means, of course, that there are 40 subsequent years yet to cover (and more in the future, one hopes). There is no indication that this is the first in a series. But if future volumes should appear, one can only hope that they will be handled with as much care, intelligence, taste, and commitment to the historical record as this DVD.

Extras include Chris Dreja’s thoughts on the Yardbirds’ experiences with Sonny Boy Williamson II, and why it turned out to be a much tougher gig than they had anticipated; Paul Jones on the little-known tracks credited to Eric Clapton and the Powerhouse, which appeared on an Elektra white-blues anthology called “What’s Shakin’” just prior to the formation of Cream; and recording engineer Bill Halverson on the song “Badge”, on which Clapton and co-writer George Harrison experimented with a new kind of foot pedal. There are also short text bios of the dozen people who were interviewed for this project.

“Louie Bluie” (Criterion Collection)

2010-09-23T15:17:00.000-07:00

Louie Bluie was a pseudonym used on a rare African-American string band 78 in 1934, a duet credited to “Louie Bluie and Ted Bogan” Decades later, the record fascinated Terry Zwigoff, a member of the Cheap Suit Serenaders, a somewhat eccentric string band led by underground comix hero R. Crumb. Indeed, it fascinated Zwigoff to such an extent that it altered the artistic direction of his life.

Zwigoff was determined to find out all he could about the elusive Louie Bluie, not realizing that the name hid the identity of fiddler/mandolinist Howard Armstrong, who had become something of a sensation in folk music circles during the 1970’s, again in the company of the very same guitarist, Ted Bogan, along with another veteran, Carl Martin, under the group name Martin, Bogan and Armstrong. Once he found Armstrong, he fortunately was able to convince him that he should make a documentary film about his life, focusing on the music he was still making in his 70’s. Bogan is featured in the film as well, but alas, Carl Martin had passed away in 1979, before Zwigoff entered the scene. During their 1970’s heyday, Martin, Bogan and Armstrong were considered the last of the old-time black string bands. Of course, since the film’s release in 1985, there has been a gratifying revival of interest in string band music among a handful of African-American musicians, most notably the Carolina Chocolate Drops (whom I would speculate took their name as an homage to a late 20’s band that featured Armstrong and Martin, the Tennessee Chocolate Drops).

Zwigoff convinced another legendary black mandolinist, Yank Rachell, to join Armstrong and Bogan for the film, but the three of them never quite click. Armstrong and Rachell may have both been born in Tennessee (Bogan was from South Carolina), but Armstrong’s deep roots in old-time country music and his penchant for applying these origins to old jazz and pop tunes doesn’t gel with Rachell’s Memphis-oriented blues style. Fortunately, Rachell pretty much stays in the background, aside from one solid blues number late in the film. Far more successful is the combination of Armstrong and Bogan with another guest invited by Zwigoff, Banjo Ikey Robinson, a sensational four-string banjo wizard popular on the Chicago scene during the 1920’s. The music these three masters make sounds as if they’d been playing together for years, even when they are merely jamming. The final member of this talented crew is Howard Armstrong’s son, Tom, on stand-up bass.

We get to know the off-stage personalities of these youthful old-timers as well. Armstrong may insult Bogan incessantly at the beginning of the film, but the latter merely smiles shyly, no doubt because he knows Armstrong is just razzing him. Armstrong actually seems to be a quiet, humble sort of guy for most of the film. Thus, it seems a bit jarring to learn that Armstrong was something of a pornographer in his sideline avocation as a graphic artist. He shows the camera a large book of his original artwork and writings that he assembled over the years, keeping it hidden away from the public, until he showed a few pictures here. Let’s just say there are certain, fairly short segments of the film you don’t want your kids to see. Not all of his art is salacious, by any means, and those drawings that are would appear to be based on folklore rather than hard-core. There is also a brief glimpse of his less racy pictures, which look surprisingly like very colorful, often elaborate folk-art equivalents of R. Crumb’s cartoons.

There is some fascinating interview material as well as a bit of a travelog, as Armstrong goes back to LaFollette, Tennessee to re-visit his old stomping grounds, finding some of his old acquaintances still alive and making music. Armstrong talks about how the black string bands would play country hoedowns every bit as much as white bands, but that the white musicians often refused to let black fiddlers play alongside them, even if they were better. Even so, Armstrong often played for white audiences at political rallies, excursions, etc. However, the white audiences didn’t care for blues, so he expanded his repertoire to include pop songs of the day. Thus we find over a half-century later, one of the most memorable performances in the film is a string-band version of the Bing Crosby standard, “Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams”. First in Tennessee, and later, after arriving in Chicago in the 1930’s, Armstrong and Bogan also found they could earn a fair sum of money playing Polish, Italian, and other ethnic musics for European immigrants. They play a pretty mean polka in the film as well.

Sadly, most of the key participants in this film are now gone. Ted Bogan and Ikey Robinson both died in 1990, aged 79 and 86, respectively. Yank Rachell lived to be 87, passing from the scene in 1997. Howard Armstrong carried on as a solo artist for several years after the film was made, and was even the subject of a second documentary, “Sweet Old Song”. He died at age 94 in 2003.

Several years after making this film, Zwigoff directed the well-known documentary “Crumb”, and more recently helmed the plot-based films, “Ghost World” (which earned an Oscar nomination for Best Screenplay) and “Bad Santa”. His film career has been somewhat inconsistent, but often rewarding artistically. 25 years after its initial release, “Louie Bluie” still holds up as one of the most delightfully entertaining music documentaries I’ve seen in quite a while.

The hour-long film is supplemented by an informative director’s commentary, a large chunk of unused footage, as well as some fine pictorial matter. Get this one.

Paul McCartney Really Is Dead: The Last Testament of George Harrison (MVD)

2010-08-22T13:42:00.000-07:00

Beginning in 1969, and lasting well into the 1970’s, thousands of Beatles fans and critics pored over their Beatles LP’s (both the discs and their covers), searching for clues which would “prove” that Paul McCartney died in an auto accident in 1966, and was replaced by a look-alike double. After a few years, “Paul is Dead” mania faded away, largely because few fans really believed it to be true.

Now, decades after the phenomenon seemingly became a distant memory, along comes a documentary DVD which would have us believe that Paul is indeed dead, and that the man who has continued to tour as Paul McCartney to this very day is actually a fellow named William Campbell. The major piece of evidence presented here is a narration supposedly recorded at the end of 1999 by George Harrison, while he was hospitalized after being robbed in his home by an intruder. I have to say that while the voice claiming to be George sounds vaguely like him, it sounds more like an imitator than the late Beatle himself. I’m also a bit leery that for a hospitalized man who claims to be in fear for his life, he gives a very cogent, detailed account of the whole “Paul is Dead” affair, neatly arranged and leaving out very little.

But these observations are merely impressions on my part. I have no access to voice-recognition technology to either prove or disprove that the voice is indeed George Harrison. As far as I’m concerned, you may choose to believe this truly to be a documentary presenting the real facts of the matter, or you may find it merely an ingenious ruse exploiting the fact that George Harrison is no longer with us to deny the veracity of the disc. In either case, this is still an entertaining and informative presentation of the many theories and elaborately uncovered “clues” which have become part of the “Paul is Dead” legend.

“George” describes the accident that killed Paul in gory detail, because so many of the hints that surfaced through the lifespan of the legend have to do with the condition of Paul’s body after the accident. We are told that Paul had given a ride to a young lady named Rita, who later became Heather Mills, and that her screaming-fan behavior caused Paul to lose control of his car. (I might point out that Internet bios of Heather Mills have her being born in 1968, two years after the accident.) An MI5 representative named Maxwell informed the remaining Beatles of the accident, claiming that the government wanted Paul’s death hushed up. If it were made public, the government feared, it would result in a rash of teen suicides. The three living Beatles were sworn to secrecy, and willingly went along with the deception at first, so as to keep the band going. Eventually, the band had second thoughts about their part in the cover-up, but Maxwell warned them they would be killed if they revealed that Paul was, in fact, really dead. “George” claims that the three Beatles began dropping hints and clues into song lyrics and on the LP covers as a hedge against public reaction should the truth ever become known.

If you accept this premise (and I have to confess, I find it far-fetched), the whole collection of clues and hints falls into place very neatly. William Campbell has plastic surgery to increase his resemblance to the dead Paul, and becomes known to the living Beatles as “False Paul”, shortened to “Faul”. The video includes an interview with the “real” George Harrison in which he seems to consistently refer to Paul as “Faul”. We are told that the plastic surgery caused Campbell to also be called “Rubber Paul”, which was proposed as the name of the Beatles’ next LP; to make the clue less obvious to Maxwell, “Rubber Paul” was changed to “Rubber Soul”. And on it goes, one convoluted clue (and explanation) after another in lyrics, in backwards recordings, in photos included on LP covers, in design elements, all explained in elaborate detail. The cover of ”Sgt. Pepper” shows the people, dead or alive, whom Paul would have wanted to attend his funeral. The “Yellow Submarine” refers to a coffin, and so on and so forth.

One of the most intriguing aspects of the video is the examination of the audio clues, in particular those involving “backward masking”, that is, sound bites dropped into the mix which cannot be distinguished while the LP is being played in real time, but which show up when the records are played backwards. These have always been one of the best known, but least-heard clues, because so few people have had the equipment to play vinyl records backwards. (Some have been presented in other documentaries, but not as many as presented here, in my experience at least.) But now, one can actually hear a whole collection of such legendary phrases such as “Turn me on, dead man” and “I buried Paul”. Truth be told, not all the backwards clues sound to me like what they’re supposed to sound like, but many do.

This would all be great fun, until we are told that John Lennon had had enough of the deception, and was ready to blow the whistle on the whole charade. Maxwell warned him not to do it, but then Mark David Chapman assassinates John. The disc attempts to make clear that this was a direct result of John’s defiance of MI5.

Throughout the DVD, there is just so much “evidence” trotted out and explained with such conviction that one can either laugh it off as a total hoax, become convinced that Paul McCartney is really dead, or simply be impressed by the massive amount of effort producer John Gilbert put into tying together so many factors of the Paul is Dead deception. It’s a measure of how well Gilbert has put this together that there were moments when I was ready to buy into his story.

The programs lasts 97 minutes. The bonus features include MP3’s of the soundtrack music, and an only tangentially relevant 10-minute interview with the late music journalist Al Aronowitz, on how he introduced the Beatles to Bob Dylan and to marijuana. Not uninteresting, but it doesn’t really fit into the story of “Faul”.

“Chasin’ Gus’ Ghost”; documentary by Todd Kwait (Folk Era Records) Paul Rishell and Annie Raines – “A Night In Woodstock” (Mojo Rodeo Records)

2010-07-27T16:44:00.000-07:00

These two DVD’s were both put together by producer/director/writer Todd Kwait, and feature overlapping performers, so it makes sense to me to review the two of them together, though musically they are quite distinct.

“Chasin’ Gus’ Ghost” is an idea that has been WAY overdue – a full-length documentary film about the history of jug band music. What’s more, it doesn’t cover just the original jug band heroes of the 1920’s/30’s (Clifford Hayes, Earl McDonald, Whistler’s Jug Band, Will Shade and the Memphis Jug Band, and Cannon’s Jug Stompers, featuring Noah Lewis, Ashley Thompson, and the “Gus” of the title, Gus Cannon). It also features vintage footage and modern-day performances by some of the revered figures of the 1960’s jug band revival, most notably the Jim Kweskin Band (with Fritz Richmond, Geoff Muldaur, and Maria Muldaur). Also covered from the Revival era is the Even Dozen Jug Band (which included John Sebastian, Joshua Rifkin, Steve Katz, Stefan Grossman, David Grisman, and the very same Maria Muldaur when she was still Maria D’Amato; all at the beginnings of their careers). (I would have liked more discussion of Dave Van Ronk’s role in the revival, which is one of the few criticisms I can come up with.) The story is brought further up-to-date when the Kweskin Band and Sebastian travel to Japan to interact with the highly active Japanese jug band scene. There is also a segment on Sankofa Strings (an African-American band which overlaps in personnel with the Carolina Chocolate Drops), who are attempting to bring awareness of jug band music back to the black community which spawned it, then spurned it.

Much of the focus on the early days is on Cannon’s Jug Stompers, since it was the revival of key parts of Cannon’s repertoire that sparked Kwait’s interest in the jug band phenomenon and indeed proved crucial to the 60’s revival. The first inkling most folkies had that a jug band revival was even possible came when the Rooftop Singers had a monster hit with Gus Cannon’s oldie, “Walk Right In”. (The late Erik Darling lived long enough to tell the tale of his hit on camera and sing a somewhat curious arrangement of the song, in which he substitutes his harmony part for the familiar melody.) Is there any one interested in this music who discovered it during this revival period (as I did) and did not fall under the mysterious spell of ”Going To Germany”? We learn that the phrase “goin’ to German’” had nothing to do with the European nation, but refers to a town near Memphis called Germantown. The film also visits what’s left of “Minglewood” (more properly, Menglewood) home of a box factory which, like Germantown, was a place where black people were able to find employment. “Minglewood Blues” was one of harmonica virtuoso Noah Lewis’ great contributions to the jug band world; Lewis would go on to utilize the setting again for another song, “The New Minglewood Blues”. This song was one of the first recorded by the Grateful Dead, which itself evolved out of a jug band. In fact, Bob Weir is one of the interviewees in this film as well.

This leaves John Sebastian, who is one of the stars of the DVD, both as an interviewee and as a featured performer. Much is made of the fact that jug band music was a major influence on the Lovin’ Spoonful. This is, of course, impossible to deny. But to think of them as an “electric jug band” leaves out a lot of their other, subsequent influences. Still, it’s a treat to hear Sebastian sing a bit of Cannon’s “Prison Wall Blues”, and to recognize it as the source of “Younger Girl”, another piece of the puzzle directly traceable to Gus Cannon. As you can see, Kwait really was “chasin’ Gus Cannon’s ghost” in this film. Sebastian not only performs in the film with his more recent outfit, the J Band (which includes Paul Rishell and Annie Raines), he achieves a life-long dream to perform on-stage with the Jim Kweskin Band. Kweskin and the Muldaurs sound as fine as ever, but alas Fritz Richmond (also seen in vintage footage), the greatest of all washtub bass players and a mean hand at the jug as well, was slowly dying of lung cancer at the time the film was being made. Richmond becomes as much a focal point of the film as Gus Cannon. The Japanese segments, in fact, were part of a Fritz Richmond memorial tribute, featuring the American guests alongside the Japanese bands MadWords (featuring Uncle Mooney) and the Southern Chefs. One person obviously missing from the Kweskin segments of the film is David Simon, a/k/a “BrunoWolf”. It seems no one has any idea what happened to him.

There is next-to-no film footage of the original jug bands, though Kwait does include an excerpt of the famous 1930 film clip of Whistler’s Jug Band with their three (count ‘em) jugs. Roscoe Goose and the late Gil Fish of current favorites, the Juggernauts, offer insight into the early Louisville Jug Band scene, while jug band entrepreneur Rod Wenz accurately observes that more people outside of Louisville know about that city’s crucial formative role in the music than do people in Louisville itself. Thankfully, the Louisville classic “Banjoreno” (Clifford Hayes’ Dixieland Jug Blowers) is sampled here. There is footage available on Youtube of Will Shade and Charlie Burse in the 1950’s that might have been used, but the Memphis Jug Band gets its due nonetheless. Swedish historian Bengt Olsson and Charlie Musselwhite are along to assess Memphis’ and Will Shade’s contributions. Historian (and Van Ronk jug band associate) Sam Charters offers valuable perspective as well.

There’s so much more I could say about this exceptionally fine film. No, it doesn’t include everything, and some statements may be open to interpretation. But it accomplishes an awful lot in 100 minutes. There is additional info on a commentary track featuring Kwait, Sebastian, and others. Other bonus features include a number of anecdotes told by Fritz Richmond, and a conversation between John Sebastian and performer/historian Delmark Goldfarb. (I should add that there is a CD companion to the film, available separately, consisting of a live performance featuring many of the film’s principal figures.) It’s always gratifying to be able to say that a documentarian working in a neglected musical area got it right. Todd Kwait got it right.

When you consider guitarist Paul Rishell and harmonica ace Annie Raines’s reputation as being true masters of acoustic blues, one might expect their concert DVD, “A Night in Woodstock” to be a purist’s delight. And indeed, the first half is a no-nonsense, thoroughly entertaining acoustic set, ranging from Piedmont rags to Delta blues, with a detour into swing territory. There is also an affecting rendition of Rishell’s most famous song, the blues ballad “Blues on a Holiday”. Rishell plays a gorgeous National steel-bodied guitar that’s a treat to see as well as to hear, while Raines is an absolute dynamo on harp. But then, the electric guitars and rhythm section come out, for a second half consisting of driving, roadhouse amplified blues. And it’s just as good as the acoustic half.

One of the reasons for this is a top-notch guest appearance by the Paul and Annie’s J Band boss, John Sebastian. The proceedings particularly catch fire when Sebastian and Raines get into blues-harp duets, something one doesn’t hear often enough, not this effectively. Rishell, meanwhile, acquits himself very well on electric guitar, and the band is a crack unit. It’s not until one listens to the commentary track (Rishell, Raines, Sebastian) – the commentary may be found under “audio options” – that one is aware of the massive problems the musicians and filmmaker Todd Kwait had to work under to get something that looks downright effortless. The music is energetic, beautifully played and sung, with a nice balance of styles in both formats, and a just-plain good time. There is nothing especially visual about Rishell and Raines’ act, but it’s always great to see fine musicians doing their thing this effectively.

The Beatles: Rare and Unseen (MVD)

2010-03-19T16:44:00.000-07:00

The Beatles – Rare and Unseen (MVD)

First off, let me acknowledge that I’m not so rabid a Beatles collector that I can judge whether these clips truly are as rare as presented here. In this Internet Age, after years of rampant piracy of unreleased material by both major and minor recording artists, it seems hardly anything can remain “unseen” for very long. The best I can do is tell you what’s on this DVD, and give my reaction to it.

As it turns out, my reaction to the presentation as a whole is very positive. Subtitled “The Unofficial Account of The Biggest Band In the World”, this would appear to be a British television documentary, and a very good one at that. While the rare, unseen footage is consistently interesting, the main feature of this disc from my point of view would be the excerpts of interviews with a variety of people “who were there” in the Beatles’ early days, supplemented by the comments of a few young Beatles fans who grew up to be celebrities in their own right.

Among the interviewees who were there, we hear from Allan Williams, Gerry Marsden (of Gerry and the Pacemakers), Tony Bramwell, Hurricane Smith (in his role as George Martin’s recording engineer), and John Lennon himself, in portions of a rare 1975 French t.v. interview. But the most revealing comments of all come from the largely unheralded Colin Hanton, the original drummer for the Beatles’ early skiffle-band incarnation, the Quarrymen, whose story is rarely told so well. The early fans who would later become celebrities include Phil Collins, Cockney Rebel’s Steve Harley, and – of all people – “Dancing With the Stars” judge Len Goodman. Discussing the Beatles 1963 Paris concert are Mickey Jones (who was the drummer for Trini Lopez, who was also on the bill for the concert) and French star Sylvie Vartan, also on that concert.

The early history of the Beatles is given a quick, yet surprisingly thorough runthrough. However, once the band hits stardom in America, the narrative leaps ahead to the filming of “Magical Mystery Tour”. One might surmise that the producers thought the mid-60’s were too well documented to warrant rehashing. In any case, this sin of omission, while quite noticeable, does not seriously detract from what IS here. It is worth mentioning that there is also some intelligent analysis of the Beatles as both musicians and as lyricists, so the disc does dig deeper than the more frequently encountered “golly-gee-whiz” fan hagiography.

As to the unseen footage, what we are offered are amateur, home-movie clips, all of them silent. The question as to whether they were originally shot as silent films, or if the music is missing due to the inability to secure rights, is left unanswered. But the footage is worth seeing, in any case. We have the earliest known footage of the Beatles on stage, Liverpool, February, 1962; the only surviving footage of their first tour of Scotland; home movies of the boys having fun on holiday in the Channel Islands; the aforementioned French concert (courtesy of Mickey Jones), and home movies shot on film sets. If you’re a hard-core fan and you haven’t seen this material before, consider it significant. Otherwise, consider it a bonus to go along with the documentary interviews.

The “extra features” consist of longer chunks of the interviews excerpted in the main body of the documentary itself. The Colin Hanton segment is particularly important when heard in this longer format. There are also fascinating details about the reaction to the Beatles’ visit to Tokyo.

I have to confess I’ve seen some pretty shoddy, almost worthless Beatles’ DVD documentaries in my day. “Rare and Unseen” definitely stands out above the crowd, as one that is well worth seeing.

Nancy Apple’s Song Slinger Showdown, Part 1

2009-08-13T17:19:00.000-07:00

This DVD showed up on my doorstep probably over a year ago, and promptly fell through the cracks. I’m glad I finally did dig it out from the pile, because there’s some very worthwhile and enjoyable music on this disc.
The DVD documents what is apparently a monthly event in Memphis, a song-swap between Nancy Apple and a few other acoustic singer-songwriters. On this particular night in October 2007, she was joined by Phil Lee and Jake Kelly. Apple acts as host, in a format which is reminiscent of the Texas songwriter showcases which were an occasional, yet significant feature of “Austin City Limits”, back in the days when ACL was an outlet for artists who were better-known in Texas than elsewhere, rather than a hype-machine for pop stars.
ACL’s songwriter showcases had more artists per show, but this three-artist format gives each artist the opportunity to show varied aspects of their repertoire. Apple sings a song, Lee sings one, Kelly sings one; and then the process repeats (though Kelly only gets three songs, as opposed to four for the others). In between songs, the three artists sit at a diner-style booth and swap anecdotes. The whole affair is very informal, occasionally a bit too much so, which leads to a few empty moments between songs that may make you wish they’d get back to singing. Fortunately, they do.
Stylistically, the approach of all three artists might be termed “non-commercial country music”, though the fact that they all play acoustic guitars (Apple plays accordion textures on one song, while the other two also blow harmonicas when appropriate) will slant this more toward the contemporary-folk singer-songwriter audience than to modern-day pop-country fans. Nancy Apple can be as hard-core-country as Loretta Lynn, but without the Nashville production, and with a hint or two of rock around the edges. Phil Lee, “The Mighty King of Love” conjures up what Bob Dylan might have sounded like in the 1960’s if he’d had a sense of humor. Jake Kelly has a distinctively thin, high-pitched voice, which I’m unable to compare to anyone, though his writing makes me think of John Prine in a way I can’t pin down. In other words, he’s an original – but then, all three artists are when you get down to it.
If you’re a fan of Texas singer-songwriters, and wonder why there aren’t any artists working in related styles in other parts of the country, well of course there are. Indeed, there are a whole lot of them. They simply don’t get the publicity they deserve. Nancy Apple, Phil Lee, and Jake Kelly are just three of the many worthy artists playing acoustic guitars, writing fine songs, and reaping few of the rewards which should be coming their way. Their names may not be familiar, but they should be heard and, as in this case, seen.

Onward Brass Band - The Tradition Continues (CD review)

2009-08-08T11:40:00.001-07:00

The current edition of the Onward Brass Band, led by drummer Kurt Nicewander, is the legitimate inheritor of one of the grandest traditions in all of American Music, that of the New Orleans brass band.
With a history dating back over 130 years, the present edition of the band may not sound exactly like the original unit, which was never recorded. The original Onward Brass Band was most likely a fairly straightforward marching band in its earliest incarnation, which predated the era in which historians believe jazz was invented. However, “The Tradition Continues”, the first new CD by the current edition of the Onward Brass Band, ties together most of the other strains of New Orleans music – turn-of-the-Twentieth-Century marching band styles, jazz, blues, and even r&b – into a microcosm of the unique sounds which have developed in the Crescent City throughout the past century.
The album gets off to a rousing start with the standard “Bourbon Street Parade”. This
is, of course, especially appropriate, since the song was written by the great Paul
Barbarin, the man who revived the Onward Brass Band in the mid-1950’s, following an
extended period of inactivity for the band. Although the tune is often played in an Al Hirt/Dixieland style, the Onward’s version is much closer in sound and spirit to the distinctive New Orleans street parade of its title. Where else but on the streets of New Orleans would a syncopated dance rhythm and collective improvisation be superimposed on a march beat? Trombonist Freddie Lonzo’s gritty vocal includes a few cracked notes, but these only add to the genuine air of spontaneity felt throughout the performance. There’s an energy and enthusiasm to the group improvisation on the last chorus and coda that make it seem as if the commercialization and modernization which some observers claim to hear in present-day New Orleans music has never taken place.
The medley of “Closer Walk – Didn’t He Ramble” depicts another New Orleans cultural tradition – the so-called “jazz funeral”. The spiritual “Just a Closer Walk With
Thee” is played as a dirge, which serves as musical accompaniment to the mourners as
they slowly and somberly make their way to the cemetery. After the burial, as it were, the band breaks into a sprightly stepping version of “Didn’t He Ramble” (a long-time New Orleans favorite with a rich history of its own, dating back to a rather rowdy English folk song of unknown antiquity, “The Darby Ram”). The way back from the funeral thus turns into a cathartic celebration of life. The Onward’s version easily evokes images of second-line dancers and a crowd walking rhythmically as they wave hankies and parasols. Dimitri Smith captures the spirit of the affair with an uncommonly agile tuba solo, followed by an ear-catching, polyrhythmic break by the drum line (two snares and a bass drum.
I have to confess I’ve heard “Saints Go Marching In” a few too many times by now.
But let’s face it, the tune is pretty much expected in this context. To their credit, the members of the Onward Brass Band manage to add enough touches of their own to keep it interesting and entertaining nonetheless.
And what would a tradition-conscious New Orleans disc be without at least one tune inextricably linked to Louis Armstrong? The band’s rendition of “Struttin’ With Some Barbecue” is great fun. Tom Fischer, who proves to be a solid exponent of classic New Orleans clarinet style throughout the disc, comes up with some fine ideas on his solo, and the band turns on the burners for the last chorus once again.
Professor Longhair’s “Mardi Gras In New Orleans” dates from a later period in New
Orleans’ rich and varied musical history. Even so, Longhair’s distinctive rhumba rhythm makes an easy transition to Onward’s syncopated shuffle beat, in an arrangement that ties together elements of many eras and many styles of New Orleans music.
Indeed, in a genre closely associated with collective improvisation, the Onward Brass Band shows off some tight ensemble chops on the album. The riffing horns behind the solos in “Back Home Again in Indiana” are particularly enjoyable. This is another one of those performances that just keeps building in intensity. The ascending ensemble lines on the chorus of “Lil’ Liza Jane” are also noteworthy. And don’t overlook the way in which Smith’s tuba whoops fit into the arrangement of “Whoopin’ Blues”.
I do need to make mention of Freddie Lonzo’s tailgating trombone work, a definite
highlight throughout the album. There is nothing politely decorous about his playing, which is gruff, gutsy, earthy, with a delightful jump in his rhythm. Check out his brassy blats on “Just A Little While To Stay Here.”
The only substantive criticism I can make is that the energy level drops a bit too much when the vocals enter in “Down By the Riverside” and “Lil’ Liza Jane”. Even so, the band builds up a full head of steam again before these tracks are over. This is a really a minor carp when you consider the high level of entertainment maintained through the rest of the album.
Tradition can be deadly when an artist or band tries too hard to slavishly reproduce the past as carefully and mechanically as possible. The Onward Brass Band, however, take the opposite approach, utilizing and combining New Orleans traditions while making them relevant to the present moment with energy, inspiration, and drive. This is New Orleans brass band music rooted in a glorious past, yet still alive and well in the 21st Century. Top-notch!
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Slight Format Change

2009-08-08T11:35:00.000-07:00

I've decided to make a slight change in the format of "GenEc DVD Review". It will remain primarily a DVD review blog, and the name will remain the same. However, I will VERY occasionally post reviews of selected CD's that I feel are of special merit, and which have not yet attracted as much attention as they deserve. I hope this slight change meets with the approval of readers.
Thank you.

John Mayall's Bluesbreakers - Live At Iowa State University

2009-07-28T12:49:00.000-07:00

This concert performance by the 1987 edition of the Bluesbreakers serves as a telling example of why John Mayall has never quite become famous, yet has been able to keep a substantial career going for some 45 years or so.

John Mayall has become most renowned for discovering and nurturing the talents of a
surprising number of British blues and rock heroes. Eric Clapton came to his early
maturity after leaving the Yardbirds for the Bluesbreakers. While with Mayall, Clapton played alongside Jack Bruce, which led to the formation of Cream. The original lineup of Fleetwood Mac was rife with Mayall alumni. Mick Taylor became a Rolling Stone after his turn as a Bluesbreaker. These are the best-known names, but many more Mayall veterans have enjoyed at least a modicum of success over the years.

This 1987 edition of the band is no exception, with two bona fide blues-stars-to-be in the lineup, both of them Americans. Walter Trout had already spent time with Canned Heat before he joined Mayall, but it was turn as a Bluesbreaker that built his reputation to the point where he was able to step away in 1989 and start his own hugely successful career. And no wonder - his guitar scorches with such intensity in this Iowa State performance, I’m surprised it doesn’t burn a whole in the disc! The second guitarist in the band was Coco Montoya, still putting in his apprenticeship, but taking advantage of a few opportunities to show off his potential in the process.

Yet while Mayall is the leader and the musician featured most prominently throughout, he leaves this viewer with somewhat more ambiguous feelings. He acquits himself well on harmonica, keyboards, and occasional guitar, but he’s not really a technical master of any of them – good enough, but not great. He obviously knows his blues, and makes all the right moves. But in the end, he comes across, perhaps not as a lightweight, but certainly a lighter weight than Trout and Montoya, just as he was a lighter weight than the famous 60’s rock stars he spawned. Still, he’s an effective entertainer, puts on a good show, and keeps the audience (as well as this reviewer) coming back for more.

BUT – and it’s a crucial “but” – he simply is not, has never been, and at age 76 (in 2009), most likely never will be a great singer. His voice is bland, lacking in power and presence. If he indeed feels the emotion of the songs, he fails to communicate that feeling to the listener. He’s not so objectionable a singer that you want to scream at your screen, you simply wish he could be better. The thing is, in the long run, he’s an enjoyable performer - not a genius, just an enjoyable performer. What’s more, given the contributions of Walter Trout, Coco Montoya, and the rhythm section (Bobby Haynes, bass; Paul Hines, drums), this is certainly an enjoyable concert disc. Fans will want it, no question. People who may be unfamiliar with Mayall will be glad to hear Trout and Montoya in their formative years. But if you’ve disliked John Mayall in the past, you probably won’t become a convert on the basis of this disc.

The disc is considerably shorter than the length stated on the case. Extras include text bios and discographies of the principal players. American distribution is by MVD Visual.

The Story of the Yardbirds

2009-07-07T11:25:00.000-07:00

The official story of rock in the 60’s wants us to believe that the Beatles were the Great Original Innovators of the era, and that everyone else merely followed their lead.
Yet months before ”Norwegian Wood”, the Yardbirds attempted to record a sitar-and-tabla intro to “Heart Full of Soul”, only to realize that the result was a much thinner sound than they felt they needed. Thus, Jeff Beck came up with his now-famous nasally, sinuous distorted-guitar intro, which certainly ranks as one of the very first of all Indo-rock fusions. This is just one of the fascinating stories to be found on this British-made DVD documentary (released in the US by MVD) about one of the least-understood and most under-appreciated innovative rock bands ever, the Yardbirds.
You want to talk innovation? While the Beatles were putting the finishing touches on “Rubber Soul”, with its fairly tentative (albeit impressive) moves toward a more “artistic” style, the Yardbirds were releasing one of the most mind-bogglingly unexpected rock experiments released up to that time, their drastic re-interpretation of Bo Diddley’s “I’m A Man”. It wasn’t simply that the Yardbirds’ version was so much faster and looser than Bo’s slow grind. Partway through, the structure of the piece seems to crumble away, as the band gets ready to hammer madly on a single chord. Beck soon begins strumming wildly, scratching at the strings in a timbre that seems virtually devoid of pitch, entering the world of pure noise. With this one bold move, rock’n’roll was forever altered off its firmly established course of being commercial dance music for teenagers. Rock had found its avant-garde.
To be sure, there were precursors, most notably Link Wray’s biting power chords in the late 1950’s and Dick Dale’s heavily reverbed tremolo picking of the early 60’s, but neither broke with rock‘s melodic and rhythmic past as definitively as the Yardbirds did on “I’m a Man”. With one uncommon record, the Yardbirds had set into motion what would develop on one hand into psychedelia, and on the other, heavy metal. The Yardbirds would continue to explore the experimental periphery of rock, toying with tempo changes, random voices, distorted timbres, etc., though always rooted squarely within the blues roots of rock’n’roll.
Nevertheless, the Yardbirds had one major failing, which is pointed out more than once in this documentary. One can overlook the fact that their technical skills were sometimes lacking, since the ideas were there, and were realized adequately enough. One can forgive the indifferent production they were sometimes afforded, which is more a symptom of the times than anything else. Their fatal mistake, however, was not recognizing that the times were changing, that the revolution they had helped set into motion (and we must certainly credit the Beatles, the Mothers of Invention, and Beach Boys as significant contributors here as well) was taking place primarily in the LP format. Thematic “concept albums”, long-form compositions, LP’s built around variety within a distinct stylistic unity, an overall “progressive” outlook – these had all replaced the 7-inch pop single as the way rock musicians were expected to head if they wished to be taken seriously. The Yardbirds, however, heeded the bad advice of their record company and producers, and thus continued to think of themselves as a pop-singles band. Despite the increasing chasm between “serious” adult rock LP buyers and teen pop fans, the Yardbirds continued to gear their music toward the pop charts. When the hits dried up, so did the Yardbirds.
Almost everyone of importance connected to the Yardbirds (aside from singer Keith Relf, who died in a freak accident in the 1970’s) is interviewed here. Eric Clapton talks frankly about how, even in their earliest incarnation as a blues band, he left the band because of his dissatisfaction with the band’s pop and rock direction, whereas he wanted to keep the focus purely on the straight-ahead blues he preferred at that time. (One may wish to pause and reflect on Clapton’s music of the 1970’s in this light.) Chris Dreja talks about how Clapton was such a perfectionist, he would spend time practicing how to hold the guitar. Beck talks about how he came to join the band, when the guitarist they really wanted, Jimmy Page, was unavailable at the time. He also reveals the influence of Booker T. and the MG’s and the Mar-Keys on his music. (I wouldn’t have guessed). There are many such revelations, though long-time hard-core fans may very well be familiar with much of the material.
There are also many live and video (lip-synching and, er, hand-synching) clips. The earliest ones, with Clapton still in the band, come off in retrospect as pretty weak, blanched blues. Many of the clips suffer from shoddy sound quality, but retain their fascination as moments in time nonetheless. The clips that hold up best are, ironically, from the band’s later period as a four-piece, with Jimmy Page playing the lone guitar on arrangements originally conceived for two guitars. (The four-piece version of “Happenings Ten Years Time Ago” is the strongest, most-coordinated live clip here.) There is also a too-brief sample of Jimmy Page bowing his guitar as a Yardbird on “Dazed and Confused”, a song which is, of course, more closely associated with the next phase of Page’s career.
The main documentary runs a very-packed 52 minutes. There is also a very welcome bonus feature, a 14-minute performance for German TV by the 1967 four-piece Yardbirds lineup of Relf, Page, Dreja, and Jim McCarty. The band was nearing its commercial ebb and would soon disintegrate, but they’re in top-form here. The disc comes with a 20-page booklet, which brings the Yardbirds’ saga up to 2003. The booklet was obviously assembled to accompany their comeback CD (which featured Dreja and McCarty alongside new Yardbirds members, plus a raft of special guests). Not having seen nor heard that CD, I can’t comment on whether this is an exact reproduction of the notes for that release or not.
Needless to say, this DVD is an item no self-respecting Yardbirds fan should be without. With any luck, it will extend much further than that audience, and help restore the band to its rightful place among mainstream critics, who have ignored the Yardbirds’ highly significant and historically crucial innovations for far too long.

Amy Winehouse: The Girl Done Good (MVD)

2009-06-18T10:50:00.001-07:00

This British documentary DVD came out last year. I decided not to review it at that time, because – quite honestly – I didn’t know if I would be writing a review or an obit. Her tabloid-fodder life had sunk that low. Lately, however, she has managed to maintain a surprisingly low profile, which suggests that it may be time for a re-assessment of her career to begin.
“The Girl Done Good” covers Winehouse’s music and tempestuous goings-on up to the end of 2007. The first half-plus is devoted to a serious examination of her music, career highlights, stylistic influences. Needless to say, as the film progresses, the story becomes increasingly depressing, as the singer seems hell-bent on squandering her talents and, potentially, her life.
Our story begins with a rather plain, unassuming-looking mid-teenager with normal-looking hair and a voice and style far more mature than her years would warrant. As the people who discovered and nurtured her in these years suggest, she seemed headed for a career as a bluesy jazz singer on the order of Billie Holiday and Dinah Washington (seen in clips which demonstrate their influence on the young Briton). To be sure, such a career path would most likely not have brought her worldwide fame, and one can only speculate how differently her life might have turned out if she had stuck to this road.
Friends, associates, and most telling of all, a few well-chosen British music critics recount her subsequent moves toward soul revivalism. Almost to a person, the interviewees walk the line between worshipful adulation and bewilderment as to the way things turned out. These on-camera experts include three performers who know a thing or two about the ups, downs, pressures and pitfalls that can befall a rising star. Barb Jungr is known as a cabaret performer, but also works behind the scenes as a vocal arranger and educator. Mari Wilson’s beehived performance style of the 1980’s may have prefigured Winehouse’s visual style, but she also knows how quickly hot careers can cool down when the public gets weary of the flavor of the week. Veteran American soul singer, Geno Washington, who is far better known in the UK than at home, has seen his career take a few bounces since the British Invasion era, never reaching the heights his talents deserved.
Winehouse’s accomplishments and subsequent excesses are discussed in chronological order. This may be especially instructive for American viewers, since her CD’s were not issued in this country in the order they were recorded. Thus, our view of her musical development has been somewhat distorted by the vagaries of the music business. The DVD includes excerpts from Winehouse’s music videos and televised live performances. The more recent performances can be downright depressing, as the emotionalism and vocal skills she displayed in her early jazz performances have all but dissipated. The point is made, though, that she still (as of late 2007) was capable of good days. After seeing the evidence of her self-destructiveness, one can only wonder how.
The documentary lasts a packed 78 minutes. Extras include short bios of the contributors and an Amy Winehouse quiz. (My score was adjudged to be “mediocre”).
In all, this is a very nicely done package with much well-considered discussion and hardly any fluff.

Art Tatum: The Art of Jazz Piano

2009-06-06T12:14:00.000-07:00

If I were the sort who believed extra-terrestrials come to Earth and walk among us, I could easily convince myself that Art Tatum was one of them, a benevolent being from a distant planet who was sent to this world to open up new musical possibilities for us. Pretty fanciful, right?
After all, no one but an ET could race through such rapid, harmonically lush piano runs, stop, change directions, and dash off again in dazzling profusion. No one else played like Art Tatum before Art Tatum came to Earth. Well, perhaps Luckey Roberts on a good night. But to my ear, Roberts - a product of an earlier era - had neither the imagination nor the advanced harmonic sense of an Art Tatum. What’s more, we’ve come to think (rightly or wrongly) of Luckey Roberts as a sometimes-memorable composer, rather than an influential pianist. Tatum may not be remembered as a composer, but his intricate pianistic arabesques affected the course of jazz far more than Roberts’ catchy rags.
Without Art Tatum to lead the way, there would have been no Oscar Peterson, not to mention any number of virtuoso Oscars manqué who dazzle us with a lot of flash, and little substance. But it doesn’t stop there. While I confess I had never considered the point before, this documentary film makes an excellent case for Tatum being a major stepping-stone between Swing and Be-Bop. While Tatum may not have thought rhythmically in the same manner as Bird and Diz, Bud and Monk, his harmonic adventurousness took jazz away from its rag, blues, and pop roots into a brave new world of chromaticism and structural upheavals, opening up all manner of artistic possibilities for musicians to absorb and follow – if they could.
This film could serve as a model for other biographical music documentaries. It digs into the details of Tatum’s life and career, it includes a wealth of intelligent commentary by a number of his musical associates and influencees (not the empty-headed ones, but the worthier ones, such as Hank Jones and Marian McPartland), it presents rare film clips of Tatum in action, and as a whole is highly compact and devoid of fluff. The film clips demonstrate that he was a surprisingly unemotional and non-visual player; perhaps the latter is related to his near-blindness?
There are no extras on this hour-long disc, but Tatum’s playing is a “special feature” in and of itself. Highly recommended, not only to listeners who have yet to discover Art Tatum, but to long-time fans as well.

Fredonia Jazz Ensemble CD Liner Notes

2009-03-11T13:29:00.000-07:00

This next item doesn't really fit the parameters of "GenEc DVD Review". For one thing, it's not about a DVD. Second, it's not a review, but the set of liner notes I wrote for the forthcoming (late April, 2009) CD by the Fredonia Jazz Ensemble. I happen to be one of the Faculty Advisors for the organization, so I can't claim total lack of self-interest here. But I feel safe in saying that if you like modern big band music, you'll enjoy this disc a lot. These notes have been reproduced here by permission:

Get ready to kick up a storm!
After far too long an absence from the recording scene (did I hear someone say 16
years?!), The Fredonia Jazz Ensemble has returned to the studio. The CD you’re holding in your hands is all the proof you’ll need that the FJE is still alive, and – yes, indeed! – still kickin’.
The Fredonia Jazz Ensemble has long been considered one of the crown jewels of the
SUNY Fredonia School of Music. Thus, it might surprise many people to learn that this award-winning, internationally-renowned big band exists as a totally separate entity from SUNY Fredonia’s Jazz Studies curriculum. The FJE is one of two bands that comprise the Fredonia Jazz Workshop, a completely student-run organization which receives its financial backing from the SUNY Fredonia Student Association. The members of the FJE are responsible not only for the musical sounds that come out of their instruments, but also for all artistic decisions, personnel matters, scheduling, business dealings, and all the many other details that are part and parcel of running a sizeable musical organization. Thus, the FJE is not only an expressive outlet for the artistic energies of its members, it serves a highly educational purpose as well.
But it’s the music that concerns us here. “Still Kickin’” is a rousing set of eight top-flight big band performances, with arrangements which not only open up to some fine soloing by the FJE regulars, but occasionally expand to include vocals, a string section on one piece, and guest performances by two of Western New York’s finest jazz veterans.
The opener, “Eternal Triangle”, is a Sonny Stitt hard-bopper, deftly arranged by FJE
trumpeter Matt Koerner. While you’re enjoying the solos by John Troy on tenor sax and pianist Jason Weisinger, pay attention also to Jeff Utter’s popping bass line and the relaxed drive of drummer of Michael Lamardo. Mary Palmer puts trumpet aside on “Caught A Touch of Your Love”, to offer an impressive vocal which just keeps building in intensity.
The two special guest artists make their first memorable appearances on “Time For Bruce and Phil”, written by Buffalo trombonist and special friend of the FJE, Phil Sims. As the title hints, this track is a showcase for the estimable talents of Sims and baritone sax master Bruce Johnstone. Johnstone, the Director of Curricular Jazz at SUNY Fredonia and one of two Faculty Advisors for the FJE, may be best known for his work with Maynard Ferguson and Woody Herman in the 1970’s, but his blazing solo shows he has lost none of his skill or fire through the years. Sims’ solo is also a special treat and demonstrates precisely why his standing on the Buffalo music scene is so high. Not only do the two guests shine, the whole band cooks like mad. Sims also contributes another original tune, “On The Way,” featuring the smooth alto sax stylings of Mike Casey, the warm guitar of Chris Sclafani, and a soothing backdrop of strings. “On the Way” is a moment of calm in between two flag-wavers, as Johnstone and Sims return to playfully joust on a 1970’s Ferguson classic, "Superbone Meets the Badman”, that will certainly set your toes to tapping and put a big, broad smile on your face.
The proceedings calm down again for “It’s Just Talk”, one of Bob Curnow’s highly
regarded arrangements of a Pat Metheny tune, utilizing Mary Porter’s voice as part of the instrumental ensemble. The set’s only pop standard, “Like Someone in Love”, is a 1940’s classic originally associated with Frank Sinatra, though it has subsequently been recorded by a bevy of major jazz artists, including John Coltrane, Eric Dolphy, Art Blakey, and Dave Brubeck. Matt Koerner’s sprightly arrangement adds a dash of “New York, New York” for a humorous light touch. The album goes back to the 1967 Buddy Rich band for its suitably swinging closer, “Big Swing Face”, giving soloists Weisinger, Troy, and trumpeter Ian Taylor one last chance to strut their stuff.
In all, this new CD will leave listeners hoping the Fredonia Jazz Ensemble will be
heading back to the recording studio a whole lot sooner next time out. You’re certain to get a “kick” out of “Still Kickin’”.

- Tom Bingham
SUNY Fredonia alum (class of 1970)
Adjunct Prof, SUNY Fredonia School of Music
Host, “General Eclectic”, WCVF-FM
Proud to be the “other” Faculty Advisor for the FJE

Louie Setzer & the Appalachian Mountain Boys – Homegrown Music Concert

2008-12-31T13:06:00.000-08:00

Now this, my friends, is bluegrass, straight to the bone and hard to the core.
This 55-minute concert comes from a t.v. series out of Pennsylvania (WVIA) called “Homegrown Music”. The music is homegrown as well, featuring one of the many too-little-heard local/regional bluegrass bands that play this music not because they plan to get rich off of it, but because they want to. No – make that “because they have to”.
The group’s leader, guitarist Louie Setzer, sings with a mixture of tough-as-nails Appalachian nasality and growling intensity, adorned with short falsetto yelps. His is not a “pretty” voice, and his style is far from slick, but his singing is strong, honest, and REAL.
Setzer’s chief role model is Jimmy Martin, so it’s no surprise that he’s at his best on 50’s-flavored honky-tonk songs, such as Martin’s “Please Play the Jukebox” and Merle Haggard’s “I’ll Break out Again Tonight”. There are also well-chosen and well-played songs from the Carter Family, Flatt and Scruggs, and Stanley Brothers songbooks. But it should not shock anyone when, in a brief interview segment, Setzer reveals that he began as a country singer, and only later shifted to bluegrass.
All four of the Appalachian Mountain Boys know their way around their instruments, and are equally adept at backing Setzer’s vocals and taking solid solo breaks. I find myself particularly attracted to Danny Stewart’s sparkling mandolin breaks. But fill-in David Cavage (who fits in so well, I was convinced he was a regular band member) is mighty impressive as well. Hear his bluesy licks on “I Bowed My Head and Cried Again”, for example. Fiddler Jim Daniels quietly goes about his business, so that you might not really notice him at first. But listen more closely – the man has taste. Try “Dear old Pal”, for instance. Bass player Ron Penska keeps things moving with his strong bass lines.
The energy flags a bit on the two songs following the interview segment. However, the band pulls back together for “Help Me Make it Through the Night’, which is very effectively taken at an uncharacteristically brisk pace. Things stay on track for the rest of the concert. Seven of the fifteen songs on the DVD also appear on the band’s “On the Air” CD, but the visuals – straightforward as they are - add an extra dimension. Fans will want both discs.
You can order this DVD from http://cdbaby.com/cd/louiesetzer2 for less than the price of many CD’s. If you’re into bluegrass, you’ll want this.

Bob Dylan/Cat Stevens

2008-11-30T14:09:00.000-08:00

Bob Dylan 1978-1989: Both Ends of the Rainbow

Cat Stevens – A Classic Concert: Tea For The Tillerman Live

Something needs to be admitted right off. Bob Dylan was one of my heroes in the early 60’s, and even from the middle to late 60’s. I began to become disaffected around the time of “Nashville Skyline,” but I still supported each new release as it came out. Until his so-called “Jesus Period”, that is. He lost me at that time, and has only fairly recently won me back.

The reasons he lost me in the late 1970’s should be fairly obvious to anyone after watching the first sections of this film, a British television documentary released in the US by MVD. It wasn’t simply that his subject matter had changed. After all, his subject matter had changed before, and not always to what may have fashionable or to what people may have expected of him. The bigger problem was that the preachy style of his Christian songwriting seemed too simplistic, assuming that the listener would readily accept his conversion without bothering to ask for the explanations we felt would have been forthcoming a decade earlier. What’s more, the arrangements were simply too busy and in too hackneyed a gospel vein to suit his vocal style. This, of course, says as much about his listeners (myself included) as it does about Dylan.

But the overall theme of this DVD is not Bob Dylan’s relationship with Christianity (I’ve heard tell that there’s another, newer release that does indeed concentrate on this topic, though I have not seen it). Rather, it looks at the many changes in Dylan’s messages and music during a turbulent decade in his career, tracing his descent into critical purgatory and his long road back into critical favor. The visual emphasis is on the talking heads of critics rather than performance, but when the critics are authoritative and have interesting things to say, as is the case here, that’s hardly a bad thing . There are short video clips of Dylan performances of this period interspersed among the interview segments. Less compelling visually is a telephone interview with Dylan - the screen shows a tape recorder rolling.

The DVD includes a discussion of Dylan’s role in “We Are The World”, including a classic clip of Stevie Wonder trying to teach a seemingly clueless Dylan his part. Even more embarrassing is Dylan’s appearance at Live Aid. It’s as if Dylan craved desperately to fit in at these big events, to be seen and heard alongside the few other stars of his stature as well as lesser, then-current ones, but he simply doesn’t blend well. Dylan scored far more points at Farm Aid, a considerably more comfortable situation for him, performing “Maggie’s Farm” with Tom Petty.

There is a revealing interview here regarding how Dylan doesn’t pay attention to what other people think he should be doing. Guitarist Ira Ingber specifically discusses Dylan’s lack of focus while working on “Knocked Out Loaded.” It would seem from his comments that the album was more an attempt by Dylan to find his way into new forms of expression, rather than an attempt at slick commercialism or an illustration of eroding talents. It’s as if Dylan wanted to do something new and significant, that he didn’t wish to capitulate to demands that he merely repeat past triumphs. He was searching, but unfortunately, he wasn’t finding. To use Ingber’s phrase, the album had “no coherent plan”, which suggests the conclusion that the album was one long illustration of why performers should never think out loud, then release the results.

The disc further traces Dylan’s artistic and commercial decline, writing fewer songs by himself, falling back on collaborations, seeming not to really care anymore. The exception would be the Traveling Wilburys project, which took him away from the search for 1980’s relevance back to the sounds of an earlier era. The Wilburys revitalized Dylan the artist, as well as renewing interest in his career among a younger audience. Thus, Dylan began to find his way back at last.

With 1989’s “Oh Mercy”, Dylan at last found his way back to listenability, thanks in considerable measure to producer Daniel Lanois, who was determined not to make another Dylan dud. And even though Dylan would fall into decline again in the 1990’s, the fact that he had proven that he could work his way back meant that many people were at least ready to give each subsequent release a chance to impress them.

As a whole, the DVD is objective, consistently interesting, and thoughtfully presented. Extras include more interviews plus text bios of contributors. Unfortunately, the latter are printed so tiny that they were impossible to read on my 21-inch screen, even with new glasses. Time to upgrade!

Among the new breed of singer-songwriters who brought a gentler, more melodic approach to popular songwriting in the immediate post-Dylan era was Cat Stevens. I have to confess I didn’t “get” Cat Stevens at the time. I found his lyrics to be either too precious (“Moonshadow”) or too cryptic (“Longer Boats”) for my taste. Thus I wasn’t too sure whether I really wanted to watch “A Classic Concert: Tea For the Tillerman Live”, a brief (under a half hour) television special recorded in L. A. in 1971.

But darn, this is an enjoyable disc. The atmosphere is relaxed, the performance (in which Stevens is accompanied only by a second guitarist and a bass player – Alun Davies and Larry Steele, respectively) is no-nonsense/no-frills, the melodies hold up very well – I just can’t find any faults worthy of criticism in the performance. I still have reservations about Stevens as lyricist, but the half-hour goes by very smoothly.

There is one extra, an animated short called “Teaser and the Firecat”, which essentially has historical value only. It’s very much a psychedelic-era cartoon, strong on whimsy, short on insight.

But the concert is what counts here. Fans in particular will enjoy this, but even a non-fan such as myself had a marvelous time watching it.

Stepping: The Documentary

2008-08-26T13:48:00.000-07:00

Stepping: The Documentary (CTG Films, distributed by MVD)

Stepping is an African-American phenomenon with African roots. Unlike so many other manifestations of black American culture, however, it remains little known to mainstream America at large.

Stepping may be best thought of as a form of exhibition dancing using the human body as a percussion instrument. There is much audible hard-stomping on the floor, slapping of the thighs and other resonating parts of the body, and occasional vocals/chanting/rapping, though the latter is not an essential component. It is done as a tightly choreographed group presentation, as much visual as musical, and can be a very entertaining spectacle indeed.

This film, by first-time feature directors Marshall Blackwell and Norman Whiteburn is a bit weak on background, but high in entertainment value. For example, the DVD’s liner notes rightly point out the very strong connection between stepping and South African gumboot dancing. But in the film itself, the interviewees – who are presented as stepping experts, not as anthropologists or folklorists - seem to imply that the phenomenon had its origins in those areas of Africa that were most affected by the slave trade. This is rather tenuous, since the slaves came primarily from much further up the Atlantic Coast than the South African gumboot dancers. However, the film could have very easily drawn a connection between stepping and the “hambone”, a related African-American body percussion tradition, the origins of which are more clearly West African. Stepping is also related to the march-dance styles of black college marching bands, as well as historically black American dances such as tap, buck and wing, et. al. It would have nice had these connections been explored in detail in the film.

On the other hand, there is a great deal of valuable historical background here on African-American Greek-letter fraternities and sororities, the organizations which fostered and developed the styles of stepping prominent today. Stepping is still often regarded as a college Greek-organization activity. As the film shows, however, it has spread to high schools and many elementary schools as well. Most of the stepping groups shown in the film consist of University students, and each unit has its own particular approach to the dance and the attendant showmanship.

Since most of the film is devoted to a wide range of highly entertaining and distinctive performances, with the intent of bringing attention to this growing phenomenon, one can overlook the lack of research into the roots of stepping and just enjoy the show. I know I did!

Lydia Lunch - Video Hysterie: 1978-2006

2008-08-11T11:24:00.000-07:00

The world first encountered Lydia Lunch in 1978 as the “star” member of the anarchic New York “No-Wave” band, Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. If anyone would have suggested that she would still be around thirty years later, I would have laughed in their face.

But here we are in 2008, and MVD has recently issued a career-spanning compilation of videos, film clips, and live performances covering not only TJ&J live at Max’s Kansas City in 1978 as well as her almost-as-fabled band, 8 Eyed Spy, from 1980, but numerous solo performances and collaborations from the 1990’s and 2000’s as well. The impression that the viewer is left with is that of an uncompromising, ever-evolving artist who may or may not have begun as a poseur, but who has developed into a artist of strength, purpose, and imagination.

One thing that needs to be acknowledged right off the bat is that many of these selections are primarily of documentary significance. The Teenage Jesus material in particular is shoddily filmed with poor sound. But when historians wish to get a real feel for what the late 70’s New York scene was like, these clips will be found to capture the story much more effectively than controlled studio recordings ever could. Who on that scene could afford major productions, anyway? In any case, there is Lydia shouting anti-melodically in her highest register over an explosive warped-power-trio backdrop of anti-music, looking as deadpan as can be imagined given the urgency of the performance. I find it fascinating, though I’m sure not everyone will agree.

With 8 Eyed Spy, Lydia put down her guitar and worked with a band resembling real musicians, blending elements of punk, pseudo-funk, pseudo-blues, and avant-garde jazz. The band is loose, yet energetic, and the music holds up surprisingly well. Lydia’s vocals had dropped down an octave or so to a talk-shout closer emotionally to Iggy Pop than to commercial pop. Visually, her blank, yet belligerent attitude is priceless. Bad-girl wannabes can still learn a lot from watching her performances here. By the way, there’s a rare cover song here, John Fogarty’s “Run Through the Jungle,” though you’d hardly recognize if it weren’t for the guitar riff.

Cut to 1991, by which time I personally had lost track of Lydia Lunch’s activities. Thus, everything from this point on is a surprise to me. We find a matured and mellowed Lydia whose declamations over a musical backdrop are closer to poetry-with-music than to rap. But unlike too many recorded poetry/music collaborations, one has the feeling that Lydia Lunch and her accompanists had a real feeling for each other’s artistic expressions and worked together to present a unified, fully compatible whole. Her two 1991 performances with the neo-surf, neo-psychedelic Shotgun Wedding are very strong, and she displays a swaying sensuality much more captivating than her former lack of expression. Alas, her words are largely obscured. It should be noted that she actually sings a bluesy melody here.

Fortunately, most of the recited poetry on the rest of the DVD is far better recorded and certainly understandable. Actually, the term “recitation” may be inappropriate, as the body language and emotionalism she puts into these pieces place them into the category of “performance art”, however ill defined that term may be. A particularly interesting collaboration comes on the bluesy “Doggin’”, with the German post-punk instrumental band Die Haut. Others range in style from blues/r&b to cabaret-jazz to more definably avant-garde jazz, with frequent collaborators Terry Edwards, Joseph Budenholzer, and Ian White, among others. “Violence Is the Sport of God,” the most recent piece, from 2006, suggests that she is now as much a theatrical performer as she is poet or musical artist. Lydia Lunch, punk shouter, is still in there, but the transformation to ever more unique forms of expression is ongoing.

“Bonus Materials” include pictures of her many CD/DVD/book covers (I had no idea she has been so prolific through the years), a slideshow with well-chosen photos from various segments of her career, and a 14-minute film collage called “Flashpoints”, which incorporates quotes from reviews, more photos, and film clips. (This film duplicates a few images from the other bonus features, but in a different context.)

As with all Lydia Lunch material, this DVD is not for everyone. However, if I’ve made it sound at all interesting to you, it most likely will be.

Relaunching Under a New Name

2008-08-05T16:34:00.001-07:00

It has come to my attention that someone else had previously come up with a name very much like "Eclectic DVD Review". Therefore, I am re-launching this DVD review blog under a new name, "GenEc DVD Review". (The name derives from my "General Eclectic" radio program. I have transferred the two reviews previously published in "Eclectic" into this new blog. Sorry for any inconvenience.

Yellowjackets - In Concert

2008-08-05T16:32:00.000-07:00

I have to confess I pretty much ignored the Yellowjackets during the first couple dozen years of their existence. Despite the presence of original guitarist Robben Ford, the band struck me as somewhere between the bland pop-jazz of Spyro Gyra and the formulaic, barely-improvised stylings of so-called “smooth jazz”.

But then about, maybe, four years ago, the Yellowjackets made an appearance at the 1891 Fredonia House. I went to the concert for three reasons. For one thing, my wife loves smooth jazz (and has raised my tolerance of the genre, though not my admiration), and wherever she wants to go, I gladly follow. Two, we serve as semi-regular volunteer ushers at the Opera House, so we get in free. But perhaps most significantly, three – despite the continuing excellence of SUNY Fredonia’s much-honored jazz program (under the direction of former Maynard Ferguson and Woody Herman baritone saxist Bruce Johnstone), big-name jazz artists rarely make concert appearances in our fair town. (I didn’t say never, just rarely.)

To my surprise, I was quickly won over. The Yellowjackets turned out to be substantially more powerful than the blatantly commercial lightweights I was expecting, first-rate musicians, both technically and creatively. This was music of substance, of imagination, of emotional impact, of originality. I’m glad to report that this newly issued DVD on the German Inakustik label (distributed in the US by MVD), recorded for the German television concert series “Ohne Filter” in 1994, captures all the energy and excitement that won me over during the band’s Fredonia appearance.

There are 7 selections on this disc, everyone a highlight in its way. Right from the very beginning, with “Man Facing North” (primarily a feature for the deft six-string bass of Jimmy Haslip), a strong interplay of rhythms, arrangement, lyricism, and virtuosity by all four members of the band is constantly in evidence. The Yellowjackets work their way through fusion, light funk, melodic music of an accessible nature, and straight-ahead jazz. Saxman Bob Mintzer is particularly solid and fully in-command on the straight-ahead pieces, such as the hard-driving “One Music.” Keyboardist Russell Ferrante is especially impressive on “Dewey (For Miles”), in which he conjures up a Davis-like muted-trumpet solo on synthesizer. Will Kennedy (who is no longer with the group) may not be the flashiest drummer you’ll ever hear, but he is tasteful, always appropriate, and rhythmically inventive.

There are a few “Features” on the disc as well, none of them particularly indispensable. There’s a text biography of the band, which is interesting enough so far as it goes. I might point out that this bio defines “fusion music” as “the fusion of jazz improvisation and smooth pop melodies.” Those who remember the golden era of “Bitches Brew” and “The Inner Mounting Flame” will recall that the original application of the word referred to the fusion of jazz and rock. But realistically, I suppose this re-definition represents the directions “fusion” took after the initial excitement of the early days wore off. There is also an alphabetical listing of artists who have appeared on “Ohne Filter,” which whets one’s appetite for further DVD’s from the series. A six-minute interview with the program’s producer will be of primary interest to those who’ve seen it on a regular basis. I can only wish we had something like it in the U.S. The fourth featurette, “Sound Tuning” begins as a brief introduction to sound mixing before becoming essentially an ad for Inakustik cables.

But the concert is what really counts, and it’s well worth the price of admission. . Due to the time limitations of television, the concert is only 57 minutes long, and I found myself wanting much, much more. Check this one out.

Chris Barber - As We Like It

2008-08-05T16:29:00.000-07:00

It was early 1959. Rock’n’roll was about to suffer the worst year of its history, with many of its prime movers set to leave the stage, whether through death or and number of unfortunate career moves. Pop music for adults seemed to be as strong as ever, while pop music for teenagers was poised to take over from rockabilly as the musical style favored by the increasingly more powerful record and radio industries.

In the midst of the chaos, a gentle reminder of an earlier time emerged, in the form of a plaintively melodic clarinet instrumental called “Petite Fleur,” by Britain’s Chris Barber’s Jazz Band. Its composer, New Orleans clarinetist and soprano sax master Sidney Bechet had recorded the tune only seven years earlier, during his extended stay in France. But the tune seemed to reflect back to an earlier era, a gentler time when music was more often played in parlors than dance halls. Barber’s recording focused wholly on the clarinet of Monty Sunshine, over a low-key backdrop of guitar, bass, and (my memory tells me) lightly brushed drums. (Ironically, on Chris Barber’s biggest hit, his own trombone was nowhere to be heard.) There was little in the way of jazz improvisation, but it was instead smoothly tuneful. Even so, it was certainly far meatier than most of what passes for “smooth jazz” in recent years.

That one hit, which reached #5 on the U.S. charts, was pretty much it for Chris Barber on the American scene. The truth is, he had already made a less publicized, but perhaps in the long run more significant contribution to the American scene a few years earlier. It was on Barber’s first 10-inch LP that his banjo player, Lonnie Donegan, recorded the Leadbelly classic, “Rock Island Line” (with Chris Barber on bass, released under the name “The Lonnie Donegan Skiffle Group”). That record became such an enormous hit that it sparked a “skiffle music” craze in England, thus influencing many of the young British lads who would go on to become leading lights during the British Invasion of the mid-60’s. What’s more, it provided many American baby boomers (myself included) who were just a bit too young to be affected by the Weavers our first entrée into the Folk Revival of the late 1950’s.

Barber himself would go on to become one of the great triumvirate of “trad jazz” bandleaders (the British name for Dixieland jazz) of the early 60’s (along with Kenny Ball and Mr. Acker Bilk). Barber also played a highly significant role in bringing many American blues legends to Britain for the first time in the late 1950’s, thus paving the way for the British blues boom of the 60’s, which once again impacted heavily on rock history. (A number of radio broadcasts from these tours, including previously unissued performances by Muddy Waters, Champion Jack Dupree, Sonny Terry and Brownie McGhee, among others, have been issued recently under the series title The Blues Legacy: Lost and Found.)

Thus, while American audiences have pretty much lost touch with Chris Barber over the past half-century (although he has toured here several times), his influence continues to this day. I’m happy to report that Chris Barber himself continues to this day as well, as proven by a highly entertaining new DVD, “As We Like It”, recorded in 2007 and credited to “The Big Chris Barber Band”. He was 77 years old when this was filmed, but that hardly means he’s ready to retire and rest on past laurels. Indeed, this “Big Chris Barber Band” extends the Barber trad sound not only in terms of the instrumentation, but also in terms of versatility. There’s trad/Dixieland, there’s a considerable dose of blues with a touch or two of rock, a few arrangements of spirituals, and there’s a lot of Duke Ellington-inspired swing here as well.

Note that this isn’t labeled as the Chris Barber “Big Band” – at eleven pieces, with two trumpets, two trombones, three reeds, and four rhythm – it’s smaller than most “big bands”, yet larger than a typical Dixieland band. This increases the band’s flexibility, as well as increasing the voicing possibilities, particularly since Barber doesn’t feel the need to use all the horns all the time. Even so, the full band plays more often than not. “Petite Fleur” is here (though Monty Sunshine is not), all decked out in expanded instrumentation that to my ears works extremely well. Fans of the original 45 will be glad to know that an updated version of the record’s memorable B-side, “Wild Cat Blues”, is here as well. One of the highlights of Barber’s early career, “The Martinique” (which was recorded at the same 1954 session as “Rock Island Line”), is given a brand-spankin’ new arrangement – indeed, it has never sounded better. Two early Ellington classics, “Black and Tan Fantasy” and “The Mooche” are played as medley, resulting in another high point of the disc.

Barber’s singing is a bit variable, but there’s not so much of it as to lessen the fun of the proceedings overall. Somewhat more bothersome to American viewers may be Barber’s patter between songs. The song introductions would seem to be quite informative. However, he speaks so quickly with such a strong British accent that one wishes there were a Subtitle option available. As a bonus, veteran British rocker Andy Fairweather-Low, who first rose to fame with the Amen Corner, and who has been closely associated with Eric Clapton in recent years, makes a couple guest appearances, fitting right in as if he had been a trad man all along.

This live recording has a few performance flaws, but nothing so drastic that it can’t be overlooked given the high spirits of the music. Somewhat more problematical is the fact that the volume level is unsteady – as soon as you’ve turned it down, you want to turn it back up again. Once again, the high spirits and the top-notch arrangements will negate this flaw for all but the pickiest viewers.

Despite a few quibbles, this ranks very high on my personal entertainment meter. “As We Like It”? You bet!