Sinatra & Jobim: A Collaboration of Musical Greats

Looking forward to giving this listening party on Sinatra & Jobim on Monday, October 17. Hear selections from their two collaborations and other songs that give a broader context to the recordings. Discover the stories behind some of the tunes, including the role of a young Candice Bergen in Jobim’s “Bonita.” Learn some of the history of Bossa Nova and Sinatra’s surprising role in its early development. Get an insider’s view of recording sessions that had the atmosphere of intimate party-concerts—with an audience that included Vanessa Redgrave, George Plimpton, Mia Farrow, and Quincy Jones. And dig into the mystery of an album that was never released and the rarest 8-track tape of all time.

Monday, October 17 

6 pm

Landa Library

233 Bushnell Ave

San Antonio

Concern - Misfortune

Drone music for a rainy, quiet Monday on a deserted campus during spring break. An interesting project I just discovered this morning, called Concern. This is from the most recent release, "Misfortune," which was created entirely with a box harp and field recordings.

"The fundamental link between all Concern releases is the strict use of acoustic instruments (and field recordings) as source sounds, meaning no electronic instruments or signal generators were used.... The initial box harp sounds on Misfortune were recorded in two house basements, then broadcast from car stereo speakers and re-recorded in several hospital parking garages in Portland, Oregon. There are also field recordings from public locations, specifically the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula in Brussels and an indoor public market in Hamburg. The intent of utilizing the hospital parking garages was to explore and document the reaction of the box harp tones in thematically relevant and acoustically unique spaces. These underground, concrete garages are not only ideal locations as guerrilla reverberation chambers, but also contain deep feelings of veiled emergency, quiet desperation, and anonymous suffering, especially late at night."

 The quote comes from Rick Moody's interview with Gordon Ashworth, the guy behind concern.

Willie Nelson Concert

Oh that any of us are still as creative, energetic and fun at 80 years old as Willie Nelson. We really, really enjoyed his concert last night.

Whatever fears I had of seeing some sad old-timer playing beyond his years were immediately dispelled by the rousing opening version of “Whiskey River” and a swinging “Still Is Still Moving to Me.” The guy is truly amazing. His voice sounded great (better than on one of his recent albums) and his always underrated guitar playing was terrific: warm and beautiful at times, as on Django Reinhardt's "Nuages", or hard-driving and almost atonal on “Night Life.” What many people fail to realize is that beneath Willie Nelson the cartoon-figure cultural icon there percolates a musical mind of the highest order. His understanding of jazz, popular music, country, rock, folk, Mexican and Latin music and other genres is tremendous. As someone who loves all kinds of music, I find it invigorating. Tell me what living performer in a 90-minute show could weave together in a seamless whole Django, Irving Berlin, Hoagy Carmichael, Hank Williams, Bob Wills, Carl Perkins, Kris Kristofferson, shit-kicking country, gospel hymns, rockabilly, two songs originally performed with Snoop Dog, and, of course, the tremendous Willie Nelson catalog? His moody, samba-country arrangement of Berlin’s “Let’s Face the Music and Dance” may have been the highlight of the evening. (Even better than the studio version attached.) I don’t think I had ever really paid attention to Berlin’s opening line, “There may trouble ahead,” but last night when Willie growled out the words, I had images of outlaws riding into Mexico floating through my head, and the darker atmosphere of the song really came out.

The musicianship last night was top notch. In addition to Willie, the line-up included the key members of the classic “Family” line-up that produced all of those great outlaw country records in the early and mid-70s: his sister Bobbie on piano, Paul (The Devil) English on drums and percussion, and Mickey Raphael, who may now be the greatest living harmonica player, with all due respect to Toots Thielemans at 91. These people have been playing together off and on for about 40 years (Willie and English actually first played together in 1955!), and they know each other so well, that they can follow one another with great skill and ease from a hell-raising country song to a haunting version of "Gerogia." But the key to everything may be the young stud on stand-up bass whose super groovy, driving rhythm kept the old folks on their toes. I don’t know the guy’s name, but he made his presence felt from the first moment of the night. There was also a young drummer/percussionist who switched off and on with English, who suffered a minor stroke in 2010. The Devil would play drums on some of the old hits and more mellow pieces, and the young drummer took over on the swinging, upbeat songs. When not on drums, they both added some terrific percussion, especially English. He may not be able to pound the skins on every tune any more, but he’s a wise old dog with a great ability to add the perfect spice to a song - a chilling set of chimes during “Georgia,” or tasteful maracas during one of the Mexican-flavored works.

The other thing that impressed me was that many of the best songs of the evening were from Willie’s last two albums, Let’s Face the Music and Dance (2013) and Heroes (2012). He certainly played some of his classics (including my two favorites – “Me and Paul” and “Funny How time Slips Away”) and his big hits, which had the crowd singing along, but in no way was this some kind of retrospective show. He’s still making good music and having fun performing it live. Another great part of last night was hearing this group play some of those awful, syrupy Willie songs from the early 80s ("Always on My Mind" "To All the Girls I've Loved") that I've always hated. Suddenly, with new stripped-down arrangements, they didn't sound half bad. Also, thinking back on it, I can't believe how much material the guy crammed into 90 minutes. They never took a break, and he (sadly) didn't chatter much between songs. They just played. And played a lot.

In the end, the best part of the night may have just been watching an 80 year old musical artist with so much joie de vivre, who obviously still loves what he’s doing, does it pretty damn well, and seems to really enjoy playing for people. And they enjoy him. There was a great communal spirit in the auditorium last night. And my oh my how the ladies do love this old fart. At one point, Alexandra and I thought we were at a Tom Jones concert, as not one, not two, but three women climbed on stage to give the guy a kiss or throw him a bandana or try to hug him. And one of them was probably in her 20s or 30s! Yes, Willie sing-talks through some of his songs, but he did it wisely and to good effect, turning a potential weakness into a strength. And I’m sure his guitar skills are not the same at 80 as they were at 40. But all in all, the guy was pretty impressive. My only regret last night was that I hadn’t gone to see Willie sooner in my life, so I could have experienced him more in concert. If we could, we would go again this evening. Alexandra and I both really enjoyed ourselves.

Your Gold Teeth I & II

Will try to actually post something this weekend. For now, more summer music...

Steely Dan and their pair of "Gold Teeth" songs. A good example, I think, of a band in transition.

"Your Gold Teeth," from their second album, Countdown to Ecstasy (1973), features the Dan's first extended excursion into a more jazz-inflected sound. The driving groove is still propelled, however, by the Latin percussion and heavier rock guitar common in their first albums, with definite hints at "Do It Again," the big hit from their debut LP the year before.



"Your Gold Teeth II" comes from the band's fourth album, Katy Lied (1975), the center point of the band's career (or at least the first part: 1972-1980), which captures both the grungier rock sound of their earlier work ("Black Friday") and the more sophisticated and often elegant jazz tones of the future ("Doctor Wu"). The musical journey Fagen and Becker embark on here will ultimately lead them to the soundscape of Aja, their masterpiece from 1977.



Enjoy.

Bruce Cockburn on a Coastal Road in Maine

The music I most enjoyed while driving along the coast of Maine on our journey last week. . . .

Bruce Cockburn's great 1976 album, In the Falling Dark. This is the title cut.



and the lights lie tumbled out like gems
the moon is nothing but a toothless grin
floating out on the evening wind
the smell of sweat and lube oil pervades the night
and the rush of life in flight at the speed of light

a million footsteps whispering
a guitar sounds -- some voices sing
smoke on the breeze -- eyes that sting
far in the east a yellow cloud bank climbs
stretching away to be part of tomorrow's time.

earthbound while everything expands
so many grains of sand
slipping from hand to hand
catching the light and falling into dark
the world fades out like an overheard remark
in the falling dark.

light pours from a million radiant lives
off of kids and dogs and the hard-shelled husbands and wives
all that glory shining around and we're all caught taking a dive
and all the beasts of the hills around shout, "such a waste!
don't you know that from the first to the last we're all one in the gift of Grace!"

(Ottawa 9/3/76)

The Song Stuck in My Head When I Woke Up This Morning

Fats Waller & His Rhythm
"I'm Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter"

Recorded 11/07/1934.



Music by Fred Ahlert, lyrics by Roy Turk

I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter,
And make believe it came from you,
I'm gonna right words oh, so sweet,
They're gonna knock me off my feet,
A lot of kisses on the bottom,
I'll be glad I got 'em!

I'm gonna smile and say, "I hope you're feeling better,"
And close with love the way you do;
I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter,
And make believe it came from you!

Gonna smile and say, "I hope you're feeling better,"
And close with love the way you do;
I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter,
And make believe, make believe, make believe it came from you!

Cole Porter Birthday Bash

Cole Porter was born on June 9, 1891. Some songs to celebrate his 118th birthday. Enjoy.








Cole Porter Playlist (12 songs)



"Easy to Love"
Billie Holiday

"It's Alright With Me"
Tom Waits

"Get Out of Town"
Caetano Veloso

"I've Got You Under My Skin"
Frank Sinatra

"Don't Fence Me In"
David Byrne

"Love for Sale"
Cannonball Adderley & Miles Davis

"Well, Did You Evah!"
Iggy Pop & Debbie Harry

"Just One of Those things"
Ella Fitzgerald

"Night and Day"
Fred Astaire

"Every Time We Say Goodbye"
John Coltrane

"So in Love"
Caetano Veloso

"I Get a Kick Out of You"
Frank Sinatra

Brooklyn Meets the Česká republika

Bang on a Can All Stars & Iva Bittová
"Bolis Me Lasko" from Elida
23.6.2006 Palace Akropolis, Prague

A Gershwin Friday: How Long Has This Been Going On?

"How Long Has This Been Going On?" was originally written by the Gershwins as a duet in the 1927 Broadway musical Smarty, which had a book by Robert Benchley of the Algonquin Round Table and New Yorker fame (and grandfather of Jaws novelist Peter Benchley.) After unsuccessful previews in Philadelphia, the show was rewritten (Benchley departed), revised, and renamed, and "How Long Has This Been going On?" was dropped. The reconfigured show, now called Funny Face, wound up being another huge hit for the brothers Gershwin and for brother and sister stars Fred and Adele Astaire.

As it turns out, though, Florenz Zeigfeld liked "How Long Has This Been Going On?," and it reappeared a few months later in his production of Rosalie, which already had compositions by two other famous songwriters: composer Sigmund Romberg and lyricist P.G. Wodehouse. Under pressure to finish the show in time, Romberg suggested that the Gershwins write half of the show, which they did. To fit "How Long" into the new show, Ira changed the lyrics a bit, transforming it from a duet to a solo piece.

When MGM made a film version of Funny Face in 1957, they dropped all but four of the original songs from the Broadway production.* But they brought back "How Long Has This Been Going On?" after it had been dropped from the show 30 years earlier.

Audrey Hepburn sings the solo version in the film, and while she may not have a great or powerful voice, she was . . . Audrey Hepburn. It's one of the more poignant songs by the Gershwins and I think she captures the wonder, longing and sadness well.



And here's a beautiful instrumental version by the great tenor saxophonist Ben Webster, with Kenny Drew on Piano, the awesome (and awesomely named) Danish double bass player Niels-Henning Ørsted Pedersen, and Alex Riel on Drums.



* It wasn't unusual for Hollywood to butcher Broadway musicals. When MGM turned Rosalie into a film in 1937, they weren't satisfied with music by hacks like George and Ira Gershwin or Romberg and Wodehouse. They dropped ALL of the songs and brought in Cole Porter to do entirely new ones.

[CORRECTION: In my original post, I said Robert Benchley was Peter Benchley's father. He was his grandfather.]

Friday Afternoon

"Funk #49"
James Gang - Rides Again

Sleep all day, out all night
I know where you're goin'
I don't think that's actin' right
You don't think it's showin'

Jumpin' up, fallin' down
Don't misunderstand me
You don't think that I know your plan
What you tryin' to hand me?

Out all night, sleep all day
I know what you're doin'
If you're gonna act that way
I think there's trouble brewin'

In the Shadow of Hank Willams

One of those strange times when unseen forces mysteriously converge in one direction. . .

I added Hank Williams to my iPod a few days ago. Within 48 hours, I stumbled across several examples of the love and devotion many famous musicians feel for the man.

It started with an article on Leonard Cohen:

"When I wrote about Hank Williams 'A hundred floors above me in the tower of song', it's not some kind of inverse modesty. I know where Hank Williams stands in the history of popular song. Your Cheatin' Heart, songs like that, are sublime, in his own tradition, and I feel myself a very minor writer."

Then I discovered that Neil Young owned one of Hank's guitars:

"I've got a Hank Williams' guitar . . . an old Martin D-28. . . . It's always great when someone understands what this is that they're holding, who understands the effect Hank Williams had on all of us. They are sort of awestruck by being in the presence of anything that he touched---to the point that to actually play his instrument elevates them to another level."

(This morning, knowing how important Hank was to Bob Dylan, I did a little searching on the internet and came across this passage from his memoir, Chronicles:

"When I hear Hank sing, all movement ceases. The slightest whisper seems sacrilege. In time, I became aware that in Hank's recorded songs were the archetype rules of poetic songwriting. The architectural forms are like marble pillars, and they had to be there.")

My favorite story, though, comes from Waylon Jennings' autobiography. As background: The great country singer Faron Young first came to Nashville in 1952, along with his 19 year-old girl friend, Billie Jean Jones. Here's Waylon:

''Everything I did in Nashville, anything anyone did, was measured against Hank's long, lanky shadow. . . .

I wanted to be like him. We all did. Even his contemporaries held Hank in awe. Faron Young brought Billie Jean . . . to town for the first time. She was young and beautiful, and Hank liked her immediately. He took a loaded gun and pointed it to Faron's temple, cocked it, and said, 'Boy, I love that woman. Now you can either give her to me or I'm going to kill you.'

''Faron sat there and thought it over for a minute. 'Wouldn't that be great? To be killed by Hank Williams!' ''

(Hank married Billie Jean two months later.)



"I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"
(Hank Williams)

Hear that lonesome whippoorwill,
He sounds too blue to fly.
The midnight train is whining low,
I'm so lonesome I could cry.

I've never seen a night so long,
When time goes crawling by.
The moon just went behind the clouds
To hide its face and cry.

Did you ever see a robin weep,
When leaves began to die?
Like me, he's lost the will to live,
I'm so lonesome I could cry.

The silence of a falling star
Lights up a purple sky.
And as I wonder where you are,
I'm so lonesome I could cry.

Jean the Birdman

David Sylvian & Robert Fripp
from the album The First Day

Hat's off to Roy Harper John Schertzer, for introducing me to David Sylvian.

I've been waiting for years to hear a Buddhist cowboy song. . . Albeit, this is a winged cowboy. But that's nothing too unusual.

Unfortunately, the video doesn't really go with the words. I'd skip the pictures (interesting as they may be) and go with the text on this one.



He gambles on the saddle
He's pulling on the mane
He thrashes at the horse's back
Ambition is a bloody game

Horse doesn't want to jump
The river looks too wide
Well, he faces every hurdle
With a nervous state of mind

Stay with me, breathe deeply,
Take three paces back,
Turn and make a full attack

The gods are laughing
And they're tugging at the reins
But he's taken to his wings
And they hit the bank

Heaven may stone him,
But Jean the Birdman pulls it off (x2)

His finger's on the trigger
His eye is on the clock
He doesn't give the game away
And quickly fires the bullets off

Six hearts cut short
Still dreaming they're alive
Blown 'round in dusty circles
Like an absent state of mind

Who hunter? Who victim?
God love America
He surely doesn't love him

Hitching out of nowhere
Lines of traffic knee-deep
A chance to stave the morning off
And get some sleep

Heaven may stone him,
But Jean the Birdman pulls it off (x2)

He wears a crucifix
His mother left to him
It's wrapped in chains around his heart
Rusted and wafer thin

Don't count on luck son,
All the angels sing
Don't need to check a weather vane
We all know what tomorrow brings

Life is a cattle farm
Coyotes with the mules
Life is a bullring
For taking risks and flouting rules

Who needs a safety net
The world is open wide
Just look out for the card sharks
And the danger signs

Heaven may stone him,
But Jean the Birdman pulls it off (x4)

A Gershwin Friday: Stairway To Heaven

Gershwin - by Warhol

Fifty years before Led Zeppelin tried their hand at the concept, George Gershwin composed "I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise" for George White's Scandals of 1922. The lyrics were by his brother Ira (under the pseudonym Arthur Francis) and Buddy DeSylva, with whom George had written his first complete musical, the very successful La La Lucille, in 1919.

Probably the most famous version of "I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise" is the one from the great 1951 musical, An American in Paris, starring Gene Kelly and Oscar Levant, who had been Gershwin's friend and musical interpreter. Georges Guétary performs the song amidst one of those amazing MGM sets, with pink stairs that light up as he ascends, a bevy of beautiful show girls, and Cocteau-like women forming giant, surreal candelabras. The song as originally performed in George White's Scandals of 1922 also involved an elaborate stairway set.



Though Guétary's version is my favorite - love the French intro - musical channeler Rufus Wainwright recently gave the song a good whirl in Martin Scorsese's 2004 film, The Aviator. Here's Rufus performing the song on Conan O'Brien.



Neither of these versions actually contains the complete song. Guétary skips the first half of the first verse, which I like, and which Wainwright nails, especially on the soundtrack. And both men skip the last half of the original.

As far as I'm aware, there is no known version by Jimmy Page and Robert Plant.

"I'll Build a Stairway to Paradise"
(George Gershwin, Ira Gershwin, Buddy DeSylva)

All you preachers
Who delight in panning the dancing teachers,
Let me tell you there are a lot of features
Of the dance that carry you through
The gates of Hea-ven.

It's madness
To be always sitting around in sadness,
When you could be learning the steps of gladness.
You'll be happy when you can do
Just six or seven;

Begin today!
You'll find it nice,
The quickest way to paradise.
When you practice,
Here's the thing to do,
Simply say as you go...

I'll build a stairway to Paradise
With a new step every day!
I'm going to get there at any price;
Stand aside, I'm on my way!
I've got the blues
And up above it's so fair.
Shoes! Go on and carry me there!
I'll build a stairway to Paradise
With a new step ev'ry day.

Ev'ry new step
Helps a bit ; but any old kind of two step,
Does as well. It don't matter what step you step,
If you work it into your soul
You'll get to Heaven.

Get bu-sy ;
Dance with Maud the countess, or just plain Lizzy:
Dance until you're blue in the face and dizzy.
When you've learn'd to dance in your sleep
You're sure to win out.

In time you'll get Saint Vitus dance,
Which beats the latest thing from France.
Take no chances on this Paradise ;
Let me give you advice.

I'll build a stairway to Paradise
With a new step every day!
I'm going to get there at any price;
Stand aside, I'm on my way!
I've got the blues
And up above it's so fair.
Shoes! Go on and carry me there!
I'll build a stairway to Paradise
With a new step ev'ry day.

Panic in Detroit

No, I'm not talking about the Big 3 automakers asking for handouts in Washington.

I'm talking Bowie. 1973. Aladdin Sane.

And I'm talking Mick Ronson.



Was Ronson the most underrated guitarist of rock and roll?

Unnamed Corporate Music Magazine lists him at #40 on their 50 Greatest Guitarists of All Time, with "Panic in Detroit" as his "Most Representative Song."

All I know is that I have to be careful listening to this one on my iPod, because I start singing loudly and leaping into air guitar- no matter where I am.

Love Ronson at the end of the song...

"Panic in Detroit"
(Bowie)

He looked a lot like Che Guevara, drove a diesel van
Kept his gun in quiet seclusion, such a humble man
The only survivor of the National People's Gang

Panic in Detroit,
Asked for an autograph
Wanted to stay home,
I wish someone would phone
Panic in Detroit

He laughed at accidental sirens that broke the evening gloom
The police had warned of repercussions
They followed none too soon
A trickle of strangers were all that were left alive

Panic in Detroit,
I asked for an autograph
He wanted to stay home,
I wish someone would phone
Panic in Detroit

Putting on some clothes, I made my way to school
And found my teacher crouching in his overalls
I screamed and ran to smash my favourite slot machine
And jumped the silent cars that slept at traffic lights

Having scored a trillion dollars, made a run back home
Found him slumped across the table. A gun and me alone
I ran to the window. Looked for a plane or two

Panic in Detroit,
He'd left me an autograph
"Let me collect dust."
I wish someone would phone
Panic in Detroit
Panic in Detroit
Panic in Detroit

Discovery

It is actually impossible to walk through mid-town Manhattan listening to Count Basie & His Orchestra play "Honeysuckle Rose" (their first recording, 1937) and not develop a jaunty stroll or break into a smile for everyone around you.

Count Basie + Lester Young + Fats Waller = A Force Greater Than You Know.



From: The Complete Decca Recordings

Interestingly, Basie and the boys recorded "Honeysuckle Rose" at Decca Studios, just 20 blocks north of where I was strolling this morning. Can music have a ghost? Can it linger in the streets of New York City for 71 years, waiting for someone to walk by who's listening to it? Is the music always present and we just hear it when we pay enough attention? Was my iPod even necessary?

America's First Black President

Barack Obama's election victory on November 4, 2008 was cool and all, but he's actually not the first black President of the United States. Here's the original:



The Prez, Lester Young, discusses his economic platform in "Pennies from Heaven," from a September 1950 Jazz at the Philharmonic film session.

He's joined by his cabinet:

Hank Jones - piano
Ray Brown - bass
Buddy Rich - drums
Bill Harris - trombone

Then, the "First Lady of Song," Ella Fitzgerald scats with the group on "Blues for Greasy," along with Harry "Sweets" Edison on trumpet and Flip Phillips on tenor sax.

The film was directed by Gjon Mili, who also did the greatest jazz film of all time, Jammin' the Blues (1944).

Lester will always be my favorite president.

The Song Stuck in My Head When I Woke Up This Morning

Bloody television commercials. I'm still struggling spiritually with those Cadillac ads using "Start" by The Jam. Though why it would surprise me at this point is a good question.

I've finally accepted that all of the "we're rock and roll rebels!" of the Sixties have sold out, starting with Eric Clapton's Michelob ad back in 1986. But to hear The Clash and The Jam used to sell things on TV . . . My frail punk-era heart can hardly stand it.

And so, one effect of being subjected to Kapitalism's insidious psychological warfare is to start the day with "Start" stuck in my head.

The song comes from The Jam's great 1980 album, Sound Affects, which - as you can tell - showed the influence of the Beatles (the bassline is straight out of George Harrison's "Taxman") and, according to All Music Guide, reflected singer-songwriter Paul Weller's "recent readings of Blake and Shelley (who was quoted on the sleeve), but more specifically Geoffrey Ash, whose Camelot and the Vision of Albion made a strong impression."

Did I miss the Blake and Shelley connection when I was 16? I don't remember that part.

Here's The Jam. . . .



It's not important for you to know my name -
Nor I to know yours
If we communicate for two minutes only
It will be enough

For knowing that someone in this world
Feels as desperate as me -
And what you give is what you get.

It doesn't matter if we never meet again,
What we have said will always remain.
If we get through for two minutes only,
It will be a start!

For knowing that someone in this life,
Loves with a passion called hate
And what you give is what you get.

If I never ever see you -
If I never ever see you -
If I never ever see you - again.

And what you give is what you get!

It's a New Day

I can't help it - I like the new video from will.i.am.



My God, what's happening to me? I've never felt so emotional about the American political system. I get choked up watching videos or seeing people on TV.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after eight bloody years of George W. Bush and Dick Cheney.

I know the cynical stuff will return in time, but for now, I guess I'm happy to drink the kool-aid.

A Change Is Gonna Come

The Rev. Al Green tells the story.

Waiting...

A soundtrack.