Cockburn plays the Aladdin

Heady days, here at the Sound and Fury dispatch desk. A weekend full of events. Sunday evening, I made my way down to the Aladdin Theater to see Rose City favorite Bruce Cockburn play.

For those who aren't familiar with him, Bruce is a traveling bard, a guitarist/singer/songwriter out of Ottawa. He's traveled all over the world, often to troubled places: Afghanistan, Mozambique, Nicaragua. He's a passionate advocate for the downtrodden and for environmental issues. He uses that passion as inspiration for his songs. He writes about injustice, often angrily. But there is also a spiritual thread in his lyrics. He writes movingly about those moments that world travelers know; the lonely-triumphant feeling one gets when one is all alone and far from home, the peace that descends on the soul at odd moments.

He passes through Portland every year or so. I last saw him in 1998 at the Rose Garden.

This time it was the Aladdin Theater, a scant three miles from my home. (Ah, the perks of living in the city!) Aladdin seats about 600 people and it was filled to capacity. It was an older crowd. At 52, I was on the younger side of it. Bruce is himself 68.

In the moments before the show, when the lights went down, the customary low booming calls of "BRUUUUCE!" went up from among the audience, who erupted when he came out. He slung on his guitar, stepped up to the mic, gave a wave and a low-key "Hi, there. Thanks for coming out," and launched right in.

Just Bruce, by himself. There was no band. Throughout the evening he enthralled his audience with two six-string guitars, a twelve-string, a dobro, and another instrument that I describe as a cross between a steel guitar and an autoharp. He also used foot pedals to sound two different sets of chimes and made skillful use of effects pedals.

His black shirt and trousers and high black military boots lent him a severe appearance, but he engaged the audience jovially. Portland loves Bruce and he assured us it was mutual.

He played two sets and a set of 3 encores. I was pleased with the set list. In addition to his new material, he hit a lot of the old favorites: "Stolen Land," "Wondering Where the Lions Are," "If I Had a Rocket Launcher," "And They Call it Democracy," and, of course "Lovers in a Dangerous Time."

The evening felt like a reunion of old friends who thoroughly enjoy one another.

I love Bruce.

Padded with power here they come
International loan sharks backed by the guns
Of market hungry military profiteers
Whose word is a swamp and whose brow is smeared
With the blood of the poor

Who rob life of its quality
Who render rage a necessity
By turning countries into labour camps
Modern slavers in drag as champions of freedom

Sinister cynical instrument
Who makes the gun into a sacrament -
The only response to the deification
Of tyranny by so-called "developed" nations'
Idolatry of ideology

North South East West
Kill the best and buy the rest
It's just spend a buck to make a buck
You don't really give a flying fuck
About the people in misery

IMF dirty MF
Takes away everything it can get
Always making certain that there's one thing left
Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt

See the paid-off local bottom feeders
Passing themselves off as leaders
Kiss the ladies shake hands with the fellows
Open for business like a cheap bordello

And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy
And they call it democracy

See the loaded eyes of the children too
Trying to make the best of it the way kids do
One day you're going to rise from your habitual feast
To find yourself staring down the throat of the beast
They call the revolution

IMF dirty MF
Takes away everything it can get
Always making certain that there's one thing left
Keep them on the hook with insupportable debt

But, as I stated earlier, this was a fun-filled weekend. My wife and my Senegalese community had a party on Saturday night. More about that later...

Galactic/Latyrx at the Crystal

Latyrx rocks the Crystal

At my age, shows that don't start until 9:30pm are a challenge. Nonetheless, Jeanine Potts and I rallied last night to attend a late-night show at Portland's Crystal Ballroom. Featured was Galactic, a funk/jam band out of New Orleans with a new album called Carnivale Electros. San Fransisco's high-energy hiphop band, Latyrx (pronounced la-TEE-rex) opened.

Latyrx generated a ton of energy with their rapid-fire, hard-hitting lyrics. It's more performance art than music. The ensemble consisted of frontmen Lyrics Born and Lateef the Truth Speaker, backed up by a drummer and a deejay. (I've never been clear on what a deejay does... Is it just a matter of playing samples?)

Their tunes are chock-full of hard-hitting rap lyrics. The word count of each song would probably match that of many short novels and the ideas expressed therein come at you so fast that it's nearly impossible to follow them real-time. (Remember that old cliché about drinking from a fire hose?) The message was generally positive and the set did not let up.

Galactic takes the stage

Galactic took the stage sometime around 11pm.

The core band consists of 5 members: Jeff Raines (guitars), Robert Mercurio (bass), Richard Vogel (keyboard), Ben Ellman (saxes, harmonica), and Stanton Moore (drums). They were joined by a trombonist and vocalist (whose names I did not catch).

Jams

As one expects from a "jam band," the set consisted of long extended jams and solos that highlighted the astounding musicianship of the band members. Everyone excelled, but in particular Mercurio's mid-show bass solo was one of the best I've seen. And Stanton Moore played the entire set without a break. (He seemed to revel in it.)

Latyrx's Lyrics Born joins Galactic onstage

The band played a mix of original material and covers (I particularly enjoyed their rock solid cover of "I am the Walrus.")

We left before the encore at about 1am. Great show. The Crystal Ballroom, with its suspended dance floor, is a unique venue, and the Galactic audience is positive and mellow.

Latyrx made me a fan. I'll definitely be adding them to my Pandora play list. Galactic, of course, was already on it.

If you get a chance, go see either/both of these bands.

The benefits of Pandora

Perhaps the best new development in this Age of the Cloud is internet radio.

Last summer, at the suggestion of Brother Eric, Maty and I took the plunge into the world of smart phones.  The first app I downloaded was Pandora, the internet radio service.  Since then, I don't think a single day has passed when I didn't spend time listening to it.  In the last 6 months, Pandora has expanded my appreciation of music far beyond anything I might have achieved by collecting CDs or downloading MP3 files.

Pandora lets you set up "stations," which you seed with the name of an artist, a genre, or even a song.  You can have up to 100 stations.  When you play that station on your mobile device, Pandora selects music by that artist, or in that genre, as well as music by other similar artists.  I've created my maximum allowed stations and set Pandora to randomly play from all of them.

The result is that, in the short time that I've been using Pandora, I've become fluent in reggae, zydeco, country/western, 70s singer-songwriters, blue-grass, Celtic, Mbalax, classical, crooners, jazz, gospel, Motown, funk, and rap.  I'd had some exposure to most of these genres before, but with Pandora, I've become well-acquainted with many different artists.  Miles Davis, Beethoven, Etta James, Manu Chao, Andy Williams, Spoon, the Black Keys... I could go on forever.

At one time, I had what I considered to be a respectable collection of CDs.  All my favorite classic rock and pop bands (The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Jethro Tull, Steely Dan, et alia) were represented, their jewel cases proudly displayed on my bookshelves.  (And before that, of course, were vinyl albums.  I've still got a stack of those collecting dust in the basement.)  But when a CD cost $15 a pop, limited resources curtailed any notions I had toward exploring new types of music.

Old habits die hard.  Even though I never listen to my CDs anymore, I've still got them stored away and everything is backed up on the Cloud.  But I'm not sure there is a need, apart from those few CDs in my possession that are so rare that they aren't included in the Pandora catalog.

Pandora is a great way to discover new music, to explore genres, and to reacquaint oneself with music from one's past.  If you're "wired up" I recommend it.

Closing out the year, 2011

River runnin' high

Willamette River was running high yesterday on account of all the rain we've been getting.  Not just here in Portland, but all up and down the valley.  Raining like the dickens for the last few weeks.

That's western Oregon in December, though.  Shouldn't expect anything different.

Leftover Salmon and Cracker sharing the stage

Last night, Jeanine and I went to see the hippie jam band, Leftover Salmon at the Roseland Theater.  I'd seen them before back in the late 90s.  I believe the current incarnation of the band includes only two members from that time:  Drew Emmett, the singer/mando-fiddle-guitar player, and Vince Herman, the guitar-player/front man.  Banjo, keyboards, bass, and drums rounded out the ensemble.  Alas, I don't remember the names of the other members.

As you might guess from the instruments involved, Leftover Salmon has its roots in blue-grass.  But, being a jam band, they take it in many different directions over the course of the show.  The way it works is this:  the rhythm section hold things down, while the other members take turns soloing between verses. 

Roseland full up

Roseland boasts a capacity of over 1400, and I imagine last night's crowd approached that number.  It was pretty tight, especially down on the main floor.  People were having a good time.  And there were more than a few inebriates in the crowd.  But, as is nearly always the case at hippie concerts, the vibe was happy and peaceful.  Just another reason why I like hanging with hippies.

Here's a little taste of the show.

Jeanine and I stayed until the set break, then headed out just after 1AM.  Can you believe it?  We left before the show was over!  I'm getting old.  But not too old to manage a rally now and then.

View from Tabor

This morning, even though I hadn't slept but 2 or 3 hours, I pushed on up to the top of Tabor, determined to have one last look before the year was out.  Old Man Hood was nowhere to be seen, withdrawn behind the fog and gloom.  I suspect he conjured it up himself, rather than be bothered by the sight of supplicants on dead Tabor contemplating his imperious glory.

Follow the path

The last hours of the Year of Our Lord, 2011, slip away as I write.  It goes down as a good year in my chronicle.  No major disasters.  A few laughs.  A lot of love.

Happy New Year!

Doane Perry explains

Doane Perry

On November 1, 1997, brothers Eric, Calee, and I found ourselves at the Hult Center in Eugene, Oregon to see our favorite rock band, Jethro Tull.  I don't remember much about the show, itself, I'm afraid.  I've seen so many Jethro Tull shows (perhaps a dozen), that they all run together.

But the reason this show stands out in my memory is because, after the show, my brothers and I hung out at the stage door to see if we could snag an autograph or two.  (Eric and I got to meet Ian Anderson (himself!) in 1994 after a show in Portland.)

We waited for quite a while, along with probably two dozen other fans.  As the time stretched, the crowd dwindled.  Eventually, one of the security staff (and what an obnoxious lot they were) came out to announce that the band had all left by another exit. 
 
As we turned to leave, two Englishmen, obviously with the band, came out.  They saw us. "Sorry, fellows, everyone's gone," one of them said.  "Except for Doane."  He looked at his companion.  "Doane's still here, isn't he?"  The other man shrugged.

They'd hardly finished this exchange when Doane came out the door.  He wore his iconic red beret.  A gym bag was slung over his shoulder.  Doane Perry stands some 6 and a half feet tall.  His face is oval, with a high forehead and owlish eyes.  He joined Jethro Tull as the band's drummer in 1984. 

We were thrilled to meet him and he amiably agreed to sign our playbills.  I wanted to make the most of the opportunity, but I couldn't think of a good question.  It was Calee who finally came out with one.  "Will you help me settle a bet with my brother?  Who's a better guitarist?  Steve Howe? Or Ian Anderson?"

I've always remembered Doane's answer.  He smiled and shook his head.  "There's no 'better' in music.  There is 'faster' or 'more techincal.'  But there is no 'better.'"

It was so self-evident that I felt foolish not knowing what his answer was before he said it.  It is a lesson I've carried with me ever since.

Four decades of Jethro Tull

Jethro Tull circa 1974 
Front row:  John Evan, Ian Anderson, Martin Barre
Back row:  Jeffrey Hammond-Hammond, unknown child, Barriemore Barlow

In one of those rare and magical instances of synchronicity, as I was walking home from Pho Van yesterday evening, my ambulatory ruminations turned to one of my very favorite pop/rock music bands:  Jethro Tull.  I was thinking, specifically, about my collection of Jethro Tull albums, which includes every album they released in the United States from 1969 (Stand Up) through 1987 (Crest of a Knave).  I was deep in my reverie, thinking about that ripping instrumental jam in the middle of "Backdoor Angels" (War Child) when I got a call from Dave Hauth informing me that, at that very moment, local classic rock station KGON was running an interview and retrospective of Jethro Tull's career as part of the "Off the Record" series.  I hurried home to listen.

I've been a Jethro Tull fan since I discovered them during my junior year of high school in 1977.  By that time, Jethro Tull had been making albums for a full decade and so I had an entire catalog of music to investigate.  I quickly discovered that Jethro Tull was (and is) a band that is constantly evolving.  In the late 60s, Jethro Tull was mostly a standard rhythm-and-blues band.  But then, in the early 70s they transitioned to progressive rock.  In the late 70s they began incorporating traditional Celtic music themes into their work.  Then, sometime in the 80s they attempted to transition to a heavy-metalish band, although not particularly successfully.  I enjoy everything the band created up to the mid-80s, but I am particularly fond of their "progressive rock" period, with bookend albums Aqualung (1971) and Minstrel in the Gallery (1975).

The band's lineup has changed radically over the years as well.  In fact, Ian Anderson, the band's songwriter and front man, is the only artist who appears on every Tull album.  Even guitarist Martin Barre, who has been with the band since 1968 was not in the original lineup, replacing Mick Abrams on the band's second album, Stand Up. 

The first time I saw a live Jethro Tull performance was in Seattle in 1985 as part of their Under Wraps tour.  Since that time, I've seen them perform on some half-dozen occasions at various venues in the Pacific Northwest including one of the best live performances I've experienced when they played at the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall, here in Portland in 1987 as part of the Crest of a Knave tour.  (Fairport Convention opened for them.)

I actually had the opportunity to meet Ian Anderson when Tull passed through Portland in the early 90s.  My (ex-)brother-in-law is an avid autograph hound and he knew that Ian routinely greeted fans at the stage door after the show to sign paraphernalia and shake hands.

And so, my brother-in-law, myself, and my brother Eric (also a die-hard Tull fan) waited in the rain for some 45 minutes after the show.  We stood at the front of a line of about 50 people, just outside the stage entrance to Portland's Civic Auditorium.  We hoped to get Ian's autograph.  We were not disappointed.  Eventually, someone associated with the band opened the door and let us in where I came face to face with my hero.

He looked a little wary as I approached him.  I don't blame him.  I was dressed like a vagabond (my own version of the down-and-out Aqualung) and I was thoroughly soaked by Portland rain.  I stammered, "Mr. Anderson, I'm a huge fan.  Will you sign this?"  I had been carrying the album cover of Minstrel in the Gallery under my jacket in anticipation.  I pulled it out and thrust it at him.

"Sure," said he.

"I've gotta tell you," I went on, "Baker Street Muse is an awesome tune."

"Oh yes, that one," said he.  He put his hand to his chin, remembering.

Eric was right behind me, and he got Ian to sign Eric's copy of Too Old to Rock 'n' Roll:  Too Young to Die! which Eric still proudly displays in his living room hutch.

In all honesty, I have to say that I haven't much cared for anything that Jethro Tull has produced for the last 20 years.  But, I'm still a huge fan.  If they pass by on their next tour, you can be sure I'll be at the show.  Just another one of the hundreds of thousands of Jethro Tull fans.

They grow all their roses red and paint our skies blue
Drop one penny in every second bowl, make half the beggars lose;
Why do the faithful have such a will to believe in something
And call it the name they choose having chosen nothing?
--Backdoor Angels, Jethro Tull

Beatles play list

I'm listening to a quickly-constructed play list of some of my favorite Beatles tunes. Here it is:

1. Hey Jude
2. Don't Let Me Down
3. I'm Only Sleeping
4. She Said She Said
5. Martha My Dear
6. Day Tripper
7. I Am the Walrus
8. Helter Skelter
9. I Should Have Known Better
10. I Feel Fine
11. Lovely Rita
12. Rain

There's no such thing as an obscure Beatles tune. And I venture that there are few persons in the English-speaking world that cannot sing at least a few bars from something on this list. But there are also those disaffected souls for whom the Beatles have become so ubiquitous that they can no longer muster interest.

God save me from such a fate!

I can understand how it is with younger people, especially, who were never given the opportunity to discover the Beatles, having had the Fab Four forced upon their aural senses while they rocked in their very cradles. They didn't choose to listen to the Beatles. They came into a Beatles-influenced world.

Unlike so many artists today (and maybe always), the Beatles were never content to rest on their past successes. Listen to Meet the Beatles, the first album released in the United States, and compare it to The "White" Album or Abbey Road. Their artistic evolution is fascinating. (No disrespect intended, but have the Rolling Stones done anything new in the last 25 years?)

The idea that the Beatles is now part of the "establishment," the accepted norm, is ironic when one considers that, in the impassioned '60s, the Beatles were part of the movement that transformed culture. The Beatles, believe it or not, were edgy back in the day. They admitted to experimenting with hallucinogenic drugs, smoked dope more or less openly, went to India to study with an Eastern-tradition holy man. To be a fan of the Beatles implied an open-mindedness, a willingness to examine new ideas and societal mores.

People will sometimes offer that Rush Limbaugh or Glenn Beck or Michael Savage have significant influence on our culture. Well, even Rush Limbaugh with his 30 million listeners has a long way to go before he comes close to the influence of the Beatles. And this: what the Beatles gave us was positive, expansive; not like the vitriol of right-wing loudmouths who influence culture through revulsion and disgust.

Apple Music and MTV just released a Beatles version of the popular video game "Rock Band." The advertisements are all over the media. I suppose some of the mystique remains. And I think younger people will one day find themselves humming tunes from their childhood days, Beatles tunes.

I hope so. A world that admires the Beatles is a better world, in my humble opinion.

Support your local busker!

The incomparable Diane Patterson

Busk: To play music or perform entertainment in a public place, usually while soliciting money. - The Free Dictionary

Anyone who lives in or frequents any major population center is no doubt familiar with the sight: someone, usually but not always a young person, standing on a street corner or under a portico winding a sax, or beating a drum, or hammering a guitar and belting out a tune.

Buskers, roving minstrels, street performers, have existed throughout history. Tales abound of traveling musicians earning their daily bread by entertaining. And, if you ask me, that's honest pay for honest work.

Buskers at the Oregon Country Fair...

Living in a somewhat "hip" part of Portland, I often encounter buskers just down the block from my house, on Hawthorne Boulevard. Some are better than others, for sure. But I've tried my own hand at busking, and it takes lot of courage and determination to get out there and do it. Anyone that has the guts to lay it on the line to a bunch of mostly disinterested passers-by has my admiration.

...on Hawthorne Boulevard,

But there are a lot of very talented buskers. I've seen street performances that are every bit as passionate and intricate as anything that one might witness in the Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall. Try to tell me that some manufactured phenomenon like Britney Spears has anything at all on artists like Diane Patterson or Jim Page and I'm afraid we're just going to have to agree to disagree.

in Barcelona...

When I'm out walking around the neighborhood and I see a busker putting his or her soul out there, I'll stop and give a listen. If I like what I hear, I'll drop some change into the hat. Or, if I really like what I hear, I'll buy a CD, if the busker has one to sell. And if I don't especially like what I hear, I'll at least give a smile and a thumbs-up. As a musician, I know that every musician lives for validation.

Buskers are not panhandlers, people. They provide a service. If you enjoy what you're hearing, don't be shy... let them know you appreciate it.

and in Bergen, Norway.

Support your local busker!

The Black Crowes blast Edgefield

The Black Crowes

Last Friday night, my old pal, Andre Danielson and I headed on out to the Edgefield Pub to catch the Black Crowes on tour for their latest album, Warpaint. It was a splendid evening for an outdoor concert, and the venue is such that you can get a good view of the stage from nearly anywhere. It was a general admission show, no advance seating, but the lawn was gently sloped toward the stage so that the people in the back could see over the people in front of them. All in all a good venue, although I don't recommend the food at this or any other McMenamin's establishment.

I've been a fan of the Black Crowes ever since their first album, Shake Your Money Maker was released way back in 1990. The band's fortunes have risen and fallen since then and I've lost track of them for years at a time.

Some controversy surrounded the reception that Warpaint received from the music media when the magazine Maxim wrote a mediocre review of the work without ever having heard the album! (In it's March issue, the publication assigned the album 2.5 stars (out of a possible 5) and wrote that the work "hasn't left Chris Robinson and the gang much room for growth.")

The Crowes were understandably upset about this irresponsible journalism and they issued a scathing press release in response. Maxim later apologized.

So, as yet, I haven't heard the new album. Rather, I went to the show on the strength of the Crowes past as a good down-home rock-and-roll band that puts on a great show. Their sound is reminiscent of the Rolling Stones or the Faces, and that, to me, is just good rock and roll. I had seen them once before, back in the early 90's at Portland's Civic Auditorium and I new that it would be a high-energy event.

This incarnation of the Black Crowes features the band's two founders, brothers Chris (vocals, acoustic guitar) and Rich Robinson (guitar), Luther Dickinson (guitar), Adam MacDougall (keyboards), Sven Pipien (bass), and Steve Gorman (drums). There were also two female backup singers, but I couldn't find their names anywhere. Gorman and the Robinson brothers are the only remaining members of the original lineup, but I'm happy to report that the Crowes still maintain their southern rock, jam band flavor.

The show was high energy and full of the long drawn-out jams that fans of the jam band genre really dig. (Think Allman Brothers, or Phish, or the Grateful Dead, or String Cheese Incident, or Leftover Salmon.) The band opened with some old favorites including "Gone" and "Soul Singing." There was a long middle set where the tempo subsided somewhat while they played material from the new album. Then they finished up with a rousing third set that included a playing of their break-out hit version of the old Otis Redding tune, "Hard to Handle." (Although this was a crowd pleaser, it seemed to both Andre and me that the band was not overly enthusiastic about playing it. I'm sure it gets boring after some 18 years.)

Energetic and dynamic performers

The Crowes came back out for an encore, doing cover versions of the Little Feat tune, "Willin'," and the Band tune, "Don't Do It."

Overall, the band seemed in good spirits, and it was infectious. If you get a chance to see them, I recommend that you do so. They put on a great show, full of exuberance and energy.

Here's a performance from Amsterdam, earlier in the tour:

More video faves...

Happy pre-Memorial Day Friday!

A couple videos from some of my favorite artists to start your weekend. See you next week!

Neil Young: Old Man

Rage Against the Machine: Killing in the Name

Frank Zappa: Montana

Led Zeppelin: Immigrant Song

Do you dig the Beatles?

The Beatles are probably still my favorite band of all time. Besides writing and performing great tunes, they defined an era in western culture. An examination of the musical transitions the band underwent from 1962 to 1972 clearly shows that this was a band that was never content to rest comfortably on the (unprecedented) success they had achieved. They were always pushing forward, trying new things.

So, in the interest of Friday fun, I invite you to take part in my Beatles poll.

Beatlemania!

Who is your favorite Beatle? John Paul George Ringo No favorite, I like them all Current Results

A Christmas Song, by Jethro Tull

Once in royal David's city stood a lonely cattle shed

Where a mother laid her baby;

You'd do well to remember the things he later said;
When you're stuffing yourselves at the Christmas parties,
You'll just laugh when I tell you to take a running jump;

You're missing the point I'm sure does not need making;
The Christmas spirit is not what you drink;

So how can you laugh when your own mother's hungry?

And how can you smile when your reasons for smiling are wrong?

And if I've just messed up your thoughtless pleasures,
Remember if you wish, this is just a Christmas song;
(Hey, Santa, pass us that bottle will ya?)

Video faves...

Friday fun. Videos of some of my favorite bands.

Jethro Tull: Thick As A Brick

This video is from the Too Old To Rock 'n Roll era, just before Ian Anderson restructured the band. This incarnation, with Martin Barre (of course), John Evan, John Glascock, David Palmer, and Barriemore Barlow is one of my favorites. One of the many faces of Jethro Tull.

This is the old Yes, with Steve Howe, Jon Anderson, Chris Squire, Alan White, and Rick Wakeman. To me, this will always be the true Yes line up.

CSNY: Down by the River

From the bygone flower power era. I love to watch Stephen Stills and Neil Young trade guitar licks. Although their relationship has been rocky, they obviously loved to play together. (David Crosby looks like he is really high, doesn't he?)

Joni Mitchell: Cactus Tree

This is Joni before she hit it big. Cactus Tree is a song that so many men can relate to, when they think about that woman each of them has in his past; the woman that he wanted so bad he could taste it, but that just wasn't ready.

Van Morrison: Tupelo Honey

I was in San Sebastian, Spain, back in 1999, with an Australian named Jay, whom I'd befriended on the train up from Barcelona. We were hanging out in an Irish pub (hanging out in an Irish pub, in Spain, how's that for irony?) getting drunk and listening to Van Morrison's Hymns to the Silence. I said "Van's the Man!"

"Van is the Man," said Jay. "He's never let me down."

We kicked a few back in Van's honor.

Bob Dylan: Isis

One of Bob's stranger incarnations. What's with the white face? Isis tells a great story in the signature Bob Dylan way: he sketches the story out and allows you, the listener to fill in the details...

The Beatles: Hey Jude

The Fab Four. There will never be another band like the Beatles.