Category: Music

On a completely different, um, note, the generation line of melodramatic “singers” with large heads has been crossed: Henry Rollins will be guesting on William Shatner’s next album.

And, in sadder news, the LA coroner’s office ruled that Elliott Smith’s death is still an open case; the coroner said they couldn’t rule out that someone else might have stabbed him.

Remember how I said my family has weird taste in holiday music? English Village Carols is one of those recordings that proves the point: a field recording made in village pubs across England, with amateur choristers of varying age and ability (and, apparently, hearing), singing carols together as they’ve done for almost two centuries.

If you have low tolerance for enthusiastic but occasionally imprecise harmonies, eccentric vibratos, lots of dramatic rubratos, cheesy little pub organs, and carols that have been forgotten everywhere else but in these small village gatherings, you may want to steer away. But for me this recording is a breath of fresh air amidst the general seasonal miasma of “White Christmas” (as performed by Martina McBride, Rosemary Clooney, Elvis, Roomful of Blues, the Oak Ridge Boys, Clay Walker, Percy Faith, the Statler Brothers, Lee Ann Womack, the Chipmunks, and about 180 others, according to the iTunes Music Store). Recommended for the general rough beauty of the singing, and the clinking of pint glasses that accompanies most of the carols.

Upon hearing the phrase Irish (or worse, Celtic) Christmas music, most people have one of two reactions: either they grab their families and their Claddagh rings and their shamrocks and their green scarves and they settle in for a long listen, or they head for the hills. The reason is simple: there are a lot of really bad Irish recordings out there, and the misty headed sentimentalism that often parades under the name of “Celtic” makes a lot of it worse.

Fortunately, the Chieftains mostly avoid this trap on their holiday album The Bells of Dublin. They are, after all, revered for having brought a sense of traditionalism and musicianship back to Irish music. Unfortunately in recent years they have fallen prey to the unfortunate “guest star syndrome,” familiar to many classical music listeners, where normally serious musicians bring in pop artists on recordings, often with disastrous results.

What makes this album so special is that for the most part the guest stars don’t get in the way of some really amazing playing. “Past Three o’Clock” features a nice jig around the traditional carol, and “St. Stephen’s Day Murders” is unabashedly fun as guest vocalist and co-writer Elvis Costello(!) sings about doing away with family members who’ve overstayed their welcome:

For that is the time to eat, drink, and be merry,
Til the beer is all spilled and the whiskey has flowed.
And the whole family tree you neglected to bury,
Are feeding their faces until they explode.

There’ll be laughter and tears over Tia Marias,
Mixed up with that drink made from girders.
’Cause it’s all we’ve got left as they draw their last breath,
Ah, it’s nice for the kids, as you finally get rid of them,
In the St Stephen’s Day Murders.

But the highlights of the disc are the two medleys that pull together traditional songs and airs into flowing sequences. The Carol Medley features some fine singing over a sprightly arrangement of “O the Holly She Bears a Berry,” “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen,” and “The Boar’s Head.” And the absolute high point is the medley on “The Wren! The Wren!,” which pulls together a set of traditional Irish dances, reels, and hornpipes in a grand bit of craic. One can almost imagine the close walls of Matt Molloy’s pub getting just a little snugger as the incomparable Northumbrian pipes of guest Kathryn Tickell play over the bodhrain.

I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t mention the following nightmarish stretches of the disc: the French carols warbled by the McGarrigle sisters; Marianne Faithfull’s version of “I Saw Three Ships”; the weak “Rebel Jesus” with Jackson Browne; and the absolutely execrable version of “O Holy Night” by Rickie Lee Jones. But as Elvis Costello points out, “it’s nice for the kids as you finally get rid of them.”

On Tuesday I wrote about Dave Brubeck’s Christmas recording recalling holiday traditions of people gathered round the piano in the parlor, playing and singing. As I did so, I reflected that this probably isn’t a tradition for everyone. Our family is atypical in a bunch of ways, notably in having musical talent on both sides.

Then again, we’re also atypical in our taste in holiday music. For about twenty-five years, one of our favorite holiday recordings has been an odd record of carols by the Boston Camerata. The repertoire includes Middle English carols (yes, Chaucerian English, and Latin as well) that span the 12th through 15th centuries, and a rich selection of 18th and 19th century carols from England and America. The performances were recorded during a crossroads in early music, when popular performance practice was still introducing primitive instrumental accompaniment (typically viols and rudimentary wind instruments) to choral music that originally would have been performed unaccompanied. But, as on the pivotal Music of the Gothic Era recording, the voices take center stage. Even without understanding Middle English (and the diction here is impeccable), the listener is carried away by the sheer energy and enthusiasm of the singing. And the early American tunes have the same propulsiveness; the shape-note carol “Sherburne” can ring your room and rattle your rafters if you’re not careful.

There are only a handful of carols that will be familiar to most listeners on this disc, including “Sunny Bank” (“I saw three ships”) and “The Coventry Carol,” but the performances are so compelling that you may want to learn Middle English or the Sacred Harp singing style to pick up some new favorites. My friends in the Suspicious Cheese Lords and I did just that with “Nowel, Owt of Your Slepe,” “Nova, nova: Aue fitt ex Eva,” and “Sherburne,” all of which we performed several times during my tenure with the group. A holiday essential that reaches back to earlier times and brings them vibrantly to life. That ever was thralle, now ys he fre; That ever was smalle, now grete is she; Now shall God deme bothe the and me Unto his blysse yf we do wel. Nowell!

(Incidentally, the Camerata’s web site includes a discography page with lo-fi MP3 previews of some of the tracks from this album.)

Continuing my review of my personal favorite holiday recordings, today’s disc is A Dave Brubeck Christmas. This latter-day collection of solo piano numbers has a parlor ambience to it, as though Dave were sitting at your grandmother’s old upright piano. Dave covers a set of mostly standards with a few of his own compositions in fine Brubeck style.

Now, when I say “Brubeck style,” don’t expect the thundering blocked chords and odd time signatures of Time Out. The approach here is much less fiery. At his liveliest on this recording, on “‘Homecoming” Jingle Bells” and “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” Dave calls to mind great stride pianists like Fats Waller, with a little Count Basie thrown in for good measure. Most of the other numbers are approached with melodic inventiveness but contemplative tempos. The end result is a hushed anticipation that recalls Brubeck Plays Brubeck, his groundbreaking 1956 solo album recorded at home late at night as he tried to keep from waking his infant children. The comparison is apt: Brubeck says he was trying to recapture some of his favorite holiday memories of playing with his family. The end result is more “drowse by the fire” than “jingle bell rock,” but having a little help to get out of the holiday bustle and into a meditative mood during the season never hurts. Recommended.

One note about the sound: this is a Telarc recording, and like all Telarc discs is recorded with a much quieter playback volume than typical rock or jazz albums. As a result the disc doesn’t really play well in a changer, shuffled among other recordings, unless you have your hand on the volume knob at all times. Better to go ahead and turn up the sound and listen to the album straight through.

Today’s holiday recording is a new one, a serendipitous iTunes Music Store find. Who knew that James Brown had recorded not one, but two holiday albums of original Christmas songs? Fortunately, someone saw fit to reissue the stuff on one disc, the Christmas Collection.

So does the world really need another Christmas album full of holiday chestnuts, even from the Hardest Working Man in Show Business? Fortunately James Brown was too smart to waste an opportunity to write great soul music. Most of the tunes are originals, with such super funk material as “Go Power at Christmas Time,” a Motown-flavored soul number; “Santa Claus Go Straight to the Ghetto,” in which James Brown simultaneously hits the holiday theme while pulling at the social conscience; and the slow jams “Merry Christmas Baby” and “Merry Christmas, I Love You.” Other standouts include “Santa Claus is Definitely Here to Stay,” the fabulous six and a half minute slow burn of “Let’s Make Christmas Mean Something This Year,” and the gorgeous cover of “The Christmas Song.” If the strings get a little strong at times, it just sounds like they got swept up by the excitement along with everyone else. A new favorite antidote to the six thousandth playing of “White Christmas.”

Incidentally, for an example of Christmas music by soul artists that just didn’t work out, check out this twofer collection of Christmas albums by Jackie Wilson and Al Green. Oh boy, what a stanker. Wilson badly wants to be singing opera but succeeds only in singing cheese. And the Reverend Green is in good voice, but is smothered by his early-80s backing band, or rather backing tracks. Yes, it sounds like someone went into Circuit City and grabbed every cheap keyboard and drum machine they could find. Skip it.

I almost forgot: my second annual EMP performance went great. I sang tons of backup, including backing up one of the group managers on “My Girl” (he did it with Motown style—actually having been a performing musician at one time; he and his group even opened for the Righteous Brothers once); also backup on a few newgrass/country songs and a classic rock set including “Tumbling Dice” and “The Weight.” “Little Wing” was solid, though there was a little confusion about the song structure at the beginning leading to a 96 bar intro instead of a 64 bar one. But my vocals were actually OK, and I think I finally exorcised some of the Sting influence, taking it a little bit more in my own style. It was a great evening but too short.

The best part was probably coming home to find, even after four hours, that our dogs had kept each other company and weren’t freaked out by our absence. The joys of puppy parenthood…

I’m a sentimental fool about Christmas music. Every year I drag out an assortment of discs for the holidays, and each year I rediscover that they span from the sublime to the ridiculous. This year I wanted to put my notes down about the best so that I don’t (and you don’t) make the same mistakes next year.

Today’s disc is Duluth, MN slowcore band Low’s unlikely Christmas EP. You may remember one of the songs, their version of “Little Drummer Boy,” from a Gap Christmas commercial a few years back. But don’t let the commercial association fool you. This is an absolute classic Christmas album of the finest order. From the direct-to-flexi-sounding lo-fi upbeat—nay, downright jangly—original song “Just Like Christmas” that opens the year, to the faithful if slow covers of “Blue Christmas” and “Silent Night,” the disc covers all the expected bases for a holiday album. But the covers subscribe to Low’s uniquely intense, spare vision, and the songs are transformed.

Nowhere is this more evident than in the cover of “Little Drummer Boy.” Here the “rum-pa-pum-pums” are slowed (each verse takes about a minute and a half) and laid over an organ drone, which in turn sounds like it’s laid over about 40db of tape hiss. At that speed, the words (conveyed by the sweet harmonies of Mimi Parker and Alan Sparhawk) stop being trite and start being deeply meaningful.

Add to this the unique originals “If You Were Born Today,” “One Special Gift,” “Long Way Around the Sea,” and “Taking Down the Tree,” which is the only paean to after-holiday-cleanup that I’m aware of, and you have a short but essential holiday classic.

In preparing for this year’s holiday party at the EMP’s Liquid Lounge, we tried to get “Nobody’s Fault” ready but it didn’t quite happen. However, we did find a tune that worked better: Jimi Hendrix’s “Little Wing.” It’s a gorgeous song, with lyrics that, while trippy, don’t get in the way of the beauty of the melody.

I learned the song from Sting’s version on his …Nothing Like the Sun album. His approach to the melody is more sympathetic with my vocal chords, so I’ll end up singing that version while George Bullock and my general manager, Tim Sinclair, do the axework. It should be fun.

I also get to sing backup on some Stones, Springsteen, and other tunes. If I have any vocal cords left by the end of the evening it’ll be a miracle.

All this is by partial apology for the light blogging this week. This has been one of two things keeping me busy. The other? You’ll have to wait another couple of days to find that one out.

Last year at about this time I had my rock and roll debut at the EMP’s Liquid Lounge. I’m returning with some of the same musicians this year for additional holiday party musical jam goodness. I get to go a little further afield this year, doing backing vocals on a bunch of rockabilly, Motown, and country/bluegrass tunes. And then some lead vocals, this year on a cover of Led Zeppelin’s version of “Nobody’s Fault But Mine.”

“Nobody’s Fault” is a really old song that I am still coming to terms with. The earliest recording I’m aware of is the Blind Willie Johnson version from 1927, which is a straightforward gospel lyric (“I have a Bible I can read/If I don’t read then my soul be lost/Nobody’s fault but mine) given a growling, urgent delivery with a slashing slide guitar accompaniment. When Page and Plant turned their attention to the song in the mid-seventies, the instrumentals were turned up to 11, and Page wrote new lyrics that describe a battle with&8212;what? Addiction, possibly, or the life of excess he was leading in general. Add to that the controversy in the traditional blues world about Zep’s refusal to credit Johnson for the song (on Presence, it’s credited to Page and Plant, and Plant has said that the song was “public domain because he’s been dead so long”), and there are about a million ways you could go in performing this song.

So there are going to be some challenges, but I think it should be tremendous. I’m working with two fantastic guitarists with George Bullock and Don Chappell, and if I can just get some rehearsal time so I don’t shred my vocal chords going for the high A on every chorus I’ll be all set.

Funny article in the Washington Post yesterday about the Foo Fighters’ remake of the infamous “Darling Nikki” (from Prince’s Purple Rain). I think this was the moment when we all knew Prince had Arrived: on the schoolbus, on the way to middle school, a chorus of white suburban kids gleefully singing along, “I met her in the hotel lobby…”
(The rest of the lyrics are in the Blogcritics article through which I discovered the Washington Post story.)

Our friend Shel is getting married around Thanksgiving. I’ve written a bit about Shel before; suffice it to say that the “happily ever after” day for the woman who introduced me to my wife is a pretty big deal. So we’ll be driving down to Portland the weekend after Turkey Day for the party, music in hand.

Music? Yeah, Shel asked me to roll a mix for the reception and party. Being the overachiever that I am, I obliged with three cds worth of a monster mix that takes the party from first dance and family friendly stuff all the way through 80s memories deep into funk grooves before ending in trance and “Classic Girl.” The track listings for the three discs, entitled You’re the First, The Last, My Everything, are up at Art of the Mix, so check them out.

I was all set to do a rant about how I was so stupid as to sign up for a one-year contract with eMusic, so I couldn’t cancel immediately now that they’re in their new business model. But I found the coolest Halloween song ever there today, and since I’m still paying for the service I downloaded it there rather than paying $0.99 at the iTunes Store.

Anyway, the track: Philly Joe Jones’ Sextet: “Blues for Dracula”… with Lenny Bruce voicing the legendary count as some sort of beat vampire in the first half of the track. Dig.

Update: Looks like the track isn’t in the US iTunes store any more, but it’s still at eMusic.

Rolling Stone says that Beck, Beth Orton, Grandaddy, and Conor Oberst from Bright Eyes are confirmed for a memorial concert for Elliott Smith on November 3rd in LA (assuming the city is still standing at that point).

Update: Beck and his band posted remembrances of Elliott on his official site.