Last Post Post Script

I will have to bust myself here - As I was writing the last post about Panorama, I was writing about how some of the mixes on the CD sounded different, whole guitar parts and key keyboard licks missing and how Warners sucked for putting out such a shitty mix and someone needed to go back and fix all of this - when I discovered the left channel is out on my equalizer. I was / am not getting anything in the left channel - which totally sucks.

However, I did discover it before posting a potentially embarrassing post requiring some quick back tracking and "Owhattajerkhiyam" chanting.

Having said that though, I still think the Cars catalog needs some of the care a re-issue on Rhino would give.

Cough* Cough* Cough*

What's that sound? That's the Dallas Stars beginning their choke act for the post season a month early. 2 - 7 - 1 in their last 10? The only thing to watch for now is how far they can slide for the honors of either Detroit or San Jose whacking them in the first round. I will be shocked if they can hold onto the 5th spot in the West, especially with Minnesota, Calgary and Colorado all in a dogfight in the Northwest. But they may get a break facing Phoenix and L.A. on the road.

Warner Music Still Sucks

Although I applaud Waners for reissuing titles in the HDCD format, I just purchased the Cars Panorama [my first and still favorite] again and I find Warners is still just issuing a cheapo one fold picture and song list insert card. Not even including the lyric sheet included in the vinyl version?

Look, we've all read lost Ben Orr, what would be wrong with talking to the remaining members and uber-producer of the day Roy Thomas Baker [also known for his work on the early Queen catalog including A Night At the Opera] and get some of the tales of the songs and making the record before it's too late. Re-issue these CDs with the splash of a major catalog artists like Fleetwood fucking Mac. Sure the Cars only made 6 albums in a decade, but at least four of those albums were some of the best selling of the decade [The Cars, Candy-O, Shake It Up, Heartbeat City]. Let's show some respect.

Why the Black Crowes Still Matter

If a band has been around as long as the Black Crowes have been in the publics awareness, its hard to get excited about a new release. Bands staring their 20th anniversary in the face don't get buzz unless they are Rolling Stone's favorite bands like U2 and R.E.M. Now granted the Crowes have not helped their own cause over the least decade, releasing some of their poorer selling [which is not to say bad, but they did not get any significant push on radio or VH1] albums, going through a series of personnel changes and taking two years off to allow Chris Robinson [vocals] to make babies with Kate Hudson and do a couple solo records and brother Rich [guitars extraordinare] to do his own solo record, Paper, which I continue to praise as high as I praise Keith Richards' albums. And so the Crowes survive in the mainstream on the strength of their first couple of records on 'Classic Rock' radio. The Black Crowes have become like an old pair of jeans that sits in the bottom of the drawer waiting for you to put them on again. But there is an underground of fans, not unlike the Deadheads and Phish freaks who wait for tours and albums who know what the band is still capable of.

And so with little public fanfare, other than a scandal in which the bastion of musical tastemaking, Maxim Magazine, rated a whole album on the single they received causing scandal on Blogs over the world... to this fanfare the Crowes have quietly released Warpaint.

The 2008 version with drummer Steve Gorman and bassist Sven Pipien back in the fold and adding ex North Mississippi All Star Luther Dickinson on guitars and Andy MacDougall on keyboards is not the Black Crowes you recall from Shake Your Money Maker or The Southern Harmony and Musical Companion. This is no longer the struttin' stompin' starin' it cold Crowes of 1990. Warpaint finds the Crowes leaning more in the direction of the Rolling Stones Exile on Main Street for guidance than the Faces or Humble Pie. And that's a good thing.

The Crowes always know how to kick off an album and Warpaint kicks off with the first single, Goodbye Daughters of the Revolution, a kind of slower country cousin to SH&MC's Sting Me. This sets the tone of the album immediately, not too hard edged, but with some bite and the seemingly effortlessly funky groove the Crowes always had a total mastery over. Instantly recognizable as the Crowes, too. Walk Believer Walk is a harder edged seemingly one chord blues stomp [think the Stones covering Fred McDowell's You Got to Move on Sticky Fingers] with its low boiling riff and great slide work. What is Chris singing about? I don't know. Something about black shadows and demons coming and devils singing and tasting the poison in your mouth. It takes me about a dozen listens to get to understand Chris without a lyric sheet. late in the song you're aware of MacDougall's Hammond organ adding coloring chords to the swirl, something he will do wonderfully all through the record. After the bombast of Walk, we get the nice little ballad Oh Josephine, a song that would not sound out of place in The Band's catalog alongside Acadian Driftwood. Again, MacDougall adds the colors tickling along on the piano for most of the song and again some tasteful organ work on the end. And here I thought it would be replacing the almost always tasty work of Eddie Harsch. Evergreen opens with some heavy Neil Young like chords, but the band pulls back into the pocket on the verses and groove hard in the chorus; features on of the most disjointed guitar solos on a Crowes record. Wee Who See the Deep opens with the insistent riff that sounds like Chicago's 25 or 6 to 4 meets Humble Pie's Stone Cold Fever, chorus reminiscent of Greasy Grass River from Lions. Locust Street is a lilting mandolin lead ballad, a more upbeat Seeing Things without that classics's go for the ceiling chorus. Moving On Down the Line opens with a psychedelic vibe similar to Zep's No Quarter on mushrooms, then breaks into a nice easy groove close to Hendrix's Rainy Day / Still Raining set from Electric Ladyland. Wounded Bird is a slice of vintage Crowes, more subdued than say Struttin' Blues or Stare It Cold, but a nice piece of good old Rock and Roll to be sure. A cover of Rev. Charlie Jackson's God's Got It follows, again a one chord church stomp-and-clap with some great slide work back in the mix. In the great tradition of also knowing how to close an album, There's Gold In Them Hills opens with some sad slow piano chords and Gorman on the slowest groove this side of Ray Charles and Chris' most world weary voice... snatches of vocals "Broken my heart, diamonds and gold, through scandals and madness and cold / All I have left is this grey in my beard... it's a one way ticket down a river of lies..." Whoa Mule finishes led by a pump organ, harmonica and percussion and more great slide work pumping a hopeful tune Chris throwing on a tongue in cheek back hills accent to sing a song of perseverance and hope.

Don't get me wrong, I love the bombast, volume and ballsiness of the Crowes first three albums - yet again I advise you to get Amorica if you missed it - but this is not necessarily that band any longer. What the brothers Robinson have done is put out an album much more contemporary than many people would have thought possible. This album is really not far off the Robert Plant/ Allison Krause project, by which I mean the boys follow where the song leads them more than trying to drive home the point or the groove through a wall of Marshall stacks.

4.0 stars - check it out.

For some reason Saturday, I got the scene in my head from High Fidelity. This is not unusual, I often walk around mumbling things to myself and of course I say things that only make ME smile. Like going around saying "Nee!" or "’Tis but scratch!" or "Albatross! Get it on a stick!"

But for some reason, all I got was that scene from High Fidelity where the ex calls Rob. "Is this Charlie Nicholson?" "Are you in or are you out, Rob?" Then of course he goes to the party and sees how awful she is and hits her for the hook: "Why did you break up with me...?" "HA! I fucking KNEW it!"

So Sunday morning at the ungodly hour of 10:30, my answering machine picks up, and I don’t recognize the voice but I hear "Don’t freak out, blah blah blah, numbers." In my fog, I think it’s my boss calling me to see if I can come in and cover, which means something has gone terribly terribly wrong at work, so I shuffle over to La Machine and press the button.

HO - LY SHIT! It’s my old old old [as in long time, though I think he is older by a few months] Mark Lederman. Those of who have read either Blog know how I conveniently blame my juvenile delinquency on Mark... apparently he ran into my mother at a store yesterday and got the number, ’call me back...’ I will call him later - of course with the caveat - "I would have called sooner, but I had to freak out first."

WAIT - the story gets better. So I finally get up after a long night of yelling at the Playstation goalie who can’t stop crap and get my coffee and my Mom calls. She got a message from the hinterlands looking for a good number for me... from Renee Russell. I don’t post much on Renee, but since she is not here, I will conveniently lay a lot of the blame for my sexual shortcomings and frustrations on her. I don’t know if I want to really call her back - she left here on my bad side, and I don’t really have a lot of people on my bad side... still, I am a pretty forgiving person and I will probably call. What a wussy!

NOW I am waiting for the day the line from Dogma gets in my head: "Beautiful naked blonde women don’t just fall from the sky!!!!"

So traffic was bad on the way into work today – no idea why it would be on a Thursday, even with Spring Break going on. So I used my cell phone to call into work so I would not be late. So I get through the SNAFU on 183 and get moving north on 121 and now I have some time to kill, so I decide to stop into Arby’s for a bite. And since I have the time, I am going to go inside and sit down and eat.

Friends, I cannot tell you the last time I sat and ate a meal – well, you know what I mean – inside a fast food restaurant. Maybe last time I was in Nashville and we went to Mickey – Ds between roller hockey matches. Now of course, it is 230 in the afternoon, way after the lunch rushes so it’s pretty empty – a man and his young son, maybe 6 – 8 and one other guy. So I get my sandwich and I sit down and I am just watching what’s going on. There’s one manager in a sickly yellow green short sleeve leaving as I am ordering, balding right down the middle of his head and the stuff that’s left looks like Julio Fuentez on Sanford and Son, flying all over the place. There’s the other manager, graying, short, cropped hair and graying moustache and smart pressed light blue Oxford and tie walking around checking things to make sure they’re set for the evening – napkins, bags for take outs and stuff – I overhear him tell the other man there, the trainee I guess “if you have any questions you tell me and I’ll tell you what’s right…” The trainee looks about 26, and he’s in a short sleeved blue work shirt and tie and he looks a bit uncomfortable back there behind the counter – maybe it’s his first week or maybe this is a new store for him. I wonder if he’s gone to college and this is the best he can do right out of the gate. I’ll have to ask my Dad how people get into restaurant management – he used to manage McDonald’s in West Virginia and here in Texas. And Red Lobster. And I think Taco Bell for a short time. There’s a girl way in the back there running the meat slicer and toasting the buns, some blonde hair pinned back up on the top of her head over the visor band in the back. She looks fairly young, early 20s. I just wonder if she’s working her way through school or doing some part time to help with the house payment or whatever…

Then I leave and I am walking out to the car in the warm bright sunshine of a great Texas almost spring day – next door the Arby’s the car wash is jammed to overflowing after the deluge the last couple of days. The colors and the newly cleaned cars all seem so bright in real sunlight – I guess it’s been too long since I wasn’t rushing somewhere to notice, other than watching the green beginning to pop up in my back yard – but not the front or the side.

I’ve also noticed a peace of mind lately. Is it odd that one should notice when the clutter seems to drop out of one’s mind, all the rush of the day and worrying about this and that and the other? But sometime over the last three or four months, I’ve just reached a point where I am at peace in my own skin, like all the regrets and mistakes I’ve brooded on for the last 20 years have just finally melted away. If this is some part / benefit of getting past 40, I can appreciate getting older. Of course, the ringing in my ears gets louder when there’s no clutter in my mind to drown that all out, but I put on some vinyl and convert it and catch up on some reading and I don’t notice it as much.

Then, of course there are calls from people lost to the ether for years. A friend told me that that is also some part of making peace with your past and making changes. I don’t know about that yet – I did catch up with Renee but I missed Mark. Maybe it’s also partially due to finishing the projects I’d had going – the hard drive, some re-organizing – and getting past the arrival of Marty and the kids.

Anyway, spring is coming – book yourself some time to just sit and people watch, maybe in the park or on the patio at whatever coffee place or dining establishment you can just sit and observe. Of course at a park you can marvel at the greens bursting forth…close up the laptops and the cell phones and put down the Crackberry and see what's going on in the world around you.

For those keeping score at home:

I finally finished clearing and cataloging the interesting stuff from the big hard drive filling fiasco 2007. Deleting the C-Rap, Celtic noise, over the top pop and Emo that does not appeal to me [This means you Justin Timberlake!] and wall of hardcore noise [except a couple Slayers] the total comes out to about 900 titles for about 70 gigs.

Interesting things? A blues guy named Bill Perry, a superb Professor Longhair title [Crawfish Fiesta, 1980 I think on Alligator and one for 'Fess's last], a five star collection of Fats Domino, a surprisingly interesting box set of Dr. Hook [with and without the Medicine Show]...

Tried, but No, Thanks: No Doubt, Enya, Alecia Keys, Kelly Clarkson, Offspring...

Somewhere in the madness behind my eyes, I got into my head last night that I needed to load several double albums onto my little MP3 player for perusing when the work slows down later in the evening as the clock creeps toward 1100 PM CST/CDT. Well, mostly double albums. Remember when double albums were a statement? Or live albums? Now, every Thom, Dick and Marilyn is putting out a 60 minute CD and saying absolutely nothing for 45 of them. But for some reason, I got an itch to put on several – Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life, XTC’s English Settlement, the Clash’s ever perfect London Calling…

But the first one of these extended play platters up is the oddity of this group [though I do own two other 3 sided Lps – the Utopia album from 1982 with Hammer in My Heart, Bad Little Actress, Libertine, etc. and Johnny Winter’s Second Winter] – Joe Jackson’s 1986 opus Big World.

First of all it is recorded live – though the audience is rarely heard. Not unlike a lot of Frank Zappa’s material, Joe’s engineer knows how to put the mike close enough to keep out a lot of extraneous noise. Second, this is Joe’s greatest band – percussion, guitars, backing vocals. Not that I don’t live the three piece snarl of albums like Look Sharp! And I’m the Man, [or the beauty of the guitar-less Night and Day] but like one Elvis Costello, Jackson decided he needed a bigger canvas and more colors with which to paint his compositions. Never mind that like Peter Townshend, Jackson would get caught up in his own pompousness [see Will Power], this is Jackson at his peak. I would compare it to Costello’s Trust, which is not my favorite [Get Happy!!! Is] but probably the peak, for me, of Costello’s songwriting and work with the Attractions.

The influences here spring out – the definite Asian sound of [It’s A] Big World and Shanghai Sky [which also features some of the best and most beautiful piano on the album], the American sounds of Wild West, the funkiness of the “hit” Right and Wrong, cocktail lounge jazz of Fifty Dollar Love Affair and We Can't Live Together, the New Orleans funky blues of Soul Kiss, the surf guitars that dominate The Jet Set, tangos on Tango Atlantico [duh!], the wistfulness with a chorused 80s guitar of My Hometown and wrapping it up in the raga inspired Man on the Street.

Is this just another ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’ album, like Paul Simon’s Graceland? Well, in a way – Jackson takes a look at the places he’s going and has been, where Simon talks a lot about characters and their experiences on Graceland. Jackson seems to really be taking the journey from Hong Kong harbor to Berlin to the wild west of America to the hometowns of the world and trying to decide if it's really a big world or really how small the planet really is and where he and we [the understood 'you and me' we and also the human race We] all fit together in it. The musical and lyrical journey is one to undertake - at least once or twice a year. Check it out again!