We Love Our Audience

It's Sunday and I'm working. Today is usually my day off but I took off on Friday to go see Bauhaus, and they put me on the schedule today.

Playing right now: I think it's the blues satellite radio station.

I was talked in to going to the PG Pavilion by the wife because she really wanted to see Bauhaus. They were opening for Nine Inch Nails, who I don't care for either. But she offered to pay for the ticket if I would drive out to that vast wasteland of authoritarian money grubbing (no lawn chairs, no umbrellas, you can bring in your own water but we have to pour it in a cup at the security gate and you can only bring in one water, buy our overpriced lame-ass food, but enjoy the show!).

But all told it wasn't so bad. We were on the lawn and while the jumbotron wasn't working at least we could see the stage from a distance. Peaches played first and she exceeded all our expectations too. The first song, which we heard from the foodcourt area, sounded like a Kim Gordon shriekfest, but by the time we got our, um, seats, she sounded pretty good. She had a live band with her, included a dame drummer who had double-bass drums (badass!).

For a true, detailed account of Bauhaus' set, it'd be better to check out Jennie or her pal Sheryl's blogs (don't know the urls at the moment). I don't know their material really really well, although I have heard a lot of it at home, when Jennie has put it on. But I know enough to say that they rocked. And Peter Murphy is quite the consumate professional. Shimmy in place, sashaying across the stage, standing on a riser and bending to the waist so that, from a distance, he looks like he's going to fly away and then he has you believing that he will. I was impressed.

To make sure a good night wasn't spoiled, we decided that, yes, we wanted to leave before Trent and the gang came on. So we did.

Oh by the way: no Bauhaus encore. No "Bela Lugosi's Dead." I was disappointed but I got over it.

I want to write about Henry Grimes but I feel like I should go get a coffee and get ready to start my shift. I'll write about Henry later. It's a long story -- a good one, though -- anyway.

PS It's not the blues station, it's the montage of blues, lame folky acoustic stuff and Cat Power.

Last week: Squier; worst band; jazz in Sq Hill

Playing right now: Booker Ervin - That's It!

I went to Jerry's Records yesterday and even though I had a boatload of albums that I want to listen to, and several that I need to review in the coming week or two, I had to buy this Booker album. He was a tenor sax player best known for his work with Charles Mingus on albums like Mingus Ah Um. And I'm pretty sure was connected with the "Texas tenor" style, because he was really soulful and had a beefy sound. But hearing him in the context of a quartet, w/o Mingus' dynamic personality, he sounds a bit like Coltrane, tone-wise. Which is no slight to either of those guys. This is a good album. Plus it has Pittsburgh native Horace Parlan on the 88s, along with his steady trio mates Al Harewood (drums) and George Tucker (bass).

The other album I bought at Jerry's was Billy Squier's Don't Say No. Now, I hear you laughing out there. "Billy Squier, what the hell? 'The Stroke' is a goofy kinda dumb song." Well yeah, "The Stroke" might not be "Misty Mountain Hop" but it's fun and it's bride price gets upped when it's in the company of "My Kinda Lover," "In the Dark," and "Lonely is the Night." FOUR CLASSIC ROCK SONGS ON ONE ALBUM??!?! C'mon, brothers and sisters, when was the last time you saw someone do that? You think Blink 182 or Green Day is capable of that? I'll answer that for you. "No." Plus some of the deep cuts on Don't Say No are pretty nice pieces of boogie rock too. In short, Billy did everything Foreigner tried to do, and did it a lot better. He's the template, man.

Plus, I've heard it said that Mr. Squier fancies the men instead of the ladies, which boosts his cred with me even a little more. I mean, Rob Halford --- sure, I guess you saw that coming, unless you miss the clues like me. I wore the same studded wristband in the early '80s, but I thought it was punk rock, not heavy metal and I thought Halford was your typical sexist dude who could found in the front row at the strip club with Vince Neil.

BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT. wrong answer.

But I'm getting offtrack. So Billy Squier is gay too. More power to him. Where is he these days? I want to add him to my list of people whose touring band I would like to join. Billy, if you're reading this, I'm a bass player of 20 + years. I'll play "The Stroke." Do I have to sing on key?

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Speaking of bands of dubious merit......
When is someone going to come out and tell the truth about the band Morningwood -- that they're the worst band around at this moment. Surely I can't be the only one to feel this way. But since nobody else has come out and said it, I will:

Dear Morningwood,

You guys are horrible and I feel really embarassed for your singer. Sure she has a great set of pipes, but all that gesticulating during songs makes me think that you find your gestures clever and witty when in fact you just look, um.....really embarassing.

I first stumbled across them when they opened for Gang of Four last year, which was ironic because Morningwood seemed like the type of band that somehow would have wound up on a bill with Go4 in the early '80s. They really sounded like the kind of band that existed in the 80s that was somewhere between Pat Benatar and "quirky" rock. During the set, the singer - whose name I would know if I was more responsible, but that would require another run downstairs, which I don't feel like making at the moment - added to her performance by putting on a headband and doing aerobics during the guitar solo; did the move-the-hand-down-in-front-of-the-face-change-expression-from-happy-to-sad thing that we all learnend when we were 14. Ever seen an insecure person try to win people over with jokes that aren't funny? Know how that makes you feel? Yeah, that's how I felt.

The reason all this is coming back to me now is that Morningwood was on David Letterman last week and I had to watch to make sure that they were the band I saw open for Gang of Four and that they were indeed as awful as I remembered.

The answers were yes and yes.

The band's whole shtick seems very early '80s, which is the time when I was in high school. Said singer reminds me of someone who might have been in the drama club. A normal gal; not nubile, maybe a tad chunky -- and let me say now that, despite what I feel about this band, it's nice to see a female singer that ISN'T nubile and pre-fab -- who knows how to sing. And decides to give this rock music thing a show, acting mock-sexy, but funny at the same time.

That's the only way you can explain the moment during last week's performance when she turned around, leaned backwards and gave her body a good shake. Was she making fun of go-go dancers? Did she even think it through that hard? Well, it looked bad.

In conclusion: Morningwood -- worst band at the moment.

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I dug out some of my Charlie Parker Verve albums last week. There was an original copy of a Parker Verve album up for auction and I was going back and forth on it. Twice now, the bidding opened at $3 and no one bid. It looks to be in fairly decent shape, outside of a few album cover wear marks. But I have all the tunes. The album is called Swedish Schnapps and features mostly quintet stuff with both Miles Davis and Red Rodney. All of it is one volume 2 of the Verve two-fer that I have. Of course, it'd be cool to have the original, but after I play it a few times, would I ever go back to it? Hell, I almost forget I had Mulligan Meets Monk until yesterday. (I played it over breakfast today. See previous listings commentary.)

One of you reading this (is there anybody out there?) should bid on it. It's a great record. Take the temptation away from me.

But in listening to those Verve albums I realized that I don't like a lot of the Bird With Strings sessions. The first one, with "Summertime" and "Just Friends," that included Mitch Miller in the orchestra, are pretty good, but the 1950 sessions just don't seem to gel that much between the arrangements and his playing. The early ones have a sense of adventure to them at least, especially "Summertime," which is downright haunting. The rest are kind of nice.

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Last Friday, I went to Gullifty's in Squirrel Hill to see my buddy Don Aliquo play. Gullifty's just started having jazz in the past few months and I've been meaning to get in touch with Don again. We met when I decided to do a story on him for InPittsburgh in 2000 and we've kept in touch. Although it's been close to 2 years since I last saw him. Sure enough, on Friday morning I heard a plug for this gig on WDUQ, so I decided to check it out.

He sounded really good, and the group he had included the drummer that I like best behind him. John Schmidt. This guy really knows how to light a fire under a band. Trumpeter Sean Jones sat in for a few songs. He really seemed to have a Dizzy style going during some of his solos, but the way he constructed things was pretty innovative and also it complemented and Don, and maybe even gave him a kick behind to get him to play even better.

In closing I have to mention that I grew up in Squirrel Hill and even though there were occasional shows at the American Legion Hall on Forbes back when I lived with my folks, Squirrel Hill was never really a live music 'hood. So it was pretty mind-boggling when walking out of Gullifty's at 1:30 that I wasn't on the South Side or the Strip or even a block from my house in Polish Hill. I was on Murray AVenue, the area where residential tranquility and commerce come to commingle. And it's only a mile from my folks' place.

Matthew Shipp - One

MATTHEW SHIPP
One
(Thirsty Ear)

Pianist Matthew Shipp might not be a household word, but his accomplishments have done a good deal to keep the spirit of jazz music alive and moving. In addition to playing in the David S. Ware Quartet for over 15 years, grounding the tenor saxophonist’s gales of sound, he has overseen the Thirsty Ear label’s Blue Series, which includes an array of forward-thinking jazz albums. Shipp himself has appeared on several of those releases including some that, a few years ago, were dubbed “jazztronica.” Here, Shipp skillfully proved that free improvisation could meld with electronic beats to create something that was groovy and cerebral.

For One, Shipp stepped into the studio alone and created 12 pieces that flow together like a 40-minute suite, thanks to careful editing. Much of the album has touchstones in jazz music, but in his careful hands, it sounds highly unique, and doesn’t adhere to a standard definition of jazz. “Gamma Ray,” has a funky feel of Bud Powell as its base, for instance, but once he states the theme, Shipp’s right hand discards any set time signature and flows freely over the melodic line. The blues creeps into the emotional tone of his Shipp’s solos, but when he plays a straight 12-bar blues, it sounds anything but standard. “The Encounter” carefully hides the structure behind some dark riffs that feature a lot of rumbling from the low end of the keyboard, which still sounds equally enthralling.

At times tranquil, other times spiritual (one track paraphrases “Angels We Have Heard on High”), with a little thunder thrown in for seasoning, One provides a new look at the solo piano and reveals another side of an extremely versatile performer.

(The review was originally written for a Pittsburgh publication, but it never ran, hence the posting several months after the album's release. Don't let that discourage any curiousity in checking it out.)

Gutbucket - Sludge Test

GUTBUCKET
Sludge Test (Cantaloupe)

While the rest of the word contemplates whether Gutbucket is a punk rock band that plays jazz or a jazz band that plays punk rock, it’s more important to consider that the band straddles both genres on Sludge Test without making the end result sound like a novelty. Sure, Naked City set that musical ball rolling in the late ‘80s, but all those 20-second blasts of composed noise sounded the same after awhile. (And you’d think John Zorn would’ve gotten tired of resorting to that same shrill, above-the-normal-register squeal.)

Gutbucket — who, like the Zorn-led aggregation, also hails from New York — can blast a listener across the room with the progressive thrash of the album opener “Money Management For a Better Life,” but they’re equally as interested in more complex piece that takes a while to unfold. The best of the latter comes with “Throsp%,” a six-minute tone poem that starts with surf guitar and a slow two-chord groove and builds up through layers of melodies into a climax wherein Ken Thomson’s alto sax starts to boil. And the whole thing, which the band compares to Godspeed You! Black Emperor, still manages to sound pretty amidst the frenzy.

In between, the group combines heavy rock with quarter-tone sax melodies (the title track); a nasty array of bass guitar scrapes leads to a heavy riff that could have been lifted from Blacks Sabbath or Flag (“Underbidder”). The album ends with “Danse de la fureur, pour les sept trompettes,” a movement from a larger piece written by French composer Olivier Messiaen while imprisoned in a Nazi camp in 1941. An impressive undertaking — drummer Paul Chuffo wrote his own part while his bandmates transcribed their parts — it sounds a little too math rock-y and gets a little rigid when all four instruments move in parallel motion. It lacks the loose, swinging quality of their originals.

Throughout Sludge Test, the group isn’t afraid to utilize overdubs to widen the sound, which finds Ty Citerman creating several voices of guitar parts. Chuffo gets in on the act, adding a whole other kit to “Punkass Rumbledink” and giving it extra kick. Thomson’s gives his horn a brawny tone that carries a density equal to his bandmates. Bassist Eric Rockwin, who wrote half the album, often holds down the bottom end and adds melodic color the music simultaneously.

Thinking about Gerry Mulligan

Finally found a way to change the time. So from here on out, hopefully it won't look like I'm posting three hours before I actually do it......

Playing right now: Nothing (although over breakfast, I listened to Miles Davis' Collector's Items and Andrew Hill's Andrew).

I got my copy of the Gerry Mulligan Quartet album Reunion with Chet Baker in the mail yesterday. Now, maybe I shouldn't say anything because I only paid 99 cents for it in an auction, but it came in an oversized envelope that was slightly padded, but didn't protect the record from careless mail carriers who might've tried to bend it or simply tossed it around. (It didn't even have "fragile" stamped on it.) So it arrived warped. The seller gave me a vague description of it when I asked, because he didn't have any description posted with the listing. No wonder no one else bid on it. So it's worth 99 cents but I probably wouldn't've shelled out $5 in postage if I knew about the shoddy packaging job.

But it is a great album, which leads me to today's post; a post that will also include ruminations on Mulligan Meets Monk, which showed up about a week ago -- another auction win.

1957 seemed to be a pivotal year for both Gerry Mulligan and Thelonious Monk. Miles fired Coltrane, who kicked his drug habit and played with Monk for several months in a band that was by all accounts pretty colossal. By the end of the year, Trane was back with Miles for a band that has been well-documented. For Gerry, he did the album with Monk and recorded several sessions for Pacific Jazz including the aforementioned one that got him together with Chetty again.

At first, Mulligan Meets Monk sounds kind of ....well, languid. Easy going. But really, there is some good interaction between the two guys. Mulligan kind of plays over and around Monk's weird accompaniment style, but he really gets some good ideas going on "'Round Midnight" and "I Mean You." The recording could have been a little better. Two tracks have bass solos and you'd think Wilbur Ware was in the other room, they're so faint. And you can barely hear drummer Shadow Wilson on "Midnight" and "Sweet and Lovely." Of course maybe that speaks to Wilson's skill and keeping a soft tempo going. But I'd rather hear him a little more.

I was looking through the booklet with Mosaic's Gerry Mulligan Quartet Pacific Jazz set, and the notes, in passing, said that the energy at the 1957 reunion date didn't match the original stuff that Gerry and Chetty did. True, it's different, but the album is still a really good one. Dave Bailey, who'd play with Gerry for a while, is the drummer and none other than Henry Grimes plays bass. And Henry is really prominent, as if to say, "This isn't a mellow West Coast date. We have some drive here." He really steers the quartet.

All but one of the 8 cuts are written by other people. That's worth noting since a lot of the best quartet stuff of theirs was written by Gerry. They play songs like "Stardust" and "Surrey With a Fringe On Top" which have a lot of the counterpoint arrangements that were similar to the earlier quartet stuff. They also do Charlie Parker's "Ornithology" which is the first time that I can recall them doing a straight up and down bebop tune. It's funny, at the end, they don't go back and play the theme, something unusual for that era, I think.

That reminds me, I forgot to comment on the fact that the version of "Rhythm-a-ning" on Mulligan Meets Monk has a slightly different melody than the way it's normally played. They kind of scale it down. As far as I can tell that was the first time Monk recorded that song, at least for Riverside, so I wonder if it was still a work in progress at that point.

By the way, I have to mention that the copy of Mulligan Meets Monk arrived looking like the total opposite of Reunion. It's an original and while one of the seams is ripped a little, the cover is otherwise in beautiful shape and the record plays really well. There's something about those shiny album covers from the '50s that set my heart a-beatin'.

The Sugar Bears and what they mean to me....

Damn.....as this screen was popping up, there was a clock and I could've changed the time so that it wouldn't look like I'm posting three hours later than I actually am...(Does that make sense? Look at the time for this post and add three hours.0

But that's not why I'm writing....

I pulled out my Sugar Bears album and put it on a few minutes ago. As I mentioned previously I heard several of these songs on records that came with Sugar Crisp boxes back when I was, oh, five or six years old. Now these songs sound like bubblegum music (maybe the Monkees) if it was created by one of those we'll-put-your-lyrics-to-music scam jobs. With a little Up With People thrown in for good measure. I mean look at these lyrics:

I just want to be friends with you
We can do the kinds of things
that good friends do
(From the song "Kinda Friendly Things")

Yet the songwriters weren't no names. Baker Knight was a Nashville songwriter. Mitch Murray wrote "How Do You Do" which Gerry and the Pacemakers did after the Beatles rejected it in favor of "Please Please Me."

At the same time, when the insipid "Happiness Train" started, with the baritone sax implying a train whistle over a Keith Moon-y drum roll, it made me feel all warm inside. When "Feather Balloon" came on, sung by pre-rasp Kim Carnes.....it transported me. Nothing dirty. Even though the song PROBABLY has an underlying sexual meaning to it, she sounds more like the kindergarten teacher that you kind of have a crush on even though you don't know what a crush is.

I wish I could put mp3s of these songs up. But I only have it on vinyl.

I've been thinking of auctioning off my copy of the album. Thank God I bought another copy of this at a yard sale. WHY WOULD I EVER WANT TO GET OF IT? HOW COULD I LIVE?

Erin Boheme - What Love Is

ERIN BOHEME
What Love Is
Concord Jazz

With a stylish look that would fit in on American Idol, 19-year-old Erin Boheme bucks standard convention by avoiding the pop market in favor of an attempt at being a jazz singer. She has the voice for it and she had the good sense to not make her debut album the umpteenth interpretation of the Great American Songbook. In fact, six of the 11 tracks were co-written by Boheme. Yet, while What Love Is portrays a young singer with great potential, it also shows that she has yet to establish a strong identity.

Before the album was released, Boheme was already getting attention for “One Night With Frank.” In dreaming about Mr. Sinatra, the song references the titles of 19 of the Chairman’s signature hits, with the end results sounding corny and more like an attempt to gain approval from his audience. (It worked since she has his family’s blessing.) Her version of the Sammy Cahn-Gene DePaul standard “Teach Me Tonight” indicates Boheme could become a good torch singer, but Cole Porter’s subtly raunchy “Let’s Do It” falls short. She tries to sound low and husky, but it merely sounds affected and plays up her youth and inexperience. Someone should have told her that her pouty cue to saxophonist Tom Scott (“Would you play it, Tom?”) makes her sound like a bad lounge singer, a style she should avoid at all costs.

The inclusion of a Tracy Chapman cover and the original “Someone in Love” indicates Boheme might be hedging her bets, believing a crossover into the singer-songwriter camp might work if the jazz gig doesn’t pan out. But with stronger material, and perhaps fewer arrangements for strings, Boheme could become a jazz vocalist with her own style. In the meantime, she might want to take the advice of her song that ironically concludes the album: “Don’t Be Something You Ain’t.”

Andrew Hill - Time Lines

ANDREW HILL
Time Lines
(Blue Note)

Alfred Lion, the founder of Blue Note Records, regarded pianist Andrew Hill as a creative voice in the same league as Thelonious Monk. The label signed Hill in the early 1960s and released several of his albums throughout that decade, but his work wasn’t funky enough for hard bop fans, nor was it “out” enough to merit a connection with the free jazz movement, so Hill was overlooked by all but the faithful. Time has a way of changing things. Today, the pianist’s work is highly regarded and his entire Blue Note output, including several sessions that sat in the vaults for decades, are all available.

Time Lines marks Hill’s third association with the label (following a brief return during the label’s rejuvenation in the late ‘80s). It features his working quartet — Hill, Greg Tardy (reeds), John Hebert (bass), Eric McPherson (drums) — along with trumpeter Charles Tolliver, who hasn’t played with Hill for over 30 years. The eight tracks prove that Hill still plays with a signature approach to melody and rhythm. Much of the music avoids a set tempo, relying instead on McPherson’s pulse that moves parallel to Hebert’s bass textures. Tardy alternates between tenor saxophone, clarinet and bass clarinet, giving each piece a different color.

Two compositions appear twice, but each provides a different look at the music rather than merely serving as alternate takes. The quintet opens the album with “Malachi” while Hill closes the album playing it alone. Dedicated to the late bassist Malachi Favors, of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, it pays homage and it simultaneously sounds uplifting as it unfolds. Two versions of “Ry Round” have slightly different sections and time signatures to fuel the improvisation. The theme of the title track appears to be based on a simple line of just a few notes, but the musicians develop that simple framework into a rich set of solos. In a few songs, Tolliver lapses into a similar pattern, shooting a burst of staccato notes, but he fit into the mood of the piece rather than sounding repetitive.

Nearly 70 years old, and recently diagnosed with lung cancer, Hill never let external factors impact the way he played music and albums like Time Lines prove that his commitment was worth the effort.

(This review was submitted to a local paper but since it hasn't run in the nearly 2 months since submission, I thought it would be a good start to my online reviews. More will come soon. By the way, I'm listening to Hank Mobley's self-titled album now. Not to be confused with his album called Hank.

What I did this morning

This posting was written this morning. Half way through I got the flash notice that said "not able to find Blogspot" or something like that.

Anyway, read on....

Playing right now: Quasi - When the Going Gets Dark
Trying to decide if I should do one long entry, broken into several sections, or several separate entries. As you read this, of course the decision will have been made, but the thought process is still going on as I type.....
Last Thursday was Amoeba Knievel's show at Quiet Storm with Setting Sun. And Black Forest. We didn't know Black Forest was playing until we got there. Actually I checked my email right as I left work and there was a message from Gary from Setting Sun who mentioned them. I wasn't sure if they were a local band or a group that was touring with them. They were local. And in high school. And they were pretty good. Their originals sounded good, but they covered "The Wind Cries Mary" and "A Friend of the Devil" which sort of seemed to go against the rest of their material which was a little more in the indie rock/straight forward vein.
Setting Sun were awesome, just like last year when the Fearnots played with them. They're a trio from NY, actually from a borough just outside of Manhattan, but I forget where. Erica, their drummer, does this thing where she rocks back and forth while she's playing and sometimes she focusses her playing all on the snare drum, sometimes just playing with one hand and singing harmonies real loud. She's fun to watch. Gary is a great songwriter. And they had a new bass player this time out, Johnny.
But then....as we were setting up to play, we were informed that we had 20 minutes to play. It was only 10:00. Now nobody told us that coming in. And at the same time, no one asked. There was a breakdown in communications with the band, when at the end of the night Tommy said he thought I had booked the show. He booked it. I merely put in a good word for us.
But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself......
So we planned to cut the set short as we went. We tore into the songs with reckless but focussed abandon. Great props from Tommy A. But the soundman decided at the end that it'd be okay if he didn't give us the "one more song" or hand-across-the-throat-cutoff gestures, and just turn off the p.a. So that was it.
But Setting Sun liked us.
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Got up for the estate sales on Saturday. Found one in Sq. Hill that had a bunch of records w/out covers and a pile of covers, some with records. Among the batch I found an album by Pittsburgh pianist Walt Harper that I had to pick up in part because trombonist Nelson Harrison is on it. I met him when I used to go to the Crawford Grill and he's one of the coolest people you'd ever want to meet. Just a fountain of history and energy. The record's funny: there are versions of "Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In" and "Grazing in the Grass."
The big take at that sale was a handfull of 45s, which I usually don't look at. But this stack of promos looked as clean as the albums looked dirty.
2 copies of the Temptations' "Run Away Child Running Wild"
David Ruffin's "My Whole World Ended" (on red vinyl!!)
The Sundae Train, who looked curious and worth it and are on a label called B.T. Puppy Records. They kind of sound like the Cyrkle, but not as good
The Uniques' "You Don't MIss the Water." It was in a fancy sleeve with the label logo (Paula Records) on it. I looked them up and they include Joe Stampley, who became a country star.Beau Brummels: "Cherokee Girl"
Everly Brothers: "I'm On My Way Home Again"
Ray Bryant: "After Hours"/ Quizas Quizas Quizas". Bought this one mainly for the B-side, which Nat Cole did on his Cole Espanol album. Ray's version is a little funkier.
Eddie "Knock on Wood" Floyd: "I've Got to Have Your Love" on Stax. Let's just say "KNock on Wood" it ain't.

The other sales I went to weren't all that good. Or I went on the wrong day.

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I FINALLY finished reading Blowin' Hot and Cool a book I had to review for JazzTimes. I thought I'd never get it read. But that's because I didn't budget my time as well as I should have. Plus I have this problem where I kept nodding off while reading it. maybe it was author John Gennari's problem and not mine. Sorry, John.

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I have to weigh in on this: An original copy of Hank Mobley's Soul Station went for $1050 on eBay yesterday. That's right - no decimal point needed there. One grand + fifty. And the thing was, the bidding went to $1000 and stayed there for a day or two before the final escalation.

WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU PAY THAT MUCH FOR THE ALBUM? YOU KNOW WHAT I'D DO IF I HAD THAT KIND OF MONEY TO THROW AROUND?

I don’t either. Maybe get a new roof. Go on vacation for a week.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m into finding original Mobley albums as much as the next guy, but I could never justify paying $100 for a 47th Street Blue Note record let alone one-thousand freakin bucks. Even if that IS supposed to be his best album. I’d like to meet the winner. Maybe I should do an interview with him here.

Blogger has told me twice that my connection was lost as I was writing so I’m now typing in a word document with the hopes of pasting it in when I’m done.

Have to get ready to do an interview for JazzTimes. And the shower beckons. Then work.

We are not at the opera

Playing right now: Sunny Murray & Sabir Mateen - We Are Not At the Opera

Drum and sax (sometimes flute) duo. Sunny is the father of free jazz drumming. He played with Albert Ayler and Cecil Taylor with a style that I think he once described as "the sound of cracking glass." I saw him in 1998 in a duet with the alto sax man Sonny Simmons. The performance was notable not only for the music but for Sunny's 10 minute tirade that preceded the show. He hit the roof when he saw that the drum kit provided for him didn't fit the specs of the one requested in his contract. He ranted to the audience about all manner of stuff.

I'm going to start writing about music other than jazz soon. I was planning on posting some straight up and down CD reviews yesterday, my day off. But I just happened to look back at some old emails to see that the 5 disc reviews I owed JazzTimes were due that morning. So most of my day off was spent pounding out reviews. Not that it was bad. They were 200 words each, but I like to put some time into them and be able to walk away from them, come back and do some final tweaking before sending them off.

I managed to get a little bit of time out of the house, sitting in a coffee shop, reading and listening to music. (In case I haven't mentioned it yet, that's my ideal setting for a day off. It's also a past time I refer to as "being a beatnik.")

Went to Paul's yesterday and bought 4 used discs: the aforementioned Murray & Mateen disc, Sonic Youth's Sonic Nurse, Prince's 3121, and Quasi's When the Going Gets Dark.

The last disc was my breakfast listening. I would like to expound more on them too in the future. And maybe I will. Their last disc (Hot Shit) sounded pretty good at first, but the more I listened to it, the more bleak it sounded and the more it bummed me out. Sam Coomes has always been dour, but it started to sound forced, or that he was sustaining this mood out of obligation. In initial listen, the new one sounds pretty good. If it didn't make me cranky over breakfast, I have strong hopes.

Speaking of which, me head hurt a little this morning. I went to see the Hope-Harveys at Arsenal Lanes last night and the bartender was serving the drinks in big cups and making them strong to boot. I shouldn't've had that second one.

Came to the show right after Amoeba Knievel practice. That went well. We have a show on Thursday at the Quiet Storm. Anyone within the Pittsburgh city limits should come because we'll be playing with Setting Sun, a really great band from NY.

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Sunday was the big slew of yard sales in Highland Park. They were handing out maps at a couple intersections. I circled the ones that mentioned records and went to them first.

Overall, the houses I visited didn't have much good junk. I mean, maybe it just wasn't what I would ever want but nothing floated my boat. An older couple had a slew of albums that were all either disco or bad '80s rock. And the entire Charlie Rich catalog. I found a Grace Jones' Portfolio album (it has "La Vie En Rose"!) and asked the lady if $1 was good. She looked at me gravely ("grave" + "Ly", not "gravel"+ "Ly") and said "No -- $3." I put it back, which was smart because my next stop was at an apartment complex where there was another batch of disco going for 50 cents per album. Not only did I find Portfolio I also got another album by Grace, Fame. What I listened to was pretty awful, though. Glad I didn't pay $3 for it.

The night before, I was telling Jennie that I was thinking of selling my copy of the Sugar Bears album. They were a bubblegum band built around the mascot of Sugar Crisp cereal, Sugar Bear. People born after 1980 probably only know him as Golden Bear or something like that because all the cereals took "sugar" out of their name in the '80s. Anyhow, Kim Carnes (pre-rasp) did the female vocals on this album. And I found my copy at a church flea market in 6th grade after listening to the Sugar Bears records that came on the back of cereal boxes way back when. So I'm thinking of selling it, when lo and behold I found another copy in a musty box of albums at a house sale. Should I sell both? Keep one? Which one?

Not all estate sales yield gold.

Playing right now: Gerry Mulligan - Complete Pacific Jazz Quartet stuff

Quintessential beatnik music if you ask me. Man, a few hours ago I couldn't stay awake trying to listen to a record and now here I am online. Well the morning's treks to estate sales yielded a few interesting tales....and little else.

I think I'm now part of the early bird contingent. I'm not in with the early birds, but at each of the 3 estate sales I visited, I got there early and waited in line until they started. Now, okay, I may be one of those people, but I'm not one of those people. For instance, I wouldn't light up a cigarette (if I smoked) while waiting in line in your front yard. Maybe a decade or so ago, that was no big deal, but the guy behind me was doing that today and it just seemed a little inconsiderate. Where did he put the butt when he was done?! Probably on the ground. Nice fella. Hey pal, mind if I ditch this empty coffee cup in YOUR yard? Dude, it's biodegradeable. Chill, man.

Also, if I'm waiting in line and you come around the back to put your garbage cans out at the curb, I won't badger you about where to enter the house and get snotty when I don't like your answer.

OK, time to switch voices and tell you what happened. See, we're waiting in line, a few of us having come from another uneventful estate sale a few blocks away. This one where we're waiting was on a fancy part of Beechwood Blvd. This guy comes around the back with the cans like I said. And a guy in line asks if we're at the right door. In his defense (which I'll retract in a minute), one of the signs on the streets said the sale started at 8, and it was about 8:15 by this time so we could've been in the wrong place. But the paper listed 8:30, the correct time.

Owner says the auctioneer who's running the sale will be there soon. Guy in line: "So this is a pro sale?" Owner doesn't understand what he means. Guy gets impatient -- you know a professional sale. Owner kind of stumbles over his words but explains, yeah it's an auctioneer but it's not an auction.

Well I guess the guy in line didn't like the answers and mumbled something about the owner "not speaking English" so he left. It was ridiculous. You get here early, wait in line and when the guy doesn't speak clearly and doesn't get your lingo, it's suddenly not worth it. That just leaves more stuff for us.

Not that he missed anything. The auctioneer guy was a smarmy so-and-so who tried to hoodwink me with the records I picked up. I found a David Thomas (Pere Ubu) album, a single by Young Lust (old Pgh band) and a bunch of flexidiscs from Trouser Press magazine. I asked if he'd take $3.

He wanted $15.

AND he tried to convince me that since the Young Lust record had "special edition" written on it, that it was real valuable. "There's about $70 worth of stuff here." If that wasn't enough of an insult, he tried to convince me that Jerry's Records would sell that single alone for $15. "I know Jerry. He give me low prices and then mark it up at the store."

Yeah, you know Jerry. I can tell by your lack of knowledge here. But as a good auctioneer, he talked all over me and twisted his words around to try to reinforce his point. There was no use trying to get my point across. I left the records there.

Ironically the owner of the house played in local punk band years ago and was a nice guy. We talked a little when he saw me carting the records around. I hope he saw them laying on the table after I left, realized the auctioneer was alienating people and got annoyed at the him.

Today was the first day I came home empty handed from estate sales.

But it didn't matter because when I looked on the porch this morning before I left, the Andrew Hill album I won (Andrew!!) was sitting there. I listened to it over breakfast and was almost late for work.

More on Mascott

Playing right now: Nothing

Just finished doing some work stuff online.

Breakfast music today was Mascott's Dreamer's Book. I was thinking about the last entry where I talked about wanting to hear it and today - the first day back to work after 2 days off - seemed like the ideal day to do it. Sigh. What a dreamy album (no pun intended).

We have something to tell you
It came to us in a dream
The Words they're for free
All you have to do is see
L.O.V.E. (sung as "lah-la lah-la lah-la lah-la")

Oh Kendall Jane Meade, you can brighten up someone's morning. Although when "Time Waits" came on, it took me back a couple years to when I was still at Pulp and I almost got kind of sad thinking about how those days are gone. Back then, I would listen to the disc on headphones and that's when all the subtle arrangements started to stick out. All the guitars sounded gauzy and rich. There was a lot but nothing is over-arranged or produced. That was at a time when I felt like I rarely had the chance to get to know an album, because each week there was no junk to quickly digest and write about and chuck before the next thing came along. It was always such a struggle to keep up and feel like I was getting the right info across in my writing.

But anyhow, the time trip back to the Pulp days didn't let it drag me down.

This weekend two years ago, the Mofones played at Ladyfest in Columbus. The night before our show, Mascott played on an awesome bill with the Naysayer and Scrawl. I had only seen Mascott once and that was a few months earlier when they came to Pittsburgh with the Naysayer. It was a really fun night seeing all those groups. Scrawl hadn't played in a while and I hadn't seen them in years. It was so sweet that Marcy of Scrawl remembered my face and thought I was some long lost Columbus dude, while she actually remembered me from Pittsburgh and years gone by.

Me and Anna from the Naysayer had become acquaintences by that time. The Mofones played with them and she had slept at our house once. She dedicated the song "Kitten Time" to me because of Ivy's passing. See, she had taken a photo of Ivy when she stayed over.

Anyone reading this should go to Kendall's website right now to find out what she's up to. Either www.mascottmusic.com or to her label: www.redpandarecords.com Tell her I sent you.

While packaging up records today, I listened to Ole Coltrane. I think I wrote about that earlier, so no need to repeat.

Between going to work, showering, go through the car wash, I listened to Heernt, a band I'm reviewing for JazzTimes.

good night.

Great White Buffalo meets Mulligan

Playing right now: Nothing

I want to get a post up before work because I realized it's been almost a week since I've said anything.

I was thinking of making an entry titled "Last Night Kendall Meade Saved My Life" because at work lately, I've been really agitated about nothing in particular and I kept wanting to listen to Mascott's CD Dreamer's Book. Kendall is the leader of Mascott and a great songwriter. When I used to get stressed out at Pulp and I couldn't stop to have a goodie or soemthing, that album used to soothe my nerves. But I didn't get that album out. In fact I went the opposite way....


Last night I pulled up my copy of Ted Nugent's Double Live Gonzo. Kinda scary. There's only one record with it instead of two, but I got it for free a few years ago when WRCT was giving records away. Besides the only two songs I care about are on the record I have: "Great White Buffalo" and "Hibernation." The latter is the song I really wanted to hear. It's awful but it's.......intriguing.

See, Ted gives this big intro about how his guitar doesn't play any "mellow shit." And that it can shoot the balls off a rhino at 50 paces or something like that. Then he starts doing this long manipulated feedback thing that sounds EXACTLY like the beginning of "Anthrax" by Gang of Four, which would come out about a year later. Thing is, Andy Gill of G04 did something interesting. Ted just lets an A chord ring real loud. Then he hits a high note that sustains itself and it rings and rings and rings, then he bends the note, it rings and rings then the band kicks it....this is the one cool part because they come charging in with a gallop. But then the group plays a 2 chord jam that sounds like "Jessica" by the Allmans. I kind of like that song but it falls under the category of "mellow shit" that Nuge said his guitar can't play. Somebody's wrong here and it ain't me.

Why did I get that record out? Well, at work yesterday and the day before I had to slather some ribs in bbq sauce and for some reason, seeing all those bones and flesh lined up, it made me think of TEd. Had to let it out. I'm sorry, Kendall.

Oh yeah, since I was out at Gooski's just prior to listening to TEd, I kept nodding off.

This morning I listened to the Gerry Mulligan Paris Concert album over breakfast. The first time I spun it last week I thought maybe I could sell it and not miss it. it was good, but not astounding like the early stuff with Chetty. Now I'm not sure. It's pretty hot. I love what he could do with a small group and Bob Brookmeyer was a great second horn on this album.

In keeping with the Pacific Jazz bag, I pulled out a copy of The Chico Hamilton Trio album that's on that same imprint. I got this in a box of records that a dear friend gave to me a couple years ago. I still haven't listened to many of the albums in that stash (including another Chico LP called The Headhunters). This one has Chico with George Duvivier on bass and Howard Roberts and Jim Hall swapping guitar duties. There's something really magical about those early Chico albums. In much the same way that the Mulligan quartet worked (of which Chico was a member) the group used space really well. This album was no exception. It's spare, sonically, but the group fills the space with a lot of ideas.

It makes me want to pull out the Hamilton South Pacific album I bought last week and give it another chance. I wasn't too sold on it at first. I think it had to do with Buddy Collette being gone, with Paul Horn in his place. Something was missing by then. It's a little too sweet. I have another Hamilton band album with that lineup that doesn't float my boat, but I haven't been able to part with it.

Shower listening (i.e. what was on the CD player while I was in the shower): Avishai Cohen's new Continuo, which I'm reviewing for JazzTimes and therefore won't comment on here. Gotta save the ideas for the review.

PS I won a copy of Mulligan Meets Monk last night for $10.

This weekend's booty

Playing right now: The Cyrkle - Red Rubber Ball

How can you spot the jerk at an estate sale? He's the one who says, "Yeah, I stopped by last night to try to check things out, but nobody was here." That's because the estate sale is TODAY, you shmuck. What makes you think you're so freakin' privileged that you could get an early look? Sure these people are selling their life's items and you should get early dibs. Go to hell.

I showed up at this estate sale in Sharpsburg a few minutes before it was to start, at 7:30. And there was a line of about 15-20 people waiting to get in. The guy I mentioned above was behind me. That was key.....

When they let us it to this rather small house, I found the records in another room, in two looooong rows on the floor tucked in a corner where only one person could look at a time, unless 2 guys wanted to get up close and personal. There was a guy standing there behind the guy who was crouched down, and this guy was looking through a couple of those books of 45s. He was all done and about to get out of the way.....when a bunch of the records fell out of the book onto the floor. I mean, I was next in line to see the albums, trying to be patient, but I was wishing that dude was just get out of the way.

(By the way the ad for the sale said "1000s of records" but it was actually more like 100s, something that all these guys scoffed at.)

So I figured that these guys would get all the good good stuff but when I went through I started grabbing whatever interested me, thinking I'd check condition later (something that anyone should do at these things). And they passed over a lot of goodies.

So I found:
Gerry Mulligan - Paris Concert (orig on Pacific Jazz, a little beat but cover looks great; this was the treasure of the day)
Chico Hamilton Quintet - Plays South Pacific (also on Pacific Jazz)
Songs by Tom Lehrer, original 10"
Billy May's Naughty Operetta, another 10"
a Pittsburgh made 78 with Joe Negri playing on it (forget the leader's full name, he's a clarinet player whose first name is Bill)
The Cyrkle, which I'm listening to now. Some of it is sort of lame folk, but I love "Red Rubber Ball" and some the song playing right now is garagey
Jack the Ripper soundtrack by Pete Rugolo
Charlie Barnet - Dance Bash (wait, isn't it "Barnett"?)
Phineas Newborn Jr. - While My Lady Sleeps
Ahmad Jamal Quintet- Listen
The Outsiders - Time Won't Let me
Buddy Morrow - Night Train
Dancing at El Morroco - which we already have but it's such a cool record (swing plays 2 10-song medleys for dancing, like at the chic El Morroco club) that surely we can find someone else to give it to.

There were 78s in the basement and when I found them - a foot high stack with no covers - I decided to abandon the search. Felt like I have scored real well already. I even put a few albums back and skipped over some beautiful Tony Bennett albums with shiny covers.

I started talking to a frail older guy who was into jazz. We got to talking about specific labels and how there are some records that, if you find them at all, they're pretty beat up. Played a lot, and well loved. The Jazz Crusaders' albums on Pacific Jazz were a good example, I told him. He seemed interested and was a nice guy, although I felt like I didn't want him to see what all I got in case he might try to nick some from me.

Then he started to head up the basement steps ahead of me when he lost his footing. He broke his fall on the railing but also tipped over a shelf with some glassware on it. I helped him up with one of the guys from the estate sale and they got him a chair. I felt bad because I didn't know whether I should stay with him or let him be. The people there were fussing over him, so I decided he didn't need me trying to make small talk about jazz with him. Hopefully he'll be okay. I think he landed alright. And the lady who ran the sale took my number in case she needed a witness.

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Last night me and Jen fired up the victrola and played some of the 78s that have been in the living room for awhile. It's weird because there are some records it still won't play. I thought it was the machine -- and in a way it probably is --- but it seems really sensitive to weight of the records. It's kind of frustrating. But then again, it's an old machine so maybe I shouldn't expect a whole lot.

Besides part of the fun is hearing the record slow down and having to crank it up again.

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Oh yeah, I meant to bring this full circle. The jerk didn't get to the records until quite awhile after I did. And then he showed up at another (lame) estate sale about an hour later where I was. I was leaving as he was looking through the albums and I wanted to say, "HA! BEAT YOU AGAIN, YOU WEASEL!"

But then I wouldn't've been any better than him.

More than wildness & Magic carpets.....

Playing right now: Steppenwolf's For Ladies Only

Did I mention I'm a BIG Steppenwolf fan? It started when I was in grade school and I got a couple of their albums as gifts, from my folks (Steppenwolf 7 - the folks had a remarkably good track record w/blind buys considering they were not rock people), my brother Tom (At Your Birthday Party) and Tom's friend Jeff who had the unfortunate nickname Goo -- over a decade before the infamous Sonic Youth album, lest you wonder (he got me Steppenwolf Live, or Live Steppenwolf).
The only one of those that I have still have in the original copy is Birthday Party. I went through this phase in high school where I thought a lot of their songs were really stupid and pompous, which isn't totally unfounded. But then sometime, I don't know when, I started jonesing to hear them again. I bought a copy of 7, and someone gave us the live album.
Now For Ladies Only, now that's a piece of work. It's their concept album where they tried to come to terms with feminism, but it's almost as if they can't really drop the machismo. I mean there's a picture on the inside of a car shaped like a penis. It's an actual photo! And there was an insert of the band being chased by a long legged body that was just a set of teeth where the head would be. And they're cowering under it. Castration issues? And then they try to show their empathy in "Tenderness" by taking on the voice of a remorseful abuser. C'mon, brothers! At least that song wasn't written by anyone in the band (although the guy who wrote "Born To be Wild" is responsible for it.) But the title track is a really great song. So it was worth the $2 I paid at a flea market for it.

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I only wanted that to be an intro but now I think it'll be the majority of this post.

I listened to more of the Rahsaan Roland Kirk comp that I bought last week. Knowing most of that material already, I can say with some authority (so to speak) that it's not the best comp. It leans REALLY heavily on his album The Case of the 3-Sided Dream in Audio Color. I have that album and it has it's moments, but the thing is, half the songs aredifferent versions of the other half of the album and the compilation picks out the lesser, slicker versions of the songs. And out of context, they sound pretty cheesy. Lotta chunka-chink-chunka guitar, fonk-ay bass.....you get the idea.

Estate sale tomorrow.............."thousands of records" the ad says..........

With a martini in me....

Playing right now: Hank Mobley, Messages

It's the twofer on Prestige that collects Mobley's Messages and Hank Mobley's Second Message. Bought it a couple weeks ago at a record sale at the house of a guy who I used to see at Jerry's all the time. Real obsessive collector. But he's always been nice to me and besides he gave me and the wife a good on records that day.

Anyhow, the Twilight of the Gods continues. Ken Crawford died over the weekend. He was the co-host of "Rhythm Sweet and Hot" on WDUQ. I never met him (I met his co-host Mike Plaskett, who is a great guy), but I heard Ken on the air numerous times. A couple things amazed me about him and Mike. Both were EXTREMELY knowledgeable about the music they played, spewing all kinds of trivia that normally only music enthusiasts could fully appreciate. But it wasn't delivered in the high-and-mighty/you-would-never-know-this-if-I-didn't-tell-you presentation. They both dug the music so much, they thought other people should check it out. They wanted to share it with people.

The other thing about Ken in the context of Mike was that they never ever ever talked over each other. They had their rapport down pat, like two soloists trading fours. Maybe like Al Cohn and Zoot Sims - even though that's not the ear in which they focussed on their show. But I think DJs rarely have that kind of rapport anymore.

Ken, where ever you are, thanks for everything.

Oddly enough I was riding to the Fearnots show on Saturday and heard a snatch of the show on the radio and thought, Is that Ken? Is he back? See, he's been sick for about 2 years and in that time I think he was only back on the air once or twice. I almost pulled the car over one night to find a pay phone and call to say how glad I was to hear him back. But when they said calls were coming in from across the country, I thought that's even better than a call from me.

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Finished 2 reviews and sent them off to JazzTimes this morning. One is Joe McPhee/Matthew Shipp/Dominic Duval's In Finland. The other is Valery Ponomarev's Beyond the obvious.. I won't write anything about them here because my goal with this blog is to mention in passing reviews that'll appear in print and write at length about stuff that I won't get to review anywhere else.

I hope to write one more review for JT by the end of this week so I can get it in July issue. I think that's the one their working on now.

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Man, this Mobley album is killer. Prestige dates were usually thrown-together affairs where the guys were just blowing to get paid, but Hank was really inspired in a lot of these sides.

On the other hand, breakfast's soundtrack this morning was Lou Donaldson's Midnight Creeper, which I also picked up at the same yard sale. I got all geeked at the sale: Oooh! An original Blue Note, with a gatefold sleeve! Plus, Georgie Benson is on it (old local guys call him "Georgie"). But I think this is one for the sale pile. Sure it has Lonnie Smith on B-3, Blue Mitchell on trumpet, but it's just a funky vamp thing. I think 3 out of the 5 tracks are blueses. And what the hell was Blue Note thinking when they got those cheesy-ass DJs to write liner notes back then?! These guys were 60s descendants of Symphony Sid's smug delivery on the air, I'm sure, and their writing was just as obnoxious. I have an album by Big John Patton where the guy just drips faux-hipness. The guy who penned the notes on Lou's album even has the gall to talk extensively about the 3 songs on side one and then simply name drop the tracks on side two. Ok, pal, you only got to listen to side one before your deadline. Fine. But don't make it so obvious.

Anyhow, as the title implies, I had a martini tonight. Real smooth. I don't have them much anymore. Once in a while at home. But it's making me think that bed might be a good idea. I would like to rise again at 7 tomorrow. That's when I got up today and I got a lot done.

Fearnots report, estate sale report, listening to Rahsaan

Last night was the Fearnots show at Gooski's. It was our first show since late October, and since David moved to NY. We had 2 practices last weekend and things were pretty together. There were a few moments when tempos got a little slippery. Sometimes it was hard for me to hear Hille's guitar. But then again, all of those tempo and time signature shifts aren't the easiest thing to master and something that pretty much requires regular practices to keep it up to snuff. So considering we only had 3 practices since January, it went really well. In fact I almost felt like our set was too short. I didn't look at my watch at the beginning of the set and I wondered if we only played for half an hour. It was probably more, but it seemed to whiz by.

We're Wolves played after us and they were great. Clinton is a great guy. He interned at Pulp in the paper's last few months. I saw the band at Gooski's sometime last summer or fall and it was a gig from hell for them. Both guitarists broke strings and nobody would lend them guitars or give them new strings, so they only played about 4 songs. I thought those songs were great, but Clinton was really embarassed by the whole ordeal.

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Got up early and did some estate sale trips before work. Total booty:
Nancy Sinatra - How Does that Grab You, orig mono on Reprise
Johnny Cash at San Quentin - orig 360 Columbia, which still has the shrink wrap and K-Mart sticker. Did they have KMarts when this came out? And they sold records there too? Wow.
Flatt & Scruggs - Songs to Cherish
Hungary, Music of a Nation. This one was mainly for the wife, who has strong Hungarian roots. It has this great green cover with the words written in silver on it. "Csardas & Folksong favorites" is also on the front.
Rahsaan Roland Kirk - Does your House Have Lions
Hole - Celebrity Skin

Those last 2 were CDs I got for a dollar each at a yard sale. I thought for sure the Rahsaan one would be $2 since it's a double, but he only asked for one. If I sell it I can still turn a profit. And I always wanted to hear Celebrity Skin. I also picked up videos of Bound and Love Story, in a two-for-a-dollar deal. I wasn't going to get Love Story at first, but then I didn't have fifty cents and figured, it's worth another fifty to see this classic movie that I've always been curious to see.

Roland is playing now. "Old Rugged Cross." I have that on the Blacknuss album. When I worked at WPTS, I used to play that on my jazz show, especially during the Persian Gulf war. It wasn't exactly related to it, but his little oratory about getting across the cross in the beginning was a good thing for inspiration during that time. That and David Murray's version of "Amazing Grace." One time, or maybe a couple times, I played that right after the opening of MC5's Kick Out the Jams, stopping it right after "I give you a testimonial......." and it lead right into Murray's bass clarinet blowing that hymn.

This morning there was an estate sale in Wexford that mentioned records in the ad. I was thinking about going to it, even though it started at 7:30. But I went to bed close to 3. I set the clock for 7 to see if I could still do it, but I shut the alarm off and crawled back into bed. Had I gone, I would've needed to go on Mapquest, stopped to get gas....it wasn't worth it for what might have been any battered stack of Jerry Vale, Mitch Miller and Bobby Vinton albums in hopes of one treasure.

Having said that, the collection was probably a bunch of old Prestige and Riverside albums....

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Must talk about the one estate I wandered into yesterday. The booty from above came from the first and third sales I went to.
But the second sale was something. There were signs all over Beacon Street. Big honkin' signs all over the place: ESTATE SALE TODAY!!!! It was in an apartment on a very exclusive cul de sac off of Beacon. One of the streets that leads to it has signs every few feet about how it's a private road. Geez. I walked up there and figured, well if I'm going to get yelled out for going up here, they shouldn't've put signs at the bottom of it.

Anyhow, when I realized the sale was in this fancy apartment building, I walked up and was told by a nice 20-something guy that we had to sign in and wait for someone to come down and escort us to the apartment. When we finally got up there, it looked like some space age swingers pad fromt he '60s, complete with wild silver furniture, white marble floors (tile?) and mirrors all over the place. And hardly anything for sale, it seemed.

I asked about records and the lady said she wasn't sure but they might have thrown them out. IEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!! With an affluent place like this -- her parents lived there, who, judging by her age were probably at least in their 80s -- they probably had a nice stash of jazz, I betcha.

Well, she found out and told me that her niece took the records and the turntable. Oh well. At least I knew there wasn't some nice stash of vinyl sitting in a trash bin somewhere.

Our victrola is fixed so I might pick it up today. Ha-cha.

Another door closes

So a few days ago I found out that eResource, one of the few local papers for which I freelance, is closing up shop soon. And it was - uh - funny how I discovered this news. I filed my review with the editor on Monday, like I do every other week. The next day I checked my email and saw a response from him that read something like, "Thanks for everything, Mike. Good Luck." So I wrote back asking about the sense of finality in the email.

"Oh, didn't you get the email from my boss? May 19 is our last issue. CBS Radio decided it wasn't worth keeping the paper going."

Which proves that anytime I have some sort of job or regular commitment where I can do whatever the hell I want, it ain't going to last too long. That's pretty much how it worked. I wrote a review every two weeks, pretty much on whoever I wanted. My first review was of a CD by Lou Grassi, a free jazz drummer from New York (who I had previously profiled in JazzTimes). And that review came to me after a conversation at my neighborhood bar with the then-art director. She got me in the door and they needed me to write something pronto. After that I varied: Herb Alpert, Beth Orton, Death Cab for Cutie, Chris Potter (the saxophonist, not the local paper editor).

Well I'll have more Mondays free to either be a beatnik (my way of describing sitting around drinking coffee and listening to music), reviewing CDs for JazzTimes or other more productive things.

Long Live Jackie McLean

I just found out tonight that Jackie McLean - alto saxophonist extraordinaire and one of the last living hard boppers - is dead. And has been since March 31. Not sure how he died, but I just read about it tonight. It kind of crushes me and touches me on a few different levels.

First of all, as stated, he's one of the few big guys that was still left from a particular era. He came up playing with Monk, Miles, Hank Mobley, Mingus (to name few)...none of those guys are still around. In fact the only person left of that stature is Sonny Rollins. Those guys encapsulated all aspects of an era: guys who grew up in a segrated time but didn't let that (and, I suppose it should be mentioned, a narcotics habit) get in the way of creating a powerful artform. I'm sure those guys were pretty hardline about getting paid at the end of the night, but it's nothing like the way it is now, where people of their stature won't get up onstage unless the money is there.

Jackie came out of Charlie Parker's influence and was still accepting of the "new thing," the free jazz players. He even did an album that had Ornette Coleman playing trumpet ("Old and New Gospel") at a time when everyone thought Ornette had REALLY gone off his rocker by trying to play trumpet and violin in addition to alto sax. Jackie kept his ears open and knew that the music had to keep evolving, and got some valuable ideas out of the freer forms. His albums "One Step Beyond" and "Destination: Out," both made with Grachan Moncur III, bear this out.

And furthermore, I interviewed Jackie a couple years ago and even though he was 10 minutes from a ride to the airport, he still managed to take the time to give me some thoughtful answers to his questions. Nice guy. Not everyone is like that. Even in later years, he seemed to have this desire to get an idea across about the music and the people who play it.

I might listen to nothing but Jackie McLean albums for the next 24 hours or so. I'm listening to the "Jack Knife" twofer on Blue Note right now. Man, this is a hot album. Charles Tolliver and Lee Morgan split trumpet duties; Larry Willis on piano, Larry Ridley on bass, Jack DeJohnette on drums. "On the Nile" is a totally brilliant song. I bought this album around 1990 when I was in college and played the hell out of it.

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Two nights ago I had a dream that Phantom Tollbooth's last album "Power Toy" had been reissued and that I was asked to write a review of it. I was really excited because I don't often get to write rock reviews anymore - at least not on assignment (more on that later). Anyway, the review was really flowing. I was really inspired, had a good handle on the historical context, the connection to Robert Pollard (ol' Bob took the original backing tracks and added different vocals a couple years ago; it was kind of lackluster) and the overall quality of the album. Then I woke up. Realizing that there was no review written and no assignment, I was disappointed.

Not sure what made me dream about the album. I still look back fondly on Phantom Tollbooth. They predated the whole math-rock/throwback to art rock style, while still maintaining a link to bands like Husker Du. And their lyrics seems to draw on the surreal, almost Beefheart-but-not-quite aesthetic. A friend of mine once said they were kind of like a cross between Rush and Husker Du.

The Fearnots practiced on Sunday and Monday. David, our drummer, now lives in New York, but he's back in town this week and we're playing a show at Gooski's on Saturday. For those uninitiated, that's the neighborhood bar up the hill and around the corner from my house. I'm excited. The first practice sounded good, like we were dusting ourselves off with minimal effort. But the second day sounded great. When we were playing a lot last year, we were tight as a drum, making all kinds of weird time changes, combining melody with that math rock thing (I couldn't think of that term in the last graph and just went back and changed it) but adding melody and hooks.

Time to either start a new entry and change the subject or to stop altogether for a few hours.

Note to self: must update profile. UPDATE?! More like "create one."

Just got back from seeing the Betty Page movie, which was fun if a little on the fluffy side. It's good to see Lili Taylor working again. She went to high school with my friend Grant and apparently had a crush on him. Lucky guy. What a good line years later, twould be....

Anyhow onto the music.

Yesterday, my recent auction win came in the mail: "Coltrane's Sound." Now I have all the John Coltrane Atlantic albums, except "Bags and Trane." I ended up paying $10 for this one, which is sort of in keeping with my "I'll pay as much for a vinyl copy as I would if for a new CD of it" motto. But I wasn't sure where in the original pressing category this one fell. (I don't swear by that, it's just that there's some lure in finding an original pressing of a jazz album. I guess it makes me feel like I'm stepping back in time. I will probably revisit this idea in future posts as well because it's an ongoing thought that I've never put into words before.) Anyhow, the album was a pretty recent pressing, probably from the '80s, as it reminds me of my copies of "My Favorite Things" and "Giant Steps" which I bought back then. I don't feel hoodwinked by the purchase. I mean, it's in beautiful shape. And I could've bought it on CD for about the same price, and gotten a few bonus tracks in the process. But it wouldn't be the same. Taking it 3 songs at a pop is the way to enjoy it. Makes you appreciate the subtleties more. I have "Coltrane Jazz" on disc and I don't feel like I've gotten as much out of it. This one is already starting to sink into my head deeply.

I'm surprised that there are a couple songs on this album that I've heard regularly on WDUQ. "Central Park West" and "Equinox." Well I think I've heard Ben Opie do "Equinox" and I mistook it for a tune on "Crescent." It could have been on "Crescent." And -- here's proof that I don't get as attached to CDs -- I thought "Central Park West" was on "Coltrane Jazz." The song was as familiar to me as the tracks on a disc that I don't play as much.

Anyhow, great record. The "classic" quartet wasn't in place because Steve Davis was playing bass and Jimmy Garrison wasn't in the picture, but boy is this group tight, making all the turns together. I remember when I bought "My Favorite Things" in high school (my first Trane album) I was so into the endings of the songs, when Elvin would do a press roll and things seemed to end with such authority, I thought this was what music was supposed to be like, whether it's punk rock or jazz or..........well, in 1984 what else was there?

This morning over breakfast I also listened to one side of "Hank Mobley and the All Stars." This was another recent auction win. It's a copy that has electronically reprocessed stereo but it doesn't sound all that bad.

Great album. And as much as I love Hank Mobley, some of those hard bop outings can start to blend together. (Although, ironically over the past few weeks I've been on a hard bop kick and have had tunes go through my head while at work and I've been able to single out and identify song titles and leader of the session.)

Anyhow, "All Stars" has Mobley and vibist Milt Jackson as the lead melody instruments, which makes for a great team. Art Blakey, Doug Watkins and Horace Silver round out the band. Some of it is standard hard bop and Blakey plays the same drum solo that he plays on numerous albums. But on its own merit, it's a fun listen.

But after my first cup of coffee, despite having a glass of water on hand, I was fighting to stay awake. I laid down on the couch and nodded off. I must've been snoring real hard because when I woke up, my nose and throat were really raw.

By then there wasn't much time to do anything before work but check email and shower. Hence the blog tonight.

Tomorrow there's an estate sale in Beechview that'll have vinyl. Hopefully I'll find some cool junk!