Category: Music

I made it to the Eastside Sing last night, where we did a quick two-hour unrehearsed run-through of the Verdi Requiem. Because my old chorus, the Cascadian Chorale, was one of the co-sponsoring groups, I also finally got my copy of the group’s CD, Premiere. Both proved to be memorable musical experiences.

The last time I sang the Verdi was with the Cathedral Choral Society in Washington, DC, in the mid-to-late 90s. There we had full orchestra, a 150-voice choir, and severely strained vocal cords—at least on my part. I was still learning how to use my voice, and four seasons singing in the highly resonant acoustic of Washington National Cathedral had grown my volume but not my control—meaning that by the time a concert rolled around I had usually taken my voice right to the edge. Last night, by contrast, felt wonderfully relaxed and I was nailing high B-flats without any problems. The difference, I think, is due to continued practice with the Cheeselords, groups in graduate school, the UPC choir, and especially with the Cascadian Chorale, whose music staff, Phillip Tschopp and Christina Siemens, taught me as much vocal technique in a single season as I had learned in the previous eight years of singing after college.

In addition to the vocal sensations, the singing last night was just fun. It was good to see some Cascadian folks again, including some soloists we had worked with before, and to sing next to Norman and Matthew.

I listened to the CD last night and this morning, and was greatly impressed. I think the long hours of rehearsal and recording really paid off. Technically the vocal work is hard to critique—maybe a little hard to hear some consonants, though that may be due to mic placement and the resonant acoustics in which we recorded. Aesthetically the sound is outstanding. I’m looking forward to picking up some additional copies to share with my family.

The Sonic Youth show in Seattle on Wednesday night was ear-splitting goodness. The show, which was a last-minute booking after Lollapalooza collapsed, was at the Showbox, across the street from Pike Place Market. The venue is small (“intimate,” I suppose, is the polite word) and lively; it’s the first place I’ve been in a long time that there was honest-to-God moshing, and where people actually remembered how to mosh in a non-destructive way—even lending a hand to take care of a geezer like me who didn’t move quickly enough out of the way.

(This brings me to parenthetical aside #1 about this show. I was smart enough to wear earplugs on the floor, just like Tom, but the complaints coming from my lower back (not new) and my knees (very new) after the show suggest that I may be getting a little old to be going to these clubs. Bear that in mind as you read the rest of the review.)

The set was very different from the 2002 Bumbershoot show. That show was heavy on hits and long, and though they engaged with the crowd they seemed a little above the fray. The Wednesday show drew almost exclusively from their last two albums—Sonic Nurse was played almost in its entirety, and Murray Street was represented by “The Empty Page” and “Rain on Tin”—though there were a couple of crowdpleasers scattered throughout the rest of the set, including a blistering run through “White Cross.” The new material came across largely as it did on the record, alternately intricate (almost REM-jangly in some places) and squalling.

One thing I noticed this go-round is that Jim O’Rourke seems much more a part of the band now. He’s still very much a quiet contributor behind the scenes, but his work on Wednesday was rock solid where two years ago he seemed a little lost in the mix. And his solid foundation, particularly on bass, left room for Kim Gordon to really step up to the mic.

In fact, it was clearly Kim’s show, from the opening vocals on “I Love You Golden Blue” through “Pattern Recognition” (which was really intense) and “Dude Ranch Nurse,” all the way through into “Kool Thing.” Nice start on the latter song, too, with the band hitting the drum and guitar chord that is held prior to starting the massive double guitar chromatic hook, all except for Thurston, who started doing some kind of two-handed fret-tapping free noise that built and built over the chord until Kim yelled something to get his attention and damped the strings with her foot in a move that was almost a spinning side kick. Then the massive double guitar chromatic hook. Since the Yoof now have a whole song on the new album to goof on Mariah Carey (the aforementioned “Mariah Carey and the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream”), the Mariah rant that filled out the middle section in 2002 was replaced with a succinct and pointed W rant.

All in all the show was brilliant—a lean, mean, athletic romp through some really solid new material. The only thing that had the potential to spoil the night, which started with a burger at the Pike Place Market, was almost not being able to retrieve my car from the garage in which I had parked it. I had missed the very small sign that indicated they closed at 1:00. Fortunately, the guy in the booth cut me some slack and let me in at 1:40 to retrieve my car. It would have been a long walk home.

At Art of the Mix and at iTunes, another good driving mix. It might be a while before I get these discs sent out. While I fix my distribution channels (and work on the cover and label art), ping me if you want a copy or if you want to be taken off my mailing list.

Judging from his remarks in the New York Times today, Prince could go on the road as a Cluetrain evangelist. “I didn’t [pursue the joint concert/CD giveaway strategy] to usurp power from Billboard or SoundScan… But the real power is in community, in actually connecting with people.” Whoop it up.

The ultimate iTunes arbitrage experience is here. Consider Miles Davis’s Pangaea. Two 40 minute long tracks. Price on Amazon: $16.99.

Price on iTunes: $0.99 per track. That’s right, a buck-98 for the whole shootin’ match.

I think that the unexpected cancellation of the Lollapalooza tour could be the best thing to happen to music this summer. Proof? I get to see Sonic Youth at a small club in Seattle instead of at a big festival. And while their show at Bumbershoot 2002 was fantastic, the small club show should be a lot less…safe, certainly if their show on the Thousand Leaves tour that I saw at the 9:30 with Craig is any indication.

At ArtOfTheMix.com, my newest mix: Back It Up Like a U-Haul Truck. The title comes from the Jay-Z song “Change Clothes,” which somewhat improbably (if you take a look at the other stuff I listen to) is on the mix. What can I say? The Dangermouse remix got to me. Copies of the mix will be on the way soon to the usual suspects. (Also available in limited form on iTunes.)

Reposted after it mysteriously disappeared yesterday afternoon

On Thursday afternoon I was getting ready to write an obituary for Robert Quine, guitar hero who apparently killed himself last weekend, when I heard on KEXP that Ray Charles had passed away. Both will be missed. Ray Charles was starting to be in danger of being a living Mt Rushmore, so much a part of America through his constant TV appearances and patriotic performances (even well into his 70s) that people like me thought of him as a monument rather than a living musician. Hopefully this will be an occasion, past the mourning, to evaluate and appreciate his truly astounding artistry as well as his life.

Most of what I see on Google News is the AP release (which is identifiable for listing one of his best known songs as “What’dI Say” (note the lack of space—proving that even the best papers don’t copyedit wire feed)). Here’s the BBC obituary.

Regarding Robert Quine: as much as Ray Charles was a towering monument on the landscape, I think Quine was more influential for me personally through his boostership of the Velvet Underground and his truly seminal work with Lou Reed on The Blue Mask and with Tom Waits on Rain Dogs.

If it were just the new Cowboy Junkies, it would be a happy day; likewise a new Sonic Youth. But a new Cowboy Junkies, Sonic Youth, AND PJ Harvey???? Bliss.

Maybe detailed reviews will come later. In the meantime, let me note that “Mariah Carey and the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream” would make a great band name.

—And one other note. Of the two friends and bloggers that I met this weekend who gave me mix CDs, one made a mix containing the original version of Snoop Dogg’s “Gin and Juice” and the other one had a 6:20 bluegrass hoedown cover of “Gin and Juice.” Who gave me the original? If you’re guessing Greg, you’re wrong. That would be my beloved one-quarter-preacher sister, keeping her mind on her money and her money on her mind…

I was thinking the other day about Elliott Smith again, how I really miss his music, and it got me to thinking. Sometime last year before he apparently killed himself, Elliott put a new 7 inch (45, for those not hip to the terminology) out on Suicide Squeeze, a label here in Seattle. I heard the song on KEXP one night and thought, Man, that sounds bleak. Anyway, in all the subsequent tragedy I forgot about the song.

Until last week, when it occurred to me to look for it. The album he was working on hasn’t been released, and the single isn’t available digitally. But it is available on vinyl still. So I ordered a copy of “Pretty (Ugly Before)” b/w “A Distorted Reality Is Now a Necessity to Be Free” from Suicide Squeeze. It arrived today and I put it on. It’s like a valentine from Elliott. Some songs, like “No Name No. 5,” that he recorded years before the incident sound a lot more suicidal and dangerous to my ears today than this last of his recordings. This one sounds energetic, but it sounds angry. And somehow that makes me feel better. Elliott didn’t go quietly. He went fighting.

You just have to hear this: Rodeohead. Mashing up, by my count so far, about ten songs from Pablo Honey all the way to Hail to the Thief. Complete with whistling sibilants, yodels, and killer fiddle lines.

Reuters: Elvin Jones of the John Coltrane Quartet Dies. While not a surprise (he played his last gig a week or two ago with an oxygen tank on stage), this is still sad news. For years Elvin was one of the most vital forces in jazz, and his powerfully propulsive drum style was a foundation for the John Coltrane Quartet’s sound—and for his own solo career.

I saw Elvin play in a small theater at the University of Virginia on February 19, 1993, at Virginia’s late lamented JazzFest (alas, this is the only web evidence I can find for the shows). I didn’t try to write down my impressions at the time, but I remember thinking that in a festival that was dedicated to Coltrane and swimming in jazz giants, he easily stole the show (and stole the set from Ravi Coltrane, the late saxophone giant’s son, who was playing with Elvin’s band). His physical presence—big, muscular, imposing—was secondary only to his musical presence. Without my notes, the best I can do is point to this description of Elvin’s playing, which squares pretty well with my memory of the set in Old Cabell Hall.

Fare thee well, Elvin.

Weird to see so much music on 78s become newly available all at once. It appears that Boing Boing’s staff has been on a tear finding these sites. Witness :

• 78s2CDs.com, which appears to specialize in Gilbert and Sullivan and Alma Gluck (via Boing Boing)
• Vintage78.com, a site that will make custom tapes of the 78s of your choice (and also sells pre-sequenced CD samplers) (via Boing Boing)
• The 78 section of Open Source Music collection at Archive.org, which includes lots of old Appalachian, blues, and gospel 78 records that have been digitized
• And for bonus points an interview with Terry Zwigoff about “old time music” and collecting 78s. The site that hosts the interview, Old Hat Records, sells CD reissues, including the interesting sounding “Music from the Lost Provinces: Old Time String Bands from Ashe County, North Carolina and Vicinity” (also via Boing Boing)

Today’s listening comes courtesy of Cellophane Square, the excellent used music store in Seattle’s U-District about which I’ve written before. I grabbed a handful of really nice vinyl there Thursday, including today’s listening, the Beatles’ Help!. Judging from this guide, the record I got was not an original pressing—it probably dates from after 1976—but it’s still a kick to listen to the music the way it was meant to be heard.

Other finds included the Talking Heads’ More Songs About Buildings and Food, Get Happy!! by Elvis Costello and the Attractions, and David Byrne’s Music from the Knee Plays, a soundtrack of sorts to a Robert Anton Wilson play that I don’t believe has ever been reissued on CD. In fact, as luck would have it, I have never heard any of these albums (except excerpted on greatest hits), so I’m in for some good listening if I ever get some time near my record player.

New theme mix, catalog number JHNCD009, “I Hardly Ever Sing Beer Drinking Songs.” Inspired by too many Friday nights listening to Shake the Shack on KEXP. It actually covers a lot of ground, from British dancehall comedy to Swedish drinking songs to country and western to the inevitable Tom Waits. Not sure how well it coheres but I’ve been sitting on it too long already.

CD copies are on the way to all subscribers. Others can purchase a subset of the songs on the iTunes Music Store.