Ornette Coleman - Science Fiction (Part II)

Ornette Colemen
Science Fiction - Part II
1971

Why am I writing about this record? [LINK]

OK. My mind is ready. Pushing 'Play' on 'Happy House'; 

An element of that template discussed in part 1. all instruments playing in unison while drums and bass roll around in the background. Short bursts of ideas punctuated with long rests. Setting up a free-for-all of chattering in the pre-solo section.

Is it unfair that saxophone always makes me think of ducks? There is a temptation to associate this kind of feeling with a frantic panic or manic psychosis. David Lynch loves this kind of shit. But there is an underlying current of calm, serene focus. For anyone that's ever played an instrument and tried/accomplished playing lines like this, you know there is an amount of total focus and control that is needed to give the impression of no focus or control.

If Jazz is a koan, this is the answer to the koan. In the interim between this and the first part, I did look up who played trumpet on this record. A lot of different people. But yes, many times it does appear that Ornette Coleman himself is playing the trumpet. I suppose I should have known this, but I didn't. That's a pretty cool thing to learn! I Don't think it is him on this track though.

I really find myself trying to look through the mix to find the bass. That guy is just doing some incredible work here. I don't understand drums enough to pick out the subtleties of the percussion, but the bass work is clear as day to me. As I said before, it is clearly revolutionary. There are a few really nice textures he helps build. Dropping out for 4-8 bars at a time when everyone starts chattering. Edging in and out with rising or descending half-steps or modal tones. These are things I want to process and begin including in my own compositional/arrangement theories.

Another seminal sounding drum solo. These tracks are like water flowing down a creek, turning into a river, finding small eddies inside stony nooks. 'Elizabeth' - swirling, methodical. The Bass is being bowed and finding all manner of effects not truly appreciated in the mainstream until the advent of ubiquitous electronic production.

I find myself again searching for the 'glue'. This sound clearly holds together, but how? It's as if an invisible force fills in the gaps, making it coherent. Again with the Star Wars references. I wasn't purposefully doing that because of the title of the record. Interesting how the subconscious works.

There is a lot to be learned here for musicians of every genre. The concepts and consensuses that hold these sounds together, willing them into coherency are the principals of arrangement. Ethereal concepts, cousins to Platonic solids.

Foundational elements. I just described this track as 'swirling'. And now five minutes in, it has started to develop into shapes and figures. A microcosmic, musical analogy for the formation of the universe. The Bass droning and dropping half steps slowly. Slipping in and out of poly-meter. Resting briefly on a small patch of ii-V-I, then off to play again. Those effects! The bass makes up a large part of the otherwise unobservable glue here (and possibly most of the tracks). When all else (including the drums) carry a connotation of aimless wandering, the bass provides a solid contrast of intent.

Absolutely not to say that the other parts are not intentional. They surely have to be. But they do not carry that immediate ethos of intent. The bass is going somewhere. Always either going somewhere or holding down the tarpaulins from flying away.

When the other instruments are playing the melody line, it sounds almost as if the bass is playing the same notes as in the melody but just a little faster. It gives these parts a 'slippery' feel. The track ends with those gorgeous bass effects! wow!

If you only listen to one track on this record, make it 'Elizabeth'. Stunning!

'Written Word' - These tracks with only trumpet, drums and bass are likely Coleman. deduced by language and context. It's his record, so if there's only one lead instrument. probably him yeah? Nope.. there's the sax. Damn. That guy was blowing hard af. I forgot to look up whether Coltrane came before or after. I'm thinking before now. I don't know.. Was Coltrane in the 50's?

"Miles is not pleased with you!" :(

There is a modern Indian Saxophonist who I can not remember the name of, but he plays a lot of licks like this. It sounds just like language, which obviously music is. But it really SOUNDS like TALKING when played like this!  I love these moments when the musicians are just dressing out the skeleton of the chart. Again, like the cover of the record so perfectly captures, this pastel blending quality of the notes being played to the harmonic context they appear in.

It's also interesting to note that there is no 'chordal' context in a lot of these tracks. With only the base to hold down the figure, almost all harmony becomes completely fluid and subjective. This becomes a powerful weapon in the hands of a true Jedi. Whereas some tracks feel like Finn speeding down the mouth of a miniaturized death star, this track feels more like Luke projecting himself from the top of Mt. Whateverthefuck into the battle zone. A calm, yet all-encompassing energy. An Energy that would not be capable of being so powerful if it was anything but absolute calm. As the track unwinds we get a glimpse of Kylo Ren realizing that none of it was real. A small smattering of thoughts and a decaying cymbal crash show us Luke, dissolving into the everlasting force as he also realizes that none of it is real. 

I wonder, why did they call this 'Science Fiction'? 'Broken Shadows'; Two saxophones. Three Saxophones? 2 in the back, 1 solo. A distinctly different texture than the other 'slow, slippery' tracks on the record. The drums are very restrained, insisting on a groove instead of swerving around it. The addition of a solo instrument 'talking' over the background texture is the main new element here that gives this a three-dimensional aspect compared to the vocal tracks of the same style earlier.

It's as if all the previous tracks have worked to teach you the basic building blocks and now they are putting them together in some novel ways. The way a foreign language course builds in complexity, each unit dependent on and assuming you comprehended the previous.

'Rubber Gloves' - perfect track for being quarantined. This is how I feel most days now. a little stir crazy and a bit too slap happy. Stuck inside. Learning how to live with people that you live with. When you are stuck together with people for a long time like almost none of us have ever been. You find out that conversations are tricky without the naturally occurring intervals during the day and week where one can find space to process or gain perspective. There is a Call/Response format through the beginning of this track, which gradually becomes longer solo sections which are in and of themselves just longer calls and longer responses. But this is not a break dancing battle where opponents square off on a cardboard mat to challenge each other or try to be better or more creative. It's not a competition, it's a conversation. The difference is essential to understanding why this music sounds like it does.

'Good Girl Blues' I had to restart this track several times. What an INCREDIBLE SOUND! That has to be one of the reasons this album was called science fiction. in 1971 there were definitely bands experimenting with synthesizers and learning to painstakingly craft new sounds that we take for granted today. But no electronics are in use here, but the intro to this tune could have been one of those WHO songs like 'Baba' where Pete was experimenting with loops and synths!

I am not a huge fan of this swinging zoot suit kind of sound. The whole Brian Setzer vibe seems out of place for the context of this album. I would have skipped this track if it was much longer. It kind of just took me out of it. But all those crazy sounds were worth it! If Jody reads this, I know he'll accuse me of blasphemy on several levels. But I'm counting on his (and Miles') disappointment over my pathetic knowledge of jazz/music history for him to notice too much.

'Is it Forever'; Another one with this guy. He's probably a famous singer and a legend. This one is better than the last by miles (pun intended). It doesn't seem so presumptuous. But still, it sounds too affected. Did he know he was on the same record with whoever the female singer was on the first part? He is not hanging with her in the least. I know some of it was the style at the time. His voice is good, but it smacks to me like a movie-star looking dude that just. can't. act. His voice is killer, but the style is much too kitsch for me. 

Before I can get too tired of it, the instruments come back in with a very modern sounding orchestral arrangement. If you took out the glissandos, this could be a 1980's string quartet or something of that vintage.

I hate to have even one criticism of this record. But I have two. Both tracks with this guy on it. I would have much preferred to hear just instrumentals or bring back the woman singer from the beginning. I'm going to feel so dumb when I find out who it is, right? I have to know. The record is over. I'll look it up. Webster Armstrong. Hmm. I don't know, I guess I don't feel so bad about ragging him now. Killer voice. Let me make that clear.

While I'm researching things;

Charlie Haden on bass. Yeah, I know that name for sure. Can't say exactly from where. Probably as the bassist for Ornette Coleman. Ha!

And I don't feel so bad about the timeline thing. Looks like Coletrane and Coleman were contemporaries and I was right about the '50s'.

Perhaps Miles is only 'mildly annoyed' at me then. And I'm definitely going to get shit about that Brian Setzer comment.

Ornette Coleman - Science Fiction

Ornette Colemen
Science Fiction - Part I
1971 

Why am I writing about this record? [LINK]

Authors Note: This record is really dense and I decided to take a gonzo, real-time free form approach to the experience documentation. It is also a LONG double-disc/LP and I had to break it up into two parts. These are my impressions of part 1.

Pre-listen;

This suggestion comes from one of those few living masters of the Alpha Wave. My dear friend Jody. Our relationship began with him as my piano teacher. I only took a few lessons and then I had to disappear into the world and into myself for awhile to process even the first grain of knowledge he tried to give me. 10 years later we would reconnect for another series of powerful lessons that I am still processing. I love Ornette Coleman but I would say I haven’t ever really ‘listened intently’ to more than a few tracks. I have put his music on while I was studying or playing games, and I recognize his voice. However, there is so much information it feels a bit like trying to absorb Kant or Voltaire.

Fortunately I’m slightly better equipped to process Coleman than Voltaire (thanks in large part to Jody!) so I have an idea of what to expect and I’m eager to jump right in. But because I know what to expect I’m going in with a plan, of sorts. I want to keep from trying to comment on the technical or theoretical aspects of the music and instead I want to listen deeply and try to describe any Proustian jetstreams which are released. This could get weird.

What Reason Could I Give;
Loud, Rhapsody in Blue long notes. Summertime and the living is easy. The fish are jumpin' and everyone in sync. All horns follow the vocals in parallel while the drums and bass coordinate their own independent party. Solid introduction. Close my eyes. Turn up the volume. I swear I hear Chris Cornell in these vocal lines. He no doubt lifted a few things from this type of music.

Civilization Day; Bring it! Excited Geese running the streets of New York on a rainy night. Street lights reflected on wet pavement. Manic obsessiveness for the sake of existing. Joyous Panic. Drums bass, trumpet. Some reverb. That is all. The space is full and brilliant. I resist the urge to look up who is playing here. I should have done that beforehand. "I have to pee!" - “You should have done that at the last gas station” - “Whaaa!”. The sun comes out, it’s morning. What did we do last night? That was crazy. Fast forward motion lights blurred into carnival UFOs. Look out for that car! Jesus am I hung over or still high?

Only five minutes into the first track. I’m exhausted. I haven’t discovered how to listen to hyper bebop like this in a relaxed way. I think that’s the point. It forces you to either leave the room or get fucking hyper. And I know it’s going to keep pushing. I’m strapping in. I’m just going to let it take me. I’ll try to remain still and listen thoughtfully. When the energy finally pushes me to move, I will wait a little longer until the only avenue my mind has is to write the next sentence here.

Street Woman bass solo. How does only bass fill up so much space? Unrelenting forward pocket. Cohesion of aggregate sounds. Trying to identify all the instruments involved during the chorus. Sax, trumpet, bass drums obviously. But something else.. Two additional instruments? I remember, no, this is a quartet. 4 players. Is that right? Overdubs? Surely no overdubs. This feels too fluid, it had to have been played all live.

Science Fiction; There is no chaos here. There are a lot of notes. Some conflicting opinions and competing motives, but it exists as smoke. formless, yet cohesive. This track sounds exactly like the album art looks.

A consensus reached by the players that they should only exist within a wholly shared resonance. Once that consensus is reached, they can do anything they like and the center will hold. Even the introduction of a crying baby which is scientifically proven to be a jarring and unsettling sound is only slightly out of place and while it still pulls at those biological triggers deep within, it serves mostly to to put the rest of the sound into context.

Crying babies are a truly upsetting and dissonant sound, designed specifically by nature to sound so bad you must respond to it. Compare that please, directly with these other sounds. By direct contrast you see the ‘smoke of sound’ being produced is actually quite serene. Perhaps even joyous and meaningful.

There is likely some other meanings that can be derived from the baby, all of which have surely been dissected in a million student essays and critiques during the the last 50 years. There was a man saying something in severely punctuated sentences. Forcing the mind to automatically access the parts of the brain necessary for making sense out of noise. But because the words are so far apart, they lose their meaning. And in the spaces, the brain is forced to use that activated space to solve something, so it goes to work on the music, bringing it all into focus. Good trick.

Rock the Clock; Let’s play all the most annoying noises we can on the fiddle. This is experimentation with magic. A consensus has been reached with these fellows. As long as all of them are 100% in agreement at all times, the center will hold. "Hey, let’s see if we can do this thing that would not work under any other circumstances!" There is a wookie growling at someone in the background of this track. Do Wookie's play trumpet?

All My Life; Thank God, a respite. I love listening to the drums on the ‘calm’ tunes. Testing the absolute boundaries of the pocket. ‘The Pocket’. The holiest of temporal concepts, understood only vaguely by most and by me, practically not at all. Until I met Jody. It took him a long time but he was patient and I finally got it. I can’t always execute my feelings exactly in the pocket, but I can instantly recognize it now and maintain a deep appreciation for the dual tangible and quantum natures of it.

This is a template. Drums and bass carry on in tandem and seemingly obvious to the rest of the band. The rest of the band follows in parallel with a sliding and slow melody line. Both times accompanied by a solo/soaring vocal.

Law Years; Bass is revolutionary here. My concept of music history and who’s who is always a bit fuzzy. I don’t hold details like that in my brain very well. But this has a little bit of Mingus, some Ellington and something else? Bill Evans? It’s classy but incredibly dirty. Such perfect reciprocity with the drums. Of course, I know that Ornette Coleman is a sax player. But the trumpet player sounds just like him too. I’ll have to look this up afterwards. I’m not aware if Coleman played trumpet at the same level as the sax but it has got to be the same person. Except, I’ve heard trumpet and sax at the same time. Of course, those sounded like written lines that could be played by 'anyone'. It’s the improvisation parts on trumpet that sound exactly like ideas coleman would have on sax.

Drum solo. Every drummer since this time must have just lifted the vocabulary from this record. What he’s doing sounds like 99% of drum solos I’ve ever heard, but this feels like it’s close to the original source material, if not directly it.

Speaking of, ‘The Jungle is a skyscraper’ begins with an extended drum solo that is pure imagination. Then back to swinging. God, I should know where Coleman falls in relation to Coltrane. But off the top of my head, I do not. I’m going to say coleman comes before Coltrane. This is where Jody would point to a GIANT picture of a disapproving Miles Davis he kept on his studio wall and say something like "Miles is not pleased with you." I know, I know. 

I hear a lot of the same thoughts but Coltrane sounds more like a ‘roughed’ up Coleman. So, how did he rough it up if he didn’t already hear it somewhere? The trumpet player here is different. And that must be Coleman on sax growling/screaming into it as he plays. Visceral Carnage.

Each song is over before I can even process what I’m hearing. I wanted to just listen and be taken away but it keeps re-engaging my brain. Then the metacognitive kicks in and I want to examine what these hooks are. How they are grabbing me? Where are they sticking? How hard are they pulling?

School Work; Currently, the hooks are embedded deep in the adrenal glands, releasing adrenaline in massive quantities. Quickened breath. Acute sense of shift in vibration. The bass is responsible. Existing in a difficult to define space between “as forward as possible in one pocket” and “as far back in the next one”. Somehow existing outside all of time and space. I wonder if this is called school work because it consists of little ‘exercises’? The sax solo sounds like a series of small technical workouts vs. the stream of consciousness flavor of previous breaks.

Country Town Blues; One thing I’m noticing these days with masterworks such as these; If you really focus your attention, you can hear every note. Every idea is crystal clear. Even if there are several thoughts happening at once, the perfect counterpoint created by total consensus supersedes any Fuxian theories transcending instead to a driving conduit of pure energy. But each phrase is full of intent and purpose and without approximation. Crystal clear signal from Outerspace.

A translation of universal vibration in the same way an antenna can pick signals out of the air and convert them to sound, so are these musicians communing with a higher plane and translating the physical information back to us via music. This is coaxium. Unrefined. Pure energy. This is the data inside of an optical undersea cable. A blurring flood of bundled information to be decoded on site. ?Refined quickly before it can explode. 

This is the light of a long dead supernova, reaching through eons of space to trigger the aurora borealis in your soul. 

This is one of my favorite performances available online from Jody (he’s the one on piano). There are moments of transcendentalism that still spark my core every time I listen to it. Go listen to at least the first 10 minutes to get your tits completely blown off. [LINK]

Dismemberment Plan - Emergency & I

Dismemberment Plan
Emergency & I
1999

Why am I writing about this record? [LINK]

This suggestion was sent to me by a 'new, old' acquaintance. I have an amazing anecdote about this friend, but that will have to wait for another time. So, let's just jump right in! It starts off aggressively saccharine in a weird jane’s addiction kind of way. Around the middle of the first track ‘Life of POssibilities,’ there is a change in texture that hints there might be something more to come. The bass transforms into a flapping tire and stays there, fluctuating on the edge of intonation in a pleasant way.

Track 2, “Memory Machine” - immediately detours from any kind of pandering pop with a delicious crystalline structure of guitar noises, distortion and a perfectly placed organ that is often the secret ingredient in a sound like this. And again, at the end, this structure is pushed to its limit with a mantra of driving madness.

By Track 3 - “What Do You Want Me To Say?” I think I understand what to expect from the sound of this record. Typical late 90’s alternative rock melodic hooks dressed up with an aggressive garage punk aesthetic. Notice I did NOT say ‘pop-punk’ because it isn’t exactly punk rock by rhythmic or format definition. But there is a gritty, reckless approach to the arrangements that are dripping with an authentic desire to distance themselves from the established vocabulary of pop-rebel music.

Each track seems to start with an invitation to get comfortable. The melodies are cushy, the guitars and warm and the lyrics are just off-kilter enough to hold your attention. But then as the songs unfold, a collection of ‘other sounds’ begin to invade the space until at some point during a bridge or outro, you find yourself completely encased within a chrysalis of cacophony. Brief respites of this theme such as ‘The Jitters’ only serve to build a stronger more cohesive structure as this precedes ‘I Love A Magician’, which starts out directly in high gear.

There is an element of using competing instrument ‘noises’ as ‘percussion’. That is, less attention is paid to the tonality and harmony of individual parts than is to how they fit together in a rhythmic puzzle. This can be seen in other major avenues of thought emerging around this time from places like Omaha/Saddle Creek and in particular, I’m thinking of a band like Cursive.

I can also see slight parallels with Dubstep which would not emerge for another 10 years or so. Mainly I’m thinking of how noise and distortion are used in polyrhythmic combinations to create undeniable grooves.

‘You Are Invited’ begins with the kind of tension I’ve come to expect from this album already. An almost 80’s drum machine loop punctuated by a single Casio keyboard sound on every other & of 4. This creates a rhythm that is easy to bob your head along to, but unless you are paying attention that little ‘catch’ keeps you on your toes. A swirl of ambiance threatens to overflow into more of that catchy chaos, but this track stays reserved except for a straight-produced pop bridge. For me, the payoff was not here. I could have done without the middle section.

I know that the term ‘emo’ is a trigger word. I’ve seen analyses of the genre that place it’s origins back in the ’80s and there are internet rumors that this style of music still exists today. For me, ‘emo’ became part of the ‘consciousness of music’ sometime around 2000. While I know that there is nothing more dangerous for a critic to do than mislabel any band emo. I’m going to say that this band could be prototypical of the style.

I just did a quick Wikipedia search for a list of emo bands and I see this one is on there. So I feel relatively safe saying that. However, also on this list are Death Cab and Weezer. Both of which I have heard many passionate and near-violent arguments over when it concerns the label of ‘emo’.

It doesn’t matter. I probably should have left the whole emo thing out of it. It’s good music, that’s all. ‘Gyroscope’ has a shimmering vocal effect that made me stop everything and just listen. That’s all I really want out of music, anyway. Do something that forces me to listen. I'm more than willing to give any music my full attention. But only rarely does something DEMAND my attention. And this little vocal effect does just that. Beautiful.

‘The City’ has a vocal line that Brendon Urie would be proud of. ‘Girl O’ Clock’ sounds a little like the Rugburns trying to do Primus. Frantic Performance Art. I approve. And I know that a little record from 1999 is desperately seeking my approval in 2020. But I’m just saying that a track like this that has been around for 20 years and has less than half a million listens on Spotify is disappointing. It doesn’t look like people are digging into the depths of these cuts.

With a project like this, the last tracks are often the best. Remember this was released on a CD. [insert sarcastic description of what a CD is to assert snarky generational authority] - When a band like this hits the groove, They don’t put the ‘worst’ tracks towards the end as most people believe. Some bands did that just to fill out a record back in the days (surely they don’t do that anymore!) but the energy here from the beginning was one of uncorked inspiration. So the last songs are going to be the most adventurous as the band, rightly, assumes that anyone listening this far is on board with the premise and is therefore willing to follow them all the way down the rabbit hole.

As far as rabbit holes go, this band is elbow deep and one can imagine some kind of Napoleonic frenzy of activity below the surface. A fuzzy piranha nest of teeth and fur. When the hand is pulled back, the remaining stump of the arm brings sudden inspiration. Dismemberment Plan. Warm and fuzzy until it isn’t. And then it really isn’t.

So, I just recently learned that Napolean was once set upon by a thundering stampede of violent rabbits, forcing his small army to retreat in terror. Hence that incredibly clever 'Napoleonic frenzy' line. My God, I really am just that good!  Check it out!

The Boomswagglers - Bootleg Beginnings

The Boomswagglers Bootleg Beginnings from the Shack out Back - HillGrass BlueBilly Sessions 2011

Why am I'm writing about this album? [CLICK HERE]

Suggested by my cousin, who is currently wrapped fully in that beautiful twilight of hubris that often comes along with a strong jaw, surplus of musical talent, an intimidating vocabulary and a knack for philosophy. A dangerous combination. For the world or for himself, we have yet to see. I recognize his journey as well as seeing that he is closer to the heart of the matter at this point than I was at the same age. This suggestion of his is the case in point. I did not reach the particular guidepost which would allow me to appreciate or create this type of music until late in my 20’s. Also, he has already heard of Jeff Buckley, Conor Oberst, John Prine and Voltaire. I blame YouTube.

During one of the high points of my artist output, my friends and I played a style of music that we called ‘Goo Grass’. A kind of sticky, off-balance bluegrass. The kind of self-assured stylistic choice borne out of an inability to reach a more refined variation of the same sound.

Boomswagglers have moved beyond this primordial soup we called Goo-Grass into what I easily recognize as the mature archetype of our early experiments. Their choices here do not stem from a lack of ability but seem instead to flow from an uninhibited delight of folk-magic.

These are people who have mastered the elements of the hill music. The masters of this magic are free to wield it however they like. This is the dirt-sorcery. They call it HillGrass, BlueBilly music which speaks to the same lexiconic symbolism as our term, ‘Goo Grass’, but garners a more robust structure which is reflected perfectly in this music.

Unabashed loose ends. The record sounds purposefully jagged. Overblown mics. It exists in that narrow seam between naïveté and carelessness. Focus without Attention and Attention without Focus. Easy to do accidentally, difficult to maintain consistently.

‘Why I sleep Alone’ is a perfect concoction rusty production of traditional melodic anchors whiplashing into a jug band jubilee with an unstable and fluctuating tempo. It’s a little squishy, but not ‘Gooey’ This is the sound I was always looking for but never found. It pleases me greatly that this music exists.

If you’ve heard of Avett Brothers. This is what happens if those boys ever get hooked on the methamphetamines. And not in a Trampled-by-Turtles-manic-ethos kind of energy. The sitting-around-an-oil-lamp-in-the-freezing-winter-laughing-so-hard-one-of-your-tooths-falls-out kind of energy. Like the Avetts, Boomswagglers hang vivid contemporary narratives and modern imagery on the hooks of old gospel, country and bluegrass standards. However, If the Avetts are defined by INTIMACY then Boomswagglers are IMMEDIACY. It is an immediacy that is starkly defined by the splintery nature of the recording and reinforced by the name of the band, the record and marketing in toto. Everything about the package tells you to expect something raw, seedy and untamed.

“Jim & Jack” is a profanity-laced blue ballad laid over the bones of Johnny Cash’s ‘A Boy Named Sue’ - Or it could be an ‘R’ rated Ray Stevens song. One is forced to immediately consider whether the rawness and lewdness is meant to be comical or poignant. I believe it’s a bit of both. ‘Mornin’ Pills’ threatens to honestly confront the listener with a serious expression and ‘Wilco Blues’ continues this theme of the earnest confessional in a convincing and fulfilling way.

The final track threw me a little. ‘Run You Down’ starts out with a very upfront kik and guitar in direct contrast with the rest of the record which was very vocal-heavy. At first, I was confused by the drastic change in sound and feared it was a change in production style. Perhaps they were going to lift the curtain and show us a traditionally produced track? But then the vocals came in, still overloaded but buried way back in the back. Scooping the middle out of everything and preserving the continuity of the record as a whole while introducing a small element of shape to the dynamics at the very end. It’s easy to miss that this song seems to be about the singer running a woman over with his car over because she was in love with another man.

Despite the dark themes and contemplative turn towards the end, there is an obvious tongue-planted-firmly-in-cheek approach to the entire endeavor. This often comes as a necessity with production like this because I believe the artist compensates for the inherent balance that the listener needs to appreciate it. The listener's mind must be framed to accept that this is an ‘off the cuff’, ‘work with what we have’, ‘just fucking around’, ‘one-take’ kind of production. The easiest way to do that is to begin with a spat of ‘novelty’ sounding songs that stomp the boots and then turn ever so slightly to face the listener and say ‘can I be real with you for a moment?’. It makes for an enjoyable and powerful moment. Not to belabor the Avett connection but 4 Thieves gone gets right to the heart of this in terms of how production choices affect listener engagement. That record begins with a very raw seedy track that would be at home on this Boomswaggler record and then immediately turns to face the listener and becomes very sincere. Boomswagglers wait just a bit longer and when they do turn to face you, their face is still a bit in the shadow.

If you allow your ears to acclimate to the piercing atmosphere of this record, a lot of depth can be found. From how the percussion and bass get laid into the mix or the flangy/ping-pongy ethereal curtain behind ‘Wilco Blues’ is especially beautiful.

I didn’t do any research so for all I know this is a ‘joke’ band of some kind made up of superheroes. It wouldn’t surprise me. The songwriting is on point, the performances are essentially flawless, and the production is not near as sloppy as it pretends to be. The total effect is that I believe this music is not only completely authentic but also authentically complete. It sounds like 2 or 3 guys and there may have been overdubs, but if you told me it was actually recorded in an open-air shack by a couple of dudes with a 4track, 2 mics, a woodstove and too much beer. I would not doubt you for a second.


That is all that matters.

To hear what I was doing around this same time, check this LINK which is as close as I could get to the aforementioned 'Goo Grass'. Check out my cousin's fledgling journey down this same jagged path HERE

It's Been A Minute

Continuing the cycle of overextending myself, getting burned out, rising from the ashes as some intoxicated Pheonix to do it all over again I have now returned to this nest of half-thoughts and philosophical introspection disguised as innocent and rambling blog posts.

Last I spent any real time here I was trying to listen to all the new music put out by everyone in the world during a single year. Yeah, it went about as you would expect, but you can explore past posts to see what survived. I'd like to try that again someday. But Believe it or not, there is more music created than can ever be listened to. You can never hear it all. Isn't that strange? In a world where all the music is available, we'll never hear it all.

I am writing to you in the midst of the global crisis of my lifetime. The COVID-19 pandemic. We have been isolated inside our houses for weeks now and there is no clear end in sight. Despite the magic of the internet and constant interactivity over social media and text, there is a real crushing sense of disconnection beginning to set in. Phone calls and Facebook can not replace casual conversation that takes place over coffee, face to face, in a chance meeting or as part of your routine mundane social patterns. There is no exposure to strangers or random encounters with that person who will never see again but has something to say that speaks right to your heart. And everyone is dying.

At least it seems that way. I haven't had any directly related COVID deaths in my life at this point, but celebrities and musicians are dropping like flies and a couple of recent events got me reminiscing on the connections and relationships I've been honored enough to cultivate during my life.

John Prine died this week of COVID. Obviously, such a tremendous loss and I was given cause to examine my relationship with his music. As a budding songwriter, I obviously was exposed to and listened to his work but It took a casual face to face interaction with a dear friend of mine to really drive the power of his songs home to me. It was on Sunday's that my friend Jon (different Jon) would get together and play guitars in my basement in Nebraska. He was of my dad's generation and as we took turns playing songs back and forth he would often play old folk and bluegrass covers. Many of which were the first I had heard them. Without fail he would play a Prine tune that I wasn't familiar with and the power was so potent that it stood out from everything else we were doing. If it wasn't for my friend Jon I may have never truly learned to appreciate Prine.

I also lost a long time friend to cancer this week. The combination of the two events led to different trains of thought but they both met in the same place. My friends are pretty great! I'm not a very communicative person. I don't call a lot, I don't text a lot. I often let friendships lapse for months or even years. But my friends. always seem to still be there when we do reconnect. As if no time has passed. I think this is a special bond and I'm happy to have more than a few.

When I think back to the impact my friends have had on my life, I almost always and immediately go to music. Not just playing music but also listening to it. I surely discovered much great music on my own, but those occasions where someone shared with me a special treasure that they knew about are powerful moments.

Sitting in my friend Chris' garage on two metal folding chairs. A boombox in between us on a milk crate. We light a joint and smoke it down while he plays for me Badmotorfinger for the first time in my life. Unforgettable and transitory.

My friend Mike and I, rummaging through his dad's CD collection to find all the ones that mike had heard the 'F' word on. He said 'check this one out' and puts in NiN Downward Spiral. Yeah, I heard the 'F' word on there for sure and we giggled our stupid little heads off, but I also heard something else. Something that cracked open the veil of perception as cleaning as any hit of LSD or religious epiphany. Taking that entire stack of CDs back to my house and listening to them one by one in headphones on my mom's Boombox/CD player. The sound of 'Once' by Pearl Jam fading in. My first listen through of TEN still burned in my memory and more visceral to me now than the memory of losing my virginity.

Moving to Nebraska and making friends that had been neck-deep in the birth of the Saddle Creek/Omaha music scene. And here's me, having never heard of Conor Oberst, Bright Eyes, Cursive or any of it. Having this treasure trove of experience dumped at my feet as common knowledge was one of the most humbling moments of my life.

The kid who passed me a primus cassette tape in 7th grade. This might have saved my life.

The girl who spelled her name with numbers who passed a cassette mix-tape of all her favorite punk bands. I wish I could find that tape. A firehose introduction to Black Flag, Prong, Minor Threat, Green Jelly and the like. Monumental shifts of perception that still define who I am to this very second. It is the people I associate with and the often the ones who became the best of friends that have turned me onto some of my favorite bands. Music that, in turn, sculpted large parts of my world-view, aesthetics, and personality.

As I sat thinking of these things, staring at a political argument I was having with another friend who has turned me onto some great music, I began wondering what was really important here. I put out a call on my Facebook wall for my friends to comment with a record they think I might have never heard. I'll be listening to these as they come in and write a short post on my initial reactions and see where that takes us.