John Zorn; The Dovells

The Secret Museum:
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

John Zorn & His
Radical Jewish Music
It is hard to talk about John Zorn’s music since it defies all accepted borders and has encompassed almost every stylistic trend of the last 50 years. He is a musician (saxophonist), record label owner (Tzadik), artistic director (The Stone performing space in N.Y.C.), besides being one of America’s most prolific composers, appearing on over 400 recordings.

Zorn became better known starting in 1985 for his release titled “The Big Gundown,” where he adapted the music of filmmaker Ennio Morricone into his anything-goes style of avant/jazz that helped solidify his stature as one of New York City’s most respected “downtown” artists. The word Downtown here is not just where this collective group of musicians lived, but is a term that became the catch phrase for all things experimental. He also has a large discography of film soundtrack recordings, recorded prolifically in the early ’90s with his noise/metal/punk/jazz outfits called Naked City and Painkiller.

Up until 1994, I would not have called myself a big Zorn fan. Naked City/Painkiller were so extreme at times that even though you could occasionally marvel at its sheer power and complexity, I never seemed to find the right time in the day when its punishing moments could be listened to for more than a brief period. Zorn released Kristallnacht in 1992 and it revitalized his interest in exploring and contributing to his Jewish roots. He founded his record label Tzadik (righteous man) in 1995 and decided to write one hundred songs for his latest band called Masada. They incorporated elements of Klezmer, Eastern European folk music and classical string parts to create a new kind of Sephardic chamber jazz sound. The Masada String Trio and The Bar Kohkba Sextet have also recorded these songs and in 2004, Zorn wrote three hundred new compositions for a series called “The Book of Angels.” “The Book of Angels” is now up to 13 released volumes of music, with Uri Caine, Erik Friedlander and Marc Ribot being just some of the musicians that have recorded these new compositions. This extended period of quality music encompassing everything from the Masada quartets through the 13 volumes “The of Book of Angels” is easily Zorn’s most consistently enjoyable work for me. Volume 13 was released in January 2010 and is titled “Mycale.” It continues Zorn’s unpredictable ways with 33 minutes of music performed a capella by four female vocalists. I still find that some releases from Zorn outside of the Masada/Angels series are too ambitious for my tastes in music. He released a three CD metal/free jazz play in 2006 (“Moonchild/Astronome/Heliogabalus”) that had spontaneous sounds coming from vocalist Mike Patton instead of words. John was awarded a MacArthur Foundation grant of $500,000 in 2006 and his muse continues to take him far away from following any one established path as a writer and performer.

His music is consistently more melodic now than in the past, and his strength as an original writer remains unchanged. With his Masada/Book of Angels work, Zorn has taken strands of classical, jazz and traditional music and interwoven them with his modern influences to create something truly unique. Now it doesn’t matter what time of the day it is, I find myself listening to these various string trios, Klezmer and jazz infused releases. The radical part of John Zorn is not politically based in pro or anti-Zionist messages, but in his ability to synthesize the musical roots of the Jewish Diaspora into a modern songbook that can be reinterpreted by other musicians in the years to come.

“I’m not interested in politics, but in people, music, and knowing about human feelings.” – John Zorn.

Recommended listening:
Bar Kohkba—“The Circle Maker”
Masada String Trio—“50th Birthday Celebration”
Cracow Klezmer Band—“Balan; The Book of Angels vol. 5”

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net


The Dovells: You Can’t Sit Down
It’s commonly accepted that the First Dark Age of Rock resulted from the following factors: Little Richard found Jesus, Elvis got drafted, The Killer married his 13-year-old cousin, Buddy crashed, Chuck violated the Mann Act, Eddie Cochran crashed. When we look at the Billboard Number One singles from 1960-61, it appears that the rot has set in: Teen Angel, Theme From A Summer Place, Wonderland By Night, a little Lawrence Welk. But see who else is here: Everly Brothers, The Drifters, Ray Charles, Maurice Williams, The Shirelles, Del Shannon, Ernie K-Doe, plus Orbison, Gary U.S. Bonds, Bobby Lewis, Dion, The Marvelettes. Not too shabby, all considered. 1962 is almost as good: Joey Dee, Gene Chandler, Bruce Channel, Little Eva, Ray Charles again, The Four Seasons, Crystals, Tornados. OK, so Bobby Vinton, Connie Francis, and Neil Sedaka are also in there, but there’ve been worse horrors inflicted by the record-buying public. 1963: Steve Lawrence (who I like), The Rooftop Singers, Bobby Vinton (again), and The Singing Nun on the one hand—The Four Seasons (right on), Ruby and The Romantics, The Essex, Chiffons, Jimmy Soul, Lesley Gore, The Tymes, Stevie Wonder, Jan & Dean, The Fireballs with Jimmy Gilmer, and The Angels on the other.

Now, keeping in mind that Year Zero 1964 gave us Number Ones from Vinton (twice! – that’s enough now), Dean Martin, and Lorne Greene (!), the hard facts emerge (and remember, we’ve only been looking at songs that hit the top of the charts; the following rockers enjoyed single success during the same time period- Barrett Strong, Charlie Rich, Miracles, Clarence “Frog Man” Henry, Rosie & The Originals, Freddie Cannon, Sam Cooke, Orlons, Isley Brothers, Booker T and The MG’s, Clyde McPhatter, and many more. Also, this was a time when independent labels and regional sounds reigned supreme- there was always something interesting cooking, and competing with the majors, in the Great Melting Pot): a) there’s always been crap in the Billboard charts, b) Rock Music was alive and well during the early 1960s, and c) we didn’t need the Beatles to save us after all.

The Dovells from West Philadelphia reached Number Two in the fall of 1961 with “Bristol Stomp”: whomping kick drum and snare, ride cymbal, tambourine, one guitar, three doo-wopping Overbrook High grads in back, and the tremendously tremulous white-soul lead vocal of 19 year-old Leonard Borisoff. It’s simple, sloppy, careening and pounding—in other words, Rock and Roll. A few minor hits followed over the next two years, mostly cash-in attempts at exploiting the next teen dance sensation (Jitterbug, The New Continental, Hully Gully, Froog, The Monkey), though outside of Philadelphia, none came close to reaching the heights of “Bristol Stomp.” With one exception.

If any further evidence is required that Rock and Roll was not only still alive in early summer 1963 but kicking arse royally, The Dovells deliver the goods with resolute and stunning conviction. “You Can’t Sit Down” leaps from the speakers with quick drum-roll, organ wash, handclaps and a frantic Borisoff declaiming what you gotta do:

Hey pretty baby,
Don’t you hear the drummer thumpin’?
You gotta shake it like a crazy,
’Cause the band is sayin’ something.
Everybody is a-jumpin’,
You gotta slop, bop, flip-flop,
Hip-hop, all around.

Wild organ, fast and hard drums, out of control tenor sax—this was the sound of East Coast Young America. Jerry Gross, Arnie Silver and Mike Freda join in:

You can’t sit down, you can’t sit down
You gotta move, move, move, around and ’round.
You gotta fly, fly, fly, way off the ground.
They’re puttin’ down, a crazy sound.
No, no, you can’t sit down,
You gotta make it, break it,
Shake it all around.
You gotta slop, bop, flip-flop,
Hip-hop, never stop.

Equally crazed “Betty In Bermudas/Dance The Froog” would follow later that summer, then “Stop Monkeyin’ Around/No No No,” but by December, Borisoff was gone (he’ll return in ’65 with the Northern Soul classic “1-2-3”) and the hits dried up. That same month, on the other side of the country, Portland’s Kingsmen would provide one last brilliant gasp of pre-invasion U.S. chart action before everything changed forever.

-Michael Mooney
Loftholdingswood.blogspot.com


Rock Action
Last month’s interviewees !!The!!Bang!!Gang!! will be playing at Seco Pearl on Saturday, March 27. This could be their last performance for a while. All-new material is promised. Manby’s Head open. Both groups will have their latest releases available for purchase. Admission: $5.00- $15.00.

Seco Pearl: 590 Hondo-Seco Road, Arroyo Seco, 7 p.m. (approximately, call first to confirm) 575-776-1225.

The following week, Caffé Tazza presents electricLuLuland. The artist formerly known as Les Lokey will be presenting ROCKSHOW on Saturday, April 3, in preparation for her upcoming “provocaTOUR.” Admission: $3.00- $10.00.

Caffé Tazza: 122 Kit Carson Road, Taos, 6-9 p.m., 575-758-8706.

From The Archives (Part Two)- Doll By Doll: Gypsy Blood

The Secret Museum
Jim Webb & Michael Mooney


Doll By Doll: Gypsy Blood
(Automatic Records LP, 1979; Rhino Records CD, 2007)

"I see the bars of your prison when you cry"

Released in the early morning of the Thatcher era, Gypsy Blood is a towering monument to the failure of Punk. Working loosely within the Classic Rock idiom, on this recording (their second LP, following the speed-fuelled sonic claustrophobia of Remember- a relentless, dualistic masterpiece of horror and beauty) Doll By Doll blended elements of pub-rock, doo-wop, folk, country, psychedelia, gospel, early-60s pop melodrama, and the Velvet Underground, added their own unique guitar ferocity (albeit tempered here) and a late-70s dynamic production sheen (think Born To Run or Bat Out Of Hell). The result is a singular work of breathtaking magnificence, capped by the sweeping power of Jackie Leven's vocals.

This record simply sounds like no other. From the 1-2 radio-friendly punch of Teenage Lightning and the title track, through the majestic Stripshow, The Human Face and Highland Rain, and finally the unsettled and unsettling Endgame and When A Man Dies, Doll By Doll achieve that rarest of aims: absolute timelessness. The album could have been recorded in 1969, or last week. That it evokes a Britain (and Europe) about to disappear forever is the only clue to Gypsy Blood's moment in time.

Roundly ignored upon release (the album was un-issued in the US), Gypsy Blood's failure signaled the coming musical backslide- Spandau Ballet were just around the corner- that the English record buying public willingly accepted. Nearly 30 years later, it still stands alone, reflective of a time when music took chances and changed lives.
-Michael Mooney



"The Devil of Dreams is Black"

Why is this record so different and important that you should immediately pop round the local shop to order a copy? If I rave about how brilliant Gypsy Blood is, I risk becoming just another fanatic trumpeting his favorite group. But there is truly something special about Doll By Doll, a UK rock band from the late 70s/early 80s led by singer, guitarist and main writer Jackie Leven. Two guitars, bass and drums were the basic components, playing in a straightforward rock style that we’ve all heard before. They are musically tight as a group and play with passion. The magic for me, however, lies in two things which elevate this band from hundreds of others who suddenly appeared on the late 70s scene.

Jackie Leven’s vocals are unique, and will have you on the edge of your seat with the passage of each song, wondering where he will soar to next. I won’t compare him to Roy Orbison, or other celestial-voiced wonders, because, while he has taken on many influences (as Gypsies do), what comes out of his mouth is ALL Leven ALL the time. Jackie’s range is unbelievable, and he has the gift of a classic saloon singer for putting across real depth and emotion.

The other aspect of this band that is so enjoyable to me is the subject matter. These are no run-of-the-mill tunes about whiskey, women, or life on the road. Leven writes from an idiosyncratic perspective that makes his lyrics so much more interesting than anyone else’s. He will walk that lonely street and, by the time he reaches the next corner, you will feel that his world and yours are one. Stripshow is one of the most powerful songs I have ever heard in over 40 years of listening to music. On The Human Face, Jackie sings about knowing why Jesus wept (for the next 30 years he’ll continue to unravel that particular mystery in his solo career). You may at times find yourself close to weeping, too, at the beauty of this music.

Jackie's like an insomniac bus driver, cruising the late-night streets. His passengers are the tired, the hurt and the truth seekers. He lets you know you're not alone, and the common bonds we all share of joy and despair are illuminated by him in a way that reminds us of the beauty of everyday life. No matter how you're feeling when you get on his bus, by the time you arrive at your stop, life has become a more interesting ride.

1979 brought us a lot of great new music, but, in my opinion, Gypsy Blood battles The Clash's London Calling for best LP honors. I vote for Gypsy Blood. Get this CD if you like rock music that has power and intensity yet travels down a different path. You will not be disappointed.
-Jim Webb

From The Archives (Part 1)

The Secret Museum

Horse Fly
Taos, NM
October 23, 2008
A musical dialogue between Jim Webb and Michael Mooney.

Mike-
Ritchie Blackmore of Deep Purple: "Back in the late Sixties, there were few organists who could play like Jon. We shared the same taste in music. We loved Vanilla Fudge - they were our heroes. They used to play London's Speakeasy and all the hippies used to go there to hang out - Clapton, The Beatles - everybody went there to pose. According to legend, the talk of the town during that period was Jimi Hendrix, but that's not true. It was Vanilla Fudge. They played eight-minute songs, with dynamics. People said, "What the hell's going on here? How come it's not three minutes?" Timmy Bogert, their bassist, was amazing. The whole group was ahead of its time. So, initially we wanted to be a Vanilla Fudge clone."

-Guitar World Interview, Feb. 1991.
Quote hi-jacked from the The Highway Star: The Deep Purple Official Site
-Jim Webb


Jim-
...thus began the long, slow decline of British Rock. Actually, Blackmore's full of crap. According to VF's official website, they didn't get to the UK 'til Sept. '69, well past their prime, and never played the Speakeasy. The Beatles by then were pretty much finished. If Clapton was there to "pose", Ritchie's gotta be off by 2 years. Blind Faith had debuted earlier that year; Eric's perm, robes, and poses were long gone. I remember seeing Purple on the Steve Allen show; had to be Summer/Fall '68. Their sound at the time was closer to Fudge than after Gillan arrived in 1969. Ergo too much cider for Ritchie…
-Michael Mooney


Mike-
That Blackmore quote comes from the VF official website, too. I agree that Ritchie’s wine/hash/Mandrax intake has burnt out memory cells. I did think it was interesting that Blackmore, the self-proclaimed inventor of Heavy Rock, actually gave another band credit for influencing him.

I think we should seriously consider writing a newspaper column for CD buyers to help them on their way toward building a collection. There are a lot of 15 to 30 year olds that missed the whole golden age (1966-74) of Rock, and possibly the best of the 80s and 90s, who need a reference guide that will tell them exactly what releases to stay away from as well as which gems to track down. We could either do it in a Siskel & Ebert format where we both give our thoughts on a title, or you could take certain artists and I’ll grab others… Chapters on “sacred cows” where we trash the conventional wisdom of greatness (Van Morrison, etc.), but also make sure that they hear about Gypsy Blood, Mellow Candle, and hundreds of other “lost” classics. You and I have invested too much time in music the last 40+ years to keep this information inside our heads. I am so tired of reading Amazon reviews that turn out to be worthless, or bloggers who are way off the mark. We need to act. This is our calling, something we can leave behind for the future youth. Besides the esoteric and lost releases, we will lay down the truth on “major” acts. Deep Purple’s best is NOT Machine Head or Made in Japan. We can also list the 10 best tracks from any band (for the i-Tunes generation). I have told you before how much time I’ve wasted buying a record and not liking a group- only to find out 10, 20, sometimes 30 years later that I DO like them, I just bought the wrong title(s)…

We have it in our heads, and just need to put it down on paper.
-Jim Webb


Jim-
Let's also keep in mind that certain assumptions can be made regarding the older fans whom may already be familiar with (at least some of) this. We won’t intentionally insult anyone’s intelligence, while reminding the reader that this is primarily a beginner’s guide.
-Michael Mooney

Rod Stewart; !The!Bang!Gang!

The Secret Museum

Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Rod Stewart: I Used To Love Him, But It’s All Over Now
Some people think that the real Rod Stewart had disappeared by 1980; others say it was in the 1990s, and some long-time fans were even waiting until 2000 or so for his return before giving up. I have proof; it is now undeniable that Rod perished somewhere in Oprah Winfrey Land in 2009. His fatal illness began several years ago when his “Great American Songbook” box-set was one of the worst releases in 2005, and his latest studio release, “Soulbook,” has now confirmed his demise. How did one of the greatest vocalists of our generation turn into a two-bit karaoke stylist that has his heroes like Sam Cooke and Otis Redding turning in their graves?

Rod started off as a harmonica playing fan of The Rolling Stones in the early ’60s when they were churning out souped-up Rhythm and Blues before he became known as the fashionably dressing “Rod the Mod” around 1965. Rock music was the ticket out of working class London for a lot of British youths, and with his distinctively raspy vocals, Stewart had plenty of people clamoring to play with him. After stints with Long John Baldry and singing lead with The Jeff Beck Group, he wound up joining the ashes of The Small Faces in a new band called—The Faces. This period from 1969 to 1974 was when Stewart made his mark as an outstanding vocalist and song writer, crafting such classics as “Gasoline Alley,” “Maggie May,” “Mandolin Wind,” and “You Wear it Well.” When David Bowie was in full flower as an androgynous looking Alien in 1973, Rod happily put on his own shiny, satin Glam-rocker outfits and wore as much makeup as any female who paid to see him.

In 1978, Rod surprised no one by doing a late cannon ball into the Disco waters with “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy,” before joining the MTV Generation in 1984 with a synthpop Duran Duran style song/video entitled “Some Guys Have All the Luck.” He kept selling concert tickets through the years, but it wasn’t until 2002 that he dropped all pretense of having anything new to say and starting mining old songs from the ’30s and ’40s. Nothing wrong with those classic tunes at all, but Stewart adds nothing to their luster and comes across as desperate to keep selling more product. I just hope The Great American Songbook Vol. 5 isn’t coming our way anytime soon. His “Soulbook” release last year was unfortunately a continuation of a marketing plan gone artistically awry. His dull arrangements of Motown/Soul classics, sung with little passion, are all packaged for a certain middle aged demographic and, like his recent cover of “I Fooled Around and Fell in Love,” are just not needed. Rod Stewart used to be a great rock and roll singer. Each year he’s walked a little further away from his roots and he’s been doing his “standards” act for so long now his only goal seems to be improving his Tony Bennett impersonation. The long rumored reunion tour with The Faces might be the only elixir that could bring him back from the dead.

It’s pretty obvious that a long time ago, the real Rod Stewart decided to simply give the people what they wanted. He won’t be the last musician to head down that road, but for him to wind up permanently living there is disappointing. I’d feel the same way about any talented artist who was content to mass produce the same item over and over again for Wal-Mart. Early in his career, he brilliantly took some hand-me-downs from Sam Cooke and The Stones and made them into a custom suit of Rhythm and Booze that only he could fit into. The rented tuxedo that he wears today, anyone could use. Why do I think there is a real Rod Stewart, an artist, somewhere underneath his still perfectly quaffed head of hair? Let’s go back to 1970 when he wrote a song called “Gasoline Alley” that was about his future. With his good looks, voice and stage presence, Rod knew that stardom wasn’t far away, but he also knew there would be a price to pay for that fame.

But if anything should happen and my plans go wrong
Should I stray to the house on the hill
Let it be known that my intentions were good
I’d be singing in my alley if I could
And if I’m going away and it’s my turn to go
Should the blood run cold in my veins
Just one favor I’d be askin’ of you
Don’t bury me here it’s too cold
Take me back; carry me back to Gasoline Alley where I started from
Take me back, won’t you carry me home down to Gasoline Alley where I started from

I could be wrong, maybe Rod didn’t perish last year. There’s always the slim chance that his sales have now totally blinded him and he’s just wandering around lost in Middle America. If you ever do run into him, ask him whatever happened to that old custom suit that he made for himself. If he claims he lost it a long time ago and has no idea where it is, tell him not to worry, he was the only guy it ever fit. One day, if he decides to go looking for it, I’m sure he’ll find it somewhere in that alley back home.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

An interview with !The!Bang!Gang!!
The Secret Museum has been on a mission lately to verify rumors that a thriving Rock music scene actually does exist in the area. The results appear, rather surprisingly, altogether positive. Unfortunately, the number of venues for Rock music remains limited. One group who came to our attention is !!The!!Bang!!Gang!! Comprising Karen Vargas-vocals and guitar, Spanky Golub-bass and Doan Wilson-drums, !!The!!Bang!!Gang!! deliver a lo-fi roar straight outta Olympia circa 1991. They have recently released a 14-song CD, on which now-departed guitarist Cullen Morris joins them. The following interview took place via email.

Your new CD !!Whatever!!Meinkampff!! has just been released. Why the extra ‘f’?

There are two extra “fs” actually, for emffasis. We like to come up with new ways of treating old words, because historically, that’s just always been the trend. We like the letter “f” a lot.

Assuming I won’t be referring anyone to your MySpace page (http://www.myspace.com/wearethebanggang), would you please provide a short history of !!The!!Bang!!Gang!!?

Well, it IS a short history actually. We’ve been playing together for two years. The first year it was just Karen and Spanky; the second year we decided to start selling timeshares in the cult. Past members include Richie Green, Julia Vanderburg, Cullen Morris and Scottie McKenzie.

Influences?

Janet Jackson, Mozart, Sacred Rats, Mick Collins, Throbbing Gristle, alcohol, Danger, Danger’s mom, Phil Lynott, Val Margolis, breasts, Donna Summer, Sdrawkcab Tebahpla, Anna Nicole, Giardia.

Most of your songs seemed designed to avoid any radio airplay whatsoever. Is that a reasonable inference?

No, it’s the other way around: most radio airplay has been designed to avoid us.

Who is Val Margolis?

Spanky’s dead ex-girlfriend.

What’s your opinion of the local music scene and how would you like to see it improved?

At this point, Seco Pearl is the only serious game in town for alternatives. We’ve seen some GREAT music there. We love Nina and the Seco Pearl! Taosound by the Post Office in town has a nice selection. There’s also a space called the Mandala Project on the bypass, but we haven’t played there YET. We’ve only ever tried to get ONE gig at a mainstream venue in Taos and they turned us down—probably because we’re too risky—but we’ve never really bothered with trying to get gigs in places like that because why spend time on people and things that aren’t willing to spend time on you? In these sort of situations you usually have to make it happen yourself, you can’t wait around for anyone else.

I.D.K.H.T.H.M.B.H. is one of your catchier songs. Why isn’t it on the record?

It’s on the next album, “World War Five, Get Down Make Love,” which will be done in a few minutes.

It stands for I Don’t Know How To Homologate My Bromide Habit, right?

Are you calling us spastic homos?? THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!

What happened to your guitarist?

Which one? We’ve burned through three so far.

Track 12 on your CD, Trinidad—what’s that all about?

Karen is a writer and last summer she went to an art symposium put on by the Colorado Arts Ranch called Sex and Sensibility, in Trinidad, Colorado, which, as you know, is the sex-change capital of the world. The song is sung in Spanish and it’s about her road trip there and meeting various artists and writers including Dr. Marcie Bowers, who performs the surgeries. It’s a corrido, of sorts.

At least one of you likes Roy Harper. Care to embellish?

If you have an album called “Stormcock,” how could we not be a big fan? Also, Roy Harper manifested Jimmy Page having sex with Aleister Crowley, so how can you NOT love that?

There’s a lot of drinking in your songs. Favorite whisky?

Doan and Karen are allergic to whiskey and Spanky is addicted to Jameson.

I’ve given your disc several listens. Interstate and Joan Doanut are my favorites. That’s not a question, obviously, but feel free to respond.

Joan Doanut is a super-loose, barely recognizable, rip-off of Dick Johnson by Pussy Galore. And it’s a super-loose, barely recognizable play on our drummer’s name. It’s a loving tribute to Doan who’s been holding up the other side of the bar at the Taos Inn for the last twelve years. “He’s the guy that everyone knows, he’s the guy that makes your nachos...” Interstate was written by Cullen Morris. Karen really liked the song and asked if we could cover it, so we did.

The hidden last cut on the CD—if it’s not called Soma Coma, it should be. So what’s it called?

It’s called Soma Coma.

!!Whatever!!Meinkampff!! is available at Taosound, Seco Pearl and through Tralalamedia.com.

-!!Michael!!Mooney!!

Manby’s Head / Thelonious Monk

The Secret Museum
Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

I’m Manby, Fly Me
Upon arrival in Taos some dozen years ago, I assumed that I would shortly encounter other forward/backward-thinking musicians with the shared intention of making a gigantic racket. This is an Art town after all, and where there’s Art there’s normally an accompanying healthy musical environment. Sadly—and in true Taos-as-contradiction fashion—this was not the case. There were (and still are), of course, a small number of bands who broke out of their respective garages long enough to play one (ware-) house party before disappearing again, but for the most part, what you see today featured in the bars and at the occasional summer music festival held true then: there is simply no evidence of authentic Rock and Roll to be found among the Jazzbos, jammy world-music poseurs and pseudo Country and Blues groups who cater to the local tourist crowd. Why is this, I wondered (I know a number of people hereabouts with exemplary tastes in music, folks who won’t hesitate to make the five-plus hour drive just to see Yo La Tengo play in Denver)? The obvious answer is that Rock doesn’t make money these days, it’s not propitious to the true Taos experience, it’s noisy and upsets the vacationers (Texans don’t like Rock? Since when?), it attracts an unpredictable audience—they don’t drink enough, they drink too much …

I’ve spoken to several local musicians and it’s true: the money’s in the safe bet, keep it mellow, encourage the two-step, sell those Bud Lights and margaritas.

“I find world music very disconcerting.”—Peter Greenberg

A Rock guitarist with an extensive pedigree—DMZ, The Customs, Lyres, Barrence Whitfield and The Savages—Peter Greenberg believes the Taos music scene lacks energy. When Peter moved here two years ago, he had no expectations of connecting with like-minded players. I first met him last June at Robin McLean’s Taosound record store. He was spinning obscure Garage Rock 45s for an audience of 12. Two weeks later we convened at Paul Reid’s house. A few songs were attempted: “Wild Thing,” maybe “Gloria,” maybe “Teenage Kicks,” I don’t remember. I hadn’t played guitar in years. It showed. An inauspicious start, to be sure, but there was something there.

“The kids are trying; they just lack the correct references.”—Paul Reid

Paul Reid is one of those bassists who make it look effortless. Trust me, it isn’t. He’s got that fluid approach that’s easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. Paul’s been around these parts for 15 years or so. He’s spent the past several keeping various skillful (and in my opinion, unrelieved) rootsy sorts grounded (the gigs pay), but his heart belongs to Power Pop. Close enough.

“It’s been an education on many different levels.”—Eric Whitlock

After a disastrous encounter with a thrash drummer—“I can play Anarchy in triple time.” No. You can’t—and one session with the talented but geographically-challenged Tom Trusnovic, we found Eric Whitlock on craigslist (!), and soon liberated him from a whingy numbers-in-their-name-type punk (lower case p) abomination (you’re welcome, Eric.)

Lineup complete, we commenced writing and rehearsal sessions. The results were documented in December at Jon Gold’s studio above Valdez. (Highly recommended. Taos is very lucky to have this guy.) If there’s a place for Rock in this complicated little town, we’ll find out eventually.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Manby’s Head:

http://www.myspace.com/manby39shead

Michael Mooney


Thelonious Monk: The Labeling of a Jazz Icon
It has been 27 years since the death of pianist/composer Thelonious Monk in 1982. He was never a fan of jazz-rock in the late ’60s and early ’70s, so I don’t think he would have found anything of interest in the smooth jazz movement that he’s missed since his passing.
Labels are something, though, that Monk knew all about. He has been credited in the 1940s with Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie, among others, as being a founder of the Be-Bop style of jazz. The Swing era was slowly giving way to a new sound that could be found uptown in Harlem, New York. Minton’s Playhouse was one of the few clubs that played this new music and Thelonious was the house piano player there. Monk has acknowledged earlier stride piano players like James P. Johnson and Art Tatum as influences, and loved Duke Ellington, but his notes and chords didn’t always follow their established patterns. He was called a lot of things early in his career; few were complimentary. Fake, fraud and charlatan were used to describe his unorthodox style of playing. It bothered him, but he just kept on writing new tunes in his bedroom as his reply. After he secured a recording contract with Blue Note records in 1947, things got a little better—he was now referred to as eccentric, mysterious and even mad. Monk was labeled for several different reasons; the swing era fans and critics didn’t understand what he was up to and simply claimed he couldn’t play. His record company was trying to push him as a strange artist to create added interest, and mostly succeeded because he was eventually known as Mad Monk, or The High Priest of Be-Bop. All of this is expertly written about in Robin D.G. Kelley’s new book, “Thelonious Monk—The Life and Times of an American Original.”

Kelley has spent the last 14 years researching and writing this biography with the indispensable help of the extended Monk family. A historical work that encompasses not only the Jim Crow South of North Carolina where Monk was born in 1917, but one that illuminates his music throughout one of the most tumultuous periods of American life. I found it fascinating to read how Monk began a long residency at a club called The Five Spot in Manhattan’s Lower East Side in 1957, which soon became the jazz center of the world. The Five Spot was a rundown writers’ and painters’ hangout where you could find Kerouac or Ginsberg rubbing elbows with DeKooning and Jackson Pollock. The Beats and the Abstract Impressionists loved jazz; it was “in the moment,” just like their work. The improvising jazz musician spontaneously heading off into a new direction and breaking established forms was something they were already familiar with.

Monk’s recorded legacy is detailed in this comprehensive book, from his first sides to his final composition. The most consistent criticism by others in the 1960s about Monk was that he didn’t write many new songs. Even though he became better known (including a Time magazine cover in ’64) and played to bigger crowds later in his career, the real diamonds he had created and polished as a composer were mostly from the 40s and 50s. All the various medical problems that plagued Thelonious throughout his lifetime are also described, as well as the medications and treatment he received. The curious may just want to read about him dancing around in circles like a whirling dervish, but Monk had a complex personality that is dealt with here in a straightforward way. Robin Kelley should be applauded for such a fine effort, and Monk fanatics will be in heaven with this new treasure trove of inside information on his life. If you are unfamiliar with his work, this is certainly an excellent place to start.

My favorite anecdote in the book occurred in December of 1971, when Monk and his wife Nellie went to see The Duke Ellington Orchestra at The Rainbow Grill in Rockefeller Center, New York City. The band was in full “swing” as Monk walked toward a table to sit down; Duke eyed him from the stage and immediately cut the band off in mid song and approached the mike. “Ladies and gentlemen, the baddest left hand in the history of jazz has just entered the room, Mr. Thelonious Monk.” Monk stood there smiling at Duke as the crowd gave him a long ovation. Thelonious had started taking piano lessons at the age of 11 in 1928. After 43 years of people telling Monk how he sounded, the great Duke Ellington had just given him his ultimate compliment. On this night, Thelonious Monk didn’t mind being labeled at all.

Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Survey results
Last month, we conducted a survey asking your preference for a local appearance. The votes are in: Taos wants The Black Angels (but you’re not getting them.)

The Fall; A Few Loose Ends

THE SECRET MUSEUM:

Ten CDs By The Fall You Should “Visit” Before You Die: A Luggage Seller’s Guide

Without any kind of guide or map, this would be quite a daunting journey, since there are currently 99 releases by The Fall to encounter when you include various compilations, studio and live CDs. The Fall are a rock band that were formed in Manchester, England, in 1976, and since their inception have consisted of songwriter/vocalist Mark E. Smith (who is from nearby Salford, an important distinction) and whoever else he lets play and drink with him. While the band’s sound does change significantly at times through the years with these shifting line-ups of musicians, here is a brief quote from Mr. Smith to clarify his position as the central cog in this revolving-door aspect of group membership. “If it’s me and your granny on bongos, it’s a Fall gig.” A small cottage industry on books about Mark Smith and The Fall has developed in the last few years, but none of them specifically tells you what stops are crucial for a successful musical pilgrimage—and what areas you can bypass. I will break down possible itineraries into two categories: essential sites and interesting side trips, with a disclaimer for places to avoid.

Essential Sites: The first five years of the band from 1977 to 1982 will comprise a good hunk, but certainly is not all of the important terrain that must be covered. “Live at The Witch Trials” is their first LP that was released in 1979 and has all of their classic ingredients. Ranting vocals from Smith combine with musician’s Bramah, Riley and Burns to ensure a guitar driven sound that was remarkably tight for the evolving punk rock landscape. Bassist Steve Hanley and guitarist Craig Scanlon enter in 1980 and in quick succession, “Grotesque (After the Gramme”), “Slates” and “Hex Enduction Hour” become a must-hear part of The Fall canon. The Hanley/Scanlon axis adds slashing guitar and bass to at-times venomous lyrics from Mark E. Smith (M.E.S.). “Totally Wired,” “N.W.R.A.” and “An Older Lover,” as well as “The Classical,” rank among the finest tracks they ever recorded. This period holds the essence of their organized cacophony that other bands have frequently imitated, but never succeeded in duplicating. That correct blend of riffs, minimalist freedom and bile could only be directed by one M.E.S.

Another era of the band that must be checked out is the 1983 to 1989 period that saw the arrival of Laura Salenger. After marrying Mark, Laura was known as Brix Smith, and her influence and overall style coincided with the band focusing on tighter song structures and not sounding quite as shambolic. U.K. singles such as “Victoria,” “Ghost In My House” and “Mr. Pharmacist” gained some airplay, and it looked like The Fall might finally break out of their cult status. My personal favorite from this period is “This Nation’s Saving Grace,” which is from 1985. Other travelers that have explored this region hold “Perverted by Language” (1983) and “The Wonderfull and Frightening World of The Fall” (1984) in equally high regard. Moving forward, the early ’90s found the band unsettled with all of its constant personnel changes, including Brix leaving both the band and Mark Smith. The overall songwriting seems to have lost its consistent edge, and not until the “Real New Fall LP” of 2003 is released does the band find itself on totally solid ground again. The constant changeover in band personnel at this time now seems to have given Mark a new transfusion of energy, and the song “Theme from Sparta F.C.” shows that they collectively still know how to kick ass. The easiest way to follow this crooked path that we have traveled so far would be to purchase the 6-CD box set, “The Complete Peel Sessions 1978–2004.”

Interesting side trips off the main road should include the 2-CD set, “27 Points” (1995)—a solid, mid-period live document—“Levitate” (1997) and “Unutterable” (2000). These last two studio releases have some strong moments and find M.E.S. changing the drum rhythms, leaving behind well-worn patterns and even allowing a few synthesizer parts into the tunes. It is reassuring to note that the 50-year-old Mark E. Smith hadn’t lost any bite with the band’s 2007 effort, “Reformation Post TLC,” or on “Imperial Wax Solvent” (2008). After 30-plus years of bringing his songs to life in recording studios, Smith is still a master at keeping things interesting. His success has always been based on not just taking the roads less traveled, but about following his personal muse, no matter what the consequences or where it might lead him.

We have to talk about the places to avoid with The Fall. Due to some financial difficulties, Mark wound up selling a variety of live tapes and studio out-takes to different labels for a quick infusion of cash to keep the whole operation running. Titles that fall into this category include “Fiend With Violin” (1996), “Oswald Defence Lawyer” (1996), and “Cheetham Hill” (1997). “Are You Are Missing Winner” (2001) just doesn’t have much to offer in the way of songs or performance, and the subsequent live tour captured on “2G+2” (2002) is equally uninspiring by Fall standards. Having said all that, keep in mind that if you get lost and wind up at any of the above places, you are still in a more interesting location than anywhere John Mayer, Keith Urban or Chris Botti are playing.

If you decide to follow The Fall on tour, I would recommend you purchase a quality piece of luggage that can withstand such an arduous journey. The Briggs & Riley Transcend 21.5-inch carry-on model (TD-U521X) is durable, has a lifetime warranty and gives you enough room for your clothes, iPod, laptop and external speakers. Whenever you decide it’s appropriate to finally have The Fall Experience, be sure to give yourself enough time to do it right. One week is not nearly enough—like an excursion to any faraway country, you’ll need extra days to just get acclimatized to the new sonic landscape. Anything written about The Fall should at least have a brief mention of their biggest supporter, the deceased legendary British radio DJ and Fall fanatic, John Peel. John was playing songs from one of The Fall’s new releases at the time on his show, and afterwards simply said, “They are always different, they are always the same.” This is still a perfect description for a band that continues to defy classification. Don’t hesitate to bring your Granny, along with her bongos—not only will she enjoy The Fall’s music, but she might even wind up playing onstage. Have a safe trip.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net


Apropos Nothing: A Few Loose Ends

Ten most played French Pop tracks, according to my iPod (as of November 29):

01. Serge Gainsbourg - 69 Année Érotique
02. Brigitte Bardot - Je Voudrais Perdre La Mémoire
03. Keren Ann - Deux
04.Coralie Clément - À L’occasion Tu Souris
05. Françoise Hardy - Ton Meilleur Ami
06. Jacques Dutronc - Le Responsible
07. Julie D - Aiko-Aiko
08. Sylvie Vartan - Si Tu N’existais Pas
09. Aline - L’education
10. Jacques Brel - Il Peut Pleuvoir

“Chestnut Mare” is the last great Byrds song. Written by Roger McGuinn and Jacques Levy, it’s a retelling of Peer Gynt’s opening act—except in this version, a horse takes the place of the reindeer. The narrator, Gene Tryp (I presume) is, like Gynt, something of a bullshit artist. The difference here, though, is that Peer Gynt didn’t fall in love with the reindeer. And that’s what makes “Chestnut Mare” a horse of a different stripe.

Twenty most played Class of ’77 UK “I call it Punk” tracks:

01. Doll By Doll - Teenage Lightning
02. The Clash - Janie Jones (demo)
03. Monochrome Set - Love Zombies (Peel Session)
04. Wreckless Eric - Waxworks
05. Scars - Aquarama
06. Damned - I Fall (live)
07. The Fall - Bingo-Master’s Breakout
08. Outsiders - Calling On Youth
09. Sham 69 - The Cockney Kids Are Innocent (live)
10. Tonight - Stroll On By
11. Undertones - Hypnotised
12. X-Ray Spex - I Am A Cliché (demo)
13. Buzzcocks - Why She’s A Girl From The Chainstore
14. The Jam - All Around The World (live)
15. Madness - E.R.N.I.E.
16. Stiff Little Fingers - Breakout
17. Magazine - Recoil
18. Ruts - You’re Just A …
19. Sex Pistols - Holidays In The Sun
20. Slits - Love & Romance

Not very inspiring, I know, but that’s what the iPod says.

Dearly Departed
A number of talented people checked out this year, and I can’t say I blame them. The following list contains those whom I consider important to my own musical education. Yes, that includes Beatrice Arthur. May they rest in peace …

January: Ron Asheton, Steve Edgson, Dave Dee, John Martyn
February: Tom Brumley, Lux Interior, Jorge Reyes (for Jim), Estelle Bennett
March: Kent Henry, Uriel Jones
April: Bud Shank, Randy Cain, Bea Arthur
May: Clive Scott, Uli Trepte
June: Sam Butera, Hugh Hopper, Bob Bogle, Seething Wells, Sky Saxon
July: Drake Levin, Twyla Herbert, Gordon Waller
August: Willy Deville, Rashied Ali, Ellie Greenwich
September: Bobby Graham, Mary Travers
October: Robert Kirby, Dickie Peterson, Al Martino, Vic Mizzy, Soupy Sales
November: Jacno, Al Alberts

My favorite Fall LP is still Dragnet.

Survey
If you had your choice of seeing one of the following in Taos, whom would you choose?

01. Roky Erickson
02. Calexico
03. The Black Angels
04. Tony Joe White
05. Circle Jerks
06. Holly Golightly
07. Jackie Leven
08. Acid Mothers Temple
09. Ozric Tentacles
10. The Sonics

Please email your selection to manbys.head@yahoo.com or add a comment here.
Happy Holidays!
Michael Mooney

Editor’s Note: Jim Webb and Michael Mooney go back to the same ole ’hood in Philadelphia. Snows came and melted, planets danced in choreographed spatial arcs in such a way that Jim found himself living in Santa Fe and Michael living in Taos. Both, truly diehard music fans, write of music appreciation and music history that speaks to nourishment more than entertainment. Stay tuned and enjoy.

Bobbie Gentry: Seasons Come, Seasons Go; Number 12 With a Bullet: The Death of Vocalist Walter Scott

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Michael Mooney & Jim Webb

Seasons Come, Seasons Go

Bobbie Gentry’s “Touch ’Em With Love” reached the lofty peak of 164 on Billboard’s album chart in 1969. Typical of her solo, post-Billie Joe output, it tanked in America. On the strength of Bobbie’s chart-topping version of “I’ll Never Fall In Love Again” (predating Dionne Warwick’s more playful American hit rendition by three months) however, the album was a UK hit. It’s a tremendous LP, possibly Gentry’s finest (there is no such thing as a bad Bobbie Gentry record.) The production is just right, and Bobbie nails every song. My only reservation is the lack of original material—just two of the 10 songs are self-penned. That they’re far superior to the covers (by the likes of Jimmy Webb, Bacharach-David, and Hurly-Wilkins) says much about Bobbie Gentry’s staggering talent. She is one of America’s great, underappreciated songwriters. Of the two, “Glory Hallelujah, How They’ll Sing” is a rousing and incredibly descriptive Countrypolitan Sunday Revival anthem (The Guardian includes it in their “1,000 Songs Everyone Must Hear” list. Here’s the entry: “Although it’s just ambiguous enough not to antagonize Bobbie Gentry’s large, hipster audience, Glory Hallelujah sees the Mississippi belle come, not to mock southern baptism, but to praise it. It isn’t in itself religious, but a celebration of the role faith plays in binding a community, from sing-songs at a country picnic to the barndance and church. The lyrics are fantastically detailed, and when the ecstatic gospel chorus breaks in, it would take a heart of stone not to feel the rapture.”) It’s that inspiring—almost enough to make me turn off the Fovea Hex this Sunday morning and get myself to church.

“Seasons Come, Seasons Go” is the other original track. At first spin, it sounds almost like a throwaway: predictable song structure, basic arrangement, no chorus, tacky harmonica, and the dreaded third (and fourth!) verse modulation. Six months ago, when Jim and I were researching numbers to feature at our (misnamed) 1969 Summer of Love dj session, this one very nearly made the first-round reject pile. But I listened again. Slowly, it began to reveal its melancholic beauty. One long crescendo, it’s a textbook lesson in how to layer instruments with subtlety, and Gentry’s casual phrasing reminds us that she would have made a terrific jazz singer. Heaven in two minutes, 50 seconds, and it’s all over much too quickly.

For me, after a bleak, nearly catastrophic winter, here was an encouraging song of renewed hope, the perfect balm for an unsettled spirit. Songs are funny that way. The good ones can sometimes be read like a map or guidebook. “Seasons Come, Seasons Go” defined my summer this year. Things happen for a reason, but the results are always for the better. “Don’t look back, good days ahead,” as Johnny once said. Except today, on a bright November morning, as I listen yet again, the future doesn’t appear to hold much promise. And while the sun is still shining, the air has turned cold. I realize now that I missed this song’s true meaning entirely. It isn’t about hope at all; it’s about loss. Songs are funny that way.

Now winter’s coming.

Dogwood blossoms float against
The ice encrusted creek bank
A tender blade of new green grass
Is bravely pushing upward through the melting snow
The Spring breathes ruffles through my hair
And whispers softly everywhere
Telling secrets in my eyes
Search the countryside for your hello
The seasons come, the seasons go

Lightning darts among the pines
Caught in a summer rainstorm
Soaking wet I look upon the new plowed earth
With rivulets between each row
I almost feel you next to me
And it stirs a memory
That hangs suspended with a sigh
And gently weaves its way through my bedroom window
The seasons come, the seasons go

See the grain lay scattered
In a trail that leads to nowhere
The rustling leaves beneath my feet
Swirl in a colorful kaleidoscope
A thousand spans of outstretched wings
Circle briefly, hovering
And they swiftly fly away
Leaving me to stay and face December snow
The seasons come, the seasons go

Ice encases blades of grass
Encouraging the wind to pass
And in the frosty morning sun
A field of diamonds beckon, waving to and fro
I stare into the fire a while
Think of you, my love, and smile
Wishing you were here with me
Sharing the security I know
The seasons come, the seasons go
-Bobbie Gentry

Michael Mooney
mooney@taosnet.com


Number 12 With a Bullet: The Death of Vocalist Walter Scott

Bob Kuban and the In-Men were a rock band from St. Louis, Mo., who in 1966 had a top 40 hit called “The Cheater,” written by their bass guitarist Mike Krenski. Kuban was the drummer for the group and handled the business side of things like promoting the band and booking gigs. “The Cheater” is one of those tunes that, when you hear it on an oldies radio station, you can’t remember who did it, but you immediately start singing along.

Haven’t you heard about the guy known as the cheater
He’ll take your girl and then he’ll lie and mistreat her
It seems every day now
You hear people say now
Look out for the cheater
Make way for the fool hearted clown
Look out for the cheater

The lead singer for the In-Men was Walter Scott, a good looking young man who continued to front bands like The Kommotions after leaving Bob Kuban in the late ’60s. Walter divorced his first wife, largely due to his affair with another woman; he wound up marrying “the other woman,” JoAnn Calcaterra, in December of 1969. Walter Scott and The Cheaters was the band name that he settled on in the early ’70s, and he proceeded to lead a musician’s life of endless weeks spent touring before periodically returning home to the St. Louis area. By 1980 his marriage to JoAnn was in trouble due to his constantly being away from home, coupled with her fears that he was having an affair with one of his backing singers. In December of 1983 Walter mysteriously disappeared, his car found abandoned at the St. Louis airport. It turns out JoAnn was involved with a local contractor named Jim Williams who had recently done some renovations to the Scott’s home. In October of that same year, Jim Williams’ wife Sharon died in a very strange car accident. She was found alone and unconscious in her vehicle. An autopsy wasn’t performed until 1987, when it was revealed that a savage blow to the back of her head had killed her, not the car wreck which was assumed to be the cause of her death. Shortly after Walter’s disappearance in late ’83, JoAnn and Jim Williams started living together; they finally got married in 1986. In 1987, the police questioned Jim Williams’s estranged son—who was then serving time in Florida on an unrelated matter—if he knew anything about Walter’s disappearance. He told them it was just a guess, but to check the cistern located behind his father’s home. Walter Scott’s body was later found inside the cistern and, eventually, Jim Williams was arrested. The twists and turns of these two murders are detailed in Scottie Priesmeyer’s book “The Cheaters—The Walter Scott Murder.”

Bob Kuban and the In-Men watched in 1966 as their hit song “ The Cheater” raced up the charts. The music trade papers designate any song rapidly climbing the top hundred singles chart with a bullet next to the entry, to show that it’s moving fast. Even though “The Cheater” was number one in St. Louis, the highest it ever reached on the national chart was number 12. Walter Scott sang the words—“Look out for the cheater,” every night he performed live for the last 17 years of his life. Ironically, Walter was killed by a bullet from a gun at close range, the circumstantial evidence overwhelmingly pointing to the involvement of his wife’s lover Jim Williams. After a lengthy trial, conviction and appeal, Jim Williams was finally sentenced in 1992 for the capital murders of Sharon Williams and Walter Scott. JoAnn wound up serving 18 months on a five year felony charge—for making false statements and hindering the prosecution—before being released in 1994. Jim Williams is currently serving a life sentence with no chance of parole at the Potosi Correctional Institution in Missouri.

Haven’t you heard about the guy known as the cheater
He’ll take your girl and then he’ll lie and mistreat her
It seems every day now
You hear people say now
Look out for the cheater

Tough luck for the cheater
Too bad for the fool hearted clown
Tough break for the cheater
Who used to build you up just to let you down
“The Cheater”—words and music Mike Krenski

Jim Webb

Issa Bagayogo: The Techno Griot of Mali

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Jim Webb

In the Wassalou region of Southern Mali is situated the small farming village of Korin. For many generations the people of this land locked region of West Africa have raised cattle and worked the soil. The constant cycles of drought have made their lives susceptible to famine, and food is never far from their thoughts. Issa Bagayogo was born in 1961 to a father that had four wives, and eventually was surrounded by fourteen brothers and sisters. All of the children at a young age were expected to work in the fields; it was the only way to stay alive. As a teenager Issa started to learn how to play the kamele n’goni, a traditional Malian six stringed instrument similar to a guitar. He was slowly getting a local reputation as a singer and performer when at the age of thirty Issa felt he had finally paid his family dues of working the land and headed for Mali’s capital city Bamako. He needed more out of life than the endless plowing of fields; it was time to try surviving as a musician.

In 1991 he wound up working briefly on a recording session at a new studio in Bamako that needed a n’goni player. In the evenings the studios engineer helped him make a cassette of his traditional sounding tunes, but still his music never reached a wider audience. He shuffled back and forth between his village and the big city for the next several years before finally becoming a mini bus driver in the capital. His lack of musical success led to excessive drinking and drug use that caused his life to spiral downward. His wife left him and some people thought he had gone crazy due to his many obsessions. He was uneducated by Western standards, but the one thing he had going for him was a determination and work ethic that can’t be taught in any book. He returned to the studio in 1998 with a clean lifestyle and a renewed purpose to achieve something with his music. The head engineer at Bogolan Studio was Frenchmen Yves Wernet, who talked to Issa about transforming his raw sound into something more modern. Yves wanted to use drum machines, keyboards, and female background singers to help give his songs a fresh contemporary edge. Issa was originally surprised at the results when he heard his voice for the first time wrapped around the layers of sound that had been added to his music. His vocals were still sung in traditional Bambara, his native language, but the additional instruments and electronic beats now helped make his traditional songs stand out in a marketplace full of aspiring musicians. Bamako was hungry for something new and his music started selling immediately; then the major label Six Degrees Records signed him to a contract and soon Issa’s music was available through out much of the world.

The hypnotic electro beat grooves of Yves Wernet and his crack studio musicians worked perfectly next to Bagayogo’s gritty vocals and the organic sound of his six string kamele n’goni. “Techno Issa” is now what everyone started to call him; 1999 was the year it all came together as he was voted Mali’s Brightest New Hope. In 2002, world music fans saw Issa on tour playing the influential WOMAD (World of Music Arts and Dance) Festival circuit drawing rave reviews. Tassoumakan was the title of his third cd in 2004 and means “Voice of Fire”, these songs speak about the evils of drugs, and the need for people to work together. For a long time now Issa had been carrying on the African Griot tradition in his music. The griot is not only a singer or storyteller, but someone who takes pride in teaching the history of its tribe to others. A personal highlight for him was performing in 2005 at The Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. Who could ever imagine back home in Korin that Issa’s ancient kamele n’goni would be heard in one of the most prestigious venues in America? He has continued to record and tour globally through the years and with his countrymen Salif Keita and Toumani Diabate is another link between traditional and modern music in West Africa.

The only thing dirt poor farmers in Wassalou can count on these days is that the setting sun still ends their day in the fields. When darkness comes, a few will later look into the night sky and ponder their future plans and dreams. Issa worked some of these same fields for over twenty five years, and has reminded them that with enough determination even difficult goals in Mali can be reached. I enjoy listening to Issa’s music, but his past as an illiterate farmer from Korin who refused to give up and ultimately triumphed makes me appreciate the man even more. Issa Bagayogo has reminded us all that through the inspirational power of music, anything is possible.

Issa Bagayogo Discography:
Sya (1999)
Timbuktu (2002)
Tassoumakan (2004)
Mali Koura (2008)
Issa Remixed (2009)

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net


Editor’s Note: Jim Webb and Michael Mooney, shared a childhood back in the old neighborhood in Philadelphia. Tides waxed and waned, stars swirled through Van Gogh’s night sky in such a way that Jim found himself living in Santa Fe and Michael living in Taos. Both, truly die hard music fans, write about music appreciation and music history in such a unique way that any university would be proud to have this pair in their curriculum. Stay tuned and enjoy.

Yesterdays Protest Song for Today

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Jim Webb

On October 15, 2009 CNN reported that home foreclosures hit an all- time record high in the third quarter of this year. One in every 136 US homes is either in default, auction notice or bank repossession. In 1949, a New York State apple farmer named Les Rice wrote a song called Banks of Marble that detailed the plight of the working man, and their struggles against the Banks. Les was a neighbor of folk singer Pete Seeger, and a one-time president of the Ulster County Farmers Union. Pete’s group The Weavers recorded the song in 1950, and it has been a popular union song ever since, particularly in Ireland. American singer / songwriter Iris Dement has also performed the tune live on her recent tours.

Banks of Marble
We've traveled 'round this country
from shore to shining shore
It really made me wonder
the things I heard and saw

I saw the weary farmer
plowing sod and loam
I heard the auction hammer
just a-knocking down his home

But the banks are made of marble
with a guard at every door
and the vaults are stuffed with silver
that the farmer sweated for

I’ve seen the weary miner
scrubbing coal dust from his back
I heard his children cryin'
"Got no coal to heat the shack"
But the banks are made of marble
with a guard at every door
and the vaults are stuffed with silver
that the miner sweated for

I've seen my brothers working
throughout this mighty land
I prayed we'd get together
and together make a stand
Then we might own those banks of marble
with a guard at every door
and we might share those vaults of silver
that we have sweated for
-Les Rice

If Les was still around I know how he would feel about using tax payer money to bail out failing banks. All this talk about home foreclosures reminds me of an old adage: Buy land, it’s the only thing they can’t make more of. I hope no one else loses their job, and you can afford your mortgage payments, or you might wind up singing a certain tune from 1949.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

The First Time I Met The Blues

THE SECRET MUSEUM
By Jim Webb

When I was in the eighth grade at Cecelia Snyder Middle School in 1971 we had a substitute one day for our regular science teacher Mr. Moser. Science class was the first period after the lunch break, and with time to kill I decided to head there early. I wandered into an empty classroom and sat down at my seat. Pretty soon everybody else would start to casually file in, just another routine in a school day that had plenty of them to spare. As I sat in my chair I glanced up at the blackboard, and a phrase was written in the middle of it.

"When a man is down, the Blues are his best friend." - Muddy Waters

I read it a couple of times, but had no idea why it was up there, and watched as a few classmates started to stream in. The substitute teacher finally made his appearance as an ordinary looking, middle-aged white guy with a beard. Most subs fall into two types, the ones who want to continue the lesson plan as if they were the regular teacher, or they just give everyone a free study hall to due anything they want, as long as it stays quiet. He said he wasn’t comfortable doing the science work left for us, and instead we would have a discussion. After he read the quote that had been written behind him in chalk, he asked if anyone had ever heard of Muddy Waters. No one responded, so he went into a brief history of the blues, and eventually he even got a few kids to ask some questions. Somebody asked if Muddy was his real name, and that set off another long story about how musicians sometimes had nicknames and different performing names, turns out Muddys actual name was McKinley Morganfield. Old stories and songs from long ago, the whole thing sounded like they could have known Huckleberry Finn. At thirteen years old, this blues thing didn’t seem too exciting. The whole conversation was unusual, but subs sometimes acted a little weird, and the hour seemed to go by quickly with everyone bolting the room as soon as the ending bell rang.

In September of 1975, I went to an Allman Brothers concert at The Spectrum arena in Philadelphia and the opening act was Muddy Waters. It was a sold out concert, so there was about 18,000 people crammed into this big airplane hanger of a building. Muddy sat on a stool near the front of the stage while his band was behind him, and played for about thirty minutes. The Allman Brothers were a blues – rock band, so the crowd treated Muddy with respect. Polite applause after each number, but everyone was there to get crazy with some Southern Rock a little later. For the last song of his set, Muddy got off the stool and really leaned into a tune called, Got My Mojo Working. The crowd started to catch fire as this legendary old man of the Blues gyrated across the stage, barking out words, he was gonna show that big rock crowd he still had some gas left in the tank. He gave a quick wave to the crowd, and left to a loud ovation.

The seventies came and went, as did most of the punk and new wave bands that I religiously followed. Never missed a local concert by The Clash, or The Ramones, but by 1982 that whole scene was getting a little stale to me. Fashion bands like Duran Duran and Culture Club were everywhere; it was time to go in a different direction. Between 1983 and 1987, I headed straight for the Blues. Buddy Guy & Junior Wells, B.B. King, Albert Collins, Willie Dixon, Memphis Slim, Otis Rush, and John Lee Hooker are just some of the names we saw. After Willie Dixon and his Chicago Blues All-Stars played at The Chestnut Cabaret we went backstage to say hello. You could do that after a blues gig, no heavy security or a big entourage to stop you. Willie was one of the all-time great Blues songwriters that also played bass and had written numerous hits in the ‘50’s like Little Red Rooster, Hoochie Coochie Man, Spoonful, and I Just Want to Make Love to You. He was a huge influence on The Rolling Stones, Cream, Led Zeppelin, and hundreds of other bands. Willie was a big man, well over six feet tall, but he was still carrying around a lot of extra weight. The sweat was dripping off him; his clothes were soaked with perspiration from just escaping the hot stage lights. He was close to seventy years old, tired from still pulling one nighters all across the country, but he greeted us like we were old cousins from Chicago. With a smile on his face he said,” How ya doin’ fellas, how was it.” I was fumbling around for words; did I just hear Willie Dixon ask me how he played? “You sounded great,” was all I said. There were a hundred questions racing through my mind that I wanted to ask him; about songs he wrote, and old Bluesmen that he’d played with. He looked content sitting there resting on an old wooden chair, but he also appeared worn down. The questions I had ready to fire at him suddenly didn’t seem very important. My friend and I settled for an autograph on a scrap of paper, we shook Willie’s hand and left.

When a man is down, the Blues are his best friend. I had no idea what that meant as a thirteen year old. Muddy and Willie were both African-Americans, born in Mississippi at a time when the color of your skin determined what kind of life you would lead. Growing up in the 1920’s outside of Vicksburg and Clarksdale, they knew what it meant to be down. Almost everything, and as far as they could see was down. They didn’t have any rich relatives with good paying jobs; most of their kin scratched out a living working the soil all day long, they called it sharecropping. When things seemed like they just couldn’t get any harder, music became a way out of the madness for them. Muddy Waters and his good friend Willie Dixon passed away many years ago. They left behind a lot of great music, but more importantly, inside the songs they left us their hard earned truths.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

2012: The Return of Skiffle?

THE SECRET MUSEUM
by Jim Webb

Modern day astronomers have calculated that on Dec. 21, 2012 our Sun will be aligned with the center of the Milky Way Galaxy for the first time in 26,000 years. I don’t think that it’s pure coincidence that the Mayan Long Count Calendar also predicts major changes at that same exact time. Some New Age shysters and general doom sayers have used this date to predict the end of the world. A closer look at The Dresden Codex (a historic Mayan work decoded) spoke of many things that were to happen on that date, and none of them specifically spoke of the Earth’s annihilation.

Here are some of the events that were prophesized over 1,000 years ago by the Mayan Indian Tribe for December 21, 2012; and why I feel they foreshadow the possible return of Skiffle.

1.) Physical or spiritual transformation will occur.
- Skiffle has this power over people, as witnessed during the 1950’s in the United Kingdom. It affected the lives and career paths of many people and was a positive life changing force.

2.) It will be a tremendously important event.
- After being exposed to a small dose of Skiffle in the mid to late 50’s, it has been estimated that from 30,000 to 50,000 British youths immediately created their own groups. Imagine what will happen if the whole world becomes infatuated with it.

3.) A major upheaval will take place.
- What could be more life changing than millions of people giving up their misguided enjoyment of rap, AOR (album oriented rock, for Rummy in El Prado) and general pop schlock for the organic vibrations of Skiffle?

Wait a minute, some of you might be thinking – what the hell is Skiffle? It originally started here in the good old U.S.of A. in the early 20th century. It was plain jug /string band music that had acoustic banjo, guitar, fiddle and even a kazoo thrown in at times. Homemade instruments made it affordable to just about anyone, but its popularity waned with the sophistication of Big Bands and commercial pop music. A revival of sorts occurred in British clubs of the mid fifties when jazz musicians took a short break or “Skiffle”, and certain players stayed for an up tempo set of old tunes in the traditional way. Lonnie Donegan became the most famous of these musicians and ultimately had twenty four successive top thirty UK hits. His, and Skiffle’s peak was 1957 when he ruled the airwaves with his no. 1 hit Gamblin’ Man. Such future rock luminaries as John Lennon, Paul McCartney, Van Morrison, Jimmy Page and Ritchie Blackmore (there’s a name The Secret Museum rarely mentions) were hooked on Skiffle at a young age and then spent untold hours banging away on their acoustic guitars. Skiffle was pretty wild for its day, but couldn’t compete with the uninhibited sexual energy and loud electric instruments of Rock and Roll, and like The Maya, mysteriously vanished.

The Mayan’s in their rituals and ceremonies were very aware of the cyclical nature of life. If they would have lived long enough they would have experienced and heard music go through its own cycles. Psychedelic Rock, Ska, Glam Rock, and Roots music have all come and gone in their popularity through the years. When we get tired of Alice Coopers Shock Rock, a few years go by, and then the next generation of youth thinks Marilyn Manson is something new and different. Who would have predicted that 1950’s style short haircuts for guys or Chuck Taylor sneakers would come back into vogue? Skiffle is like an earthquake fault line that is due for an eruption; minor shockwaves have been felt before, and in my opinion it’s just a matter of when. December 21, 2012 – Get your washboard ready, anything is possible, a new cycle is about to begin.
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

That's Entertainment! Sunset Strip Book Clerk Dialogues

The Secret Museum
by Michael Mooney

Michael Mooney: Your total comes to eighty-three dollars seventy-four cents.
Madonna (to baby daddy companion): What did he say?
Michael Mooney (to b.d.c.): Tell her he said, "It comes to eighty-three dollars seventy-four cents".

Michael Mooney: Hey, Mr. Reynolds, we gotta close now.
Burt Reynolds: Just give me another minute here.
[Five minutes later]
Michael Mooney: I'm sorry, Mr. Reynolds, we have to lock up now.
Burt Reynolds: Okay, just give me another minute here.
[One minute later]
Michael Mooney: Hey, Mr. Re...
Burt Reynolds: I said give me another...
Michael Mooney: GET OUT!!!

Mick Jagger's minder: Excuse me, is it alright if Mick jumps the queue? He's got to catch a plane.
Michael Mooney: Sure, if it's okay with them. [Gestures to line of customers.]
Mick's minder: Pardon me. Is it alright if Mick jumps ahead here? He has to catch a plane.
The Customers: Yes. Absolutely.
Mick Jagger: Cheers.

Michael Mooney: You can't park there. They'll tow you.
Leonardo DiCaprio: Aww, c'mon, man. Pleeasse?
Michael Mooney: Okay.
Leonardo DiCaprio: Cool!

Michael Mooney: Sorry, Lemmy, you have to take that cigarette outside.
Lemmy: Yeah, alright.
[10 seconds pass]
Michael Mooney: I kind of meant now.
Lemmy: Ah, fuck it!

Bruce Wagner (former hotshot LA novelist): Hey. This is Parker Posey. She's in Party Girl. See? [Gestures to advertisement on nearby billboard.] Can I get a picture of her with you for a piece I'm doing in Premiere?
Michael Mooney: No.

[Prince's driver knocks on locked door at closing time.)
Prince's driver: Can Prince come in?
Michael Mooney: Prince who? [pause]... Just kidding!

Billy Corgan: Where do you keep books on the 1830s?
Michael Mooney: What?
Billy Corgan: The 1830s. It's my favorite decade, history-wise.
Michael Mooney: Oh. Well, let's see. We may have a book on Andrew Jackson, or that new Hans Christian Andersen bio. They were both pretty busy in the '30s. Maybe something on the Greek Revolution?
Billy Corgan: Never mind. Where's the rhyming dictionaries?

Molly Ringwald: Do you have Joyce Carol Oates' On Boxing?
Michael Mooney: I think so. It should be over here in the Sports section.
Molly Ringwald: It's not a sports book; it's a novel.
Michael Mooney: No, it isn't.

Gregory Peck: You're holding a book for me. I'm Gregory Peck.
Michael Mooney: I know that!

[At book signing event]
Michael Mooney: Do you want me to put your jacket in the office, John?
John Lydon: Hah! You're not getting your hands on this. [He strokes the lapels between thumb and forefinger.]
Michael Mooney: Oh, like I'd want to steal that thing.

Suzanne Pleshette [sings]: Come on a my house, my house...
Michael Mooney [sings]: I'm gonna give you a Christmas tree!
Suzanne Pleshette: You have a nice voice.
Michael Mooney: So do you.

Peter Wolf: How do you get to Chatsworth?
Michael Mooney: No idea.
Peter Wolf: I gotta get to Chatsworth.

Co-worker: You remind me of Ice Cube.
Michael Mooney: Thanks. You remind me of Sharleen Spiteri.

[1995]
1940s tough-guy actor Lawrence Tierney: You from Philly? I spent time in Philly. Good town. You're okay, kid.

[1996]
Lawrence Tierney: Where's the dictionaries?
Michael Mooney: Just up the steps to the end. Turn left. You can't miss them.
Lawrence Tierney: Take me to them.
Michael Mooney: Sure. Just as soon as I move these books out of the aisle. Be a second.
Lawrence Tierney: Take a shower, you dirty rat bastard! Get a haircut!!
[He strikes Michael Mooney with his cane.]
Michael Mooney: Hey!
-mooney@taosnet.com

Fred Van Hove: The Most Adventurous Belgian Piano Player You’ve Never Heard Of

The Secret Museum
By Jim Webb

If you speak Flemish, or are familiar with European improvised music, you might have heard of Fred Van Hove. He is a very talented pianist from Antwerp, Belgium who was born in 1937. His father was a self taught musician who sent Fred at a young age to study classical music. Be-bop became an early passion, but once he was exposed to the liberating music of Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler in the mid ‘60’s he quickly became a disciple of the new “free”sound in jazz. By 1966, Fred was right in the middle of the blossoming European jazz/improvised music scene that included his friends Peter Brotzmann and Willem Breuker.

He has a unique style of playing the piano that falls between the cracks (and keys) of jazz and classical music. If you enjoy free jazz icon pianist Cecil Taylor, than unquestionably you will like Mr. Van Hove’s sound. Writer Tom Greenland has likened Fred’s piano playing to a “ballerina in hiking boots.” I would add that he explores the keyboard like it’s a musical Potters Field, unearthing unknown sounds and note combinations to create something truly fresh and original. Danger Will Robinson – Fred has been known to dump a bucket of ping-pong balls on the piano strings to alter the sound of the notes he’s playing. With all this talk of free jazz playing and experimenting with ping-pong balls did I just hear you mumble that he probably sounds like his piano is being thrown down a flight of stairs? Granted, it is very challenging music that Van Hove has created. Sometimes when I’m listening to his solo work (Flux), it sounds like he’s actually building a house. There’s some pounding and hammering on the keyboard at times, like nails being driven into wood. He’s definitely not all high energy; his playing often segues into lyrical, introspective sounding passages that hint at his classical studies as a young man. Mr. Van Hove’s artistry is held in such high regard that in 1996 he was named a Cultural Ambassador by the Belgian Government.

I was lucky enough to see Fred perform a solo concert in 2004 at Victoriaville, Canada as part of the Musique Actuelle Festival. I saw twenty- three gigs over three days (with the legendary Steve O.), and Van Hove was the highlight of the trip for me. He sat down at the piano and proceeded to create a totally improvised forty-five minute piece of music that left everyone stunned at its conclusion. Thunderous eruptions of sound would give way to rolling waves of notes that started at one end of the keyboard and made their way across it until his fingers ran out of keys to play. He would also work inside the piano, hitting the strings with various objects to alter the sound he wanted. No matter how out - there the performance got, Fred never lost his musicality. On a good night, the added beauty of watching and hearing improvised music being created is knowing that these exact sounds would never be heard again.

He is a master pianist, but he will challenge your definition of what that means. It is easy to list some of the different styles he has played in: be-bop, free jazz, improvised music, classical, and church music to name a few. Restrictive labels though don’t apply to Fred; he is simply too big a musical maverick to ever fit into those limiting categories. So, now that you are aware of Fred Van Hove, he is no longer the most adventurous Belgian piano player you’ve never heard of. He’s now just an adventurous Belgian piano player. That’s all he ever wanted to be.

-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Miles Davis: Fusion- His Final Frontier

The Secret Museum

October 04, 2009

By Jim Webb

Miles Davis
Fusion: His Final Frontier

Editor’s Note: Jim Webb and Michael Mooney knew each in the old neighborhood back in Philadelphia. Many, many, maybe too many? ... no, it’s all about the journey, right? Okay. Years later, events fell from the stars in such a way that Jim found himself living in Santa Fe and Michael living in Taos. Both, truly die hard music fans, write in an almost esoteric, conscious streaming that is reminiscent of fine jazz (Michael) and blues (Jim). Stay tuned and enjoy.

Michael Mooney wrote:
Lydia Garcia is the new publisher of Horse Fly. She has agreed to keep us on (in spite of her copy editor's delicate nervous system); in fact, we'll be appearing in this month's print edition. Jim and I applaud Ms. Garcia's excellent taste in writing, and sound editorial skills.
-mm

On May 25, 1961 President John Kennedy declared that we would land an American on the Moon before the end of the decade. That same week trumpeter Miles Davis played Carnegie Hall in New York City with his acoustic jazz group. Since the mid forties Miles had been a pioneer and innovator of such jazz styles as be-bop, cool jazz and now with Gil Evans they were even combining a symphony orchestra with his trumpet playing. Two totally separate events, but in July of 1969 man would land on the moon and be the farthest away he’s ever been from Earth. By the summer of ’69 Miles would have taken jazz far away from its traditional origins, leading an electric crusade into unchartered musical waters.

The manned U.S. space program had several projects to complete before they were ready to tackle landing on the moon. The Mercury and Gemini missions were needed to test out complex maneuvers that were essential for going to the moon and back. In 1964 Miles had formed one of his classic quintets and began a new phase to his music. In order to break down some of the established barriers in jazz, Miles needed a new crew to work with. One of his greatest strengths as a leader was being able to find the right musicians that would help him realize the new sounds he wanted to create. The band took off when Wayne Shorter’s saxophone and Ron Carter’s bass was joined by twenty - three year old Herbie Hancock on piano, and the even younger Tony Williams (17) playing drums.

Classic albums like Nefertiti, Sorcerer, and Miles in The Sky soon followed and established the quintets’ reputation for pushing the boundaries of jazz into new territories. Chord structures were being left behind as they played in a “free” form style and in 1968 electric keyboards and guitar were added to Miles’ sound palette for the first time. More changes in personnel occurred on two key releases in 1969. In A Silent Way not only brought guitarist John McLaughlin into the music, but keyboardist Joe Zawinul as well. In a Silent Way was an electric album, with the tapes heavily edited later by producer Teo Macero, and it helped point the way for the full blown jazz- rock fusion of Bitches Brew.

July 20, 1969 found Neil Armstrong planting the American flag on the moon and the whole world celebrated this historic culmination of technical and human achievement. The three Apollo 11 crew members returned to Earth as heroes and were given a ticker tape parade in New York City. August 19, 1969 saw the album release of Miles Davis’ Bitches Brew. It was a cauldron of heavy electric riffs, long extended jams, and a volume level unheard of from a jazz musician. Miles started touring with keyboardists Chick Corea and Keith Jarrett, while drummer Tony Williams left to form a short lived group with John McLaughlin called Lifetime. This new style was a combination of rock music’s electric volume with Jazz’s virtuosity of musicianship, and was referred to as Jazz-Rock or Fusion. Miles had now not only left all the jazz “rules” behind, playing acoustically with organized chord changes, but he had left most of his original audience of the fifties and sixties behind as well. Hard funk’s influence from James Brown and Sly Stone was also being added to Miles’ new brew and he now played rock venues and sold more records than at any other time in his career. This new fusion of jazz, rock, and funk was beginning to become quite popular. Wayne Shorter and Joe Zawinul formed a group called Weather Report, and their success was rivaled by John McLaughlin’s new Mahavishnu Orchestra. Chick Corea founded another fusion band titled Return to Forever, and jazz guitarist Larry Coryell’s Eleventh House was also an early jazz-rock favorite. Herbie Hancock had left Miles by the early 70’s and in 1973 his new Headhunters group outsold them all with his funk fueled version of the fusion sound. Miles released Jack Johnson (1971) and then On The Corner, showing on the latter release that he was still in touch with “the street’s” need for funk. Big Fun and Get Up With It were next, both collecting various studio experiments from the 1969 to 1974 period. Tabla and sitar were now adding a world music feel to some of his new tracks, with the influence of modern classical composer Karlheinz Stockhausen affecting others. This fusion of many different styles of music with its increasing popularity was being looked at as something to be reckoned with, more than just the latest record company induced fad. Listeners were amazed at the advanced technique that these musicians displayed. Miles forged ahead at an unrelenting pace, recording such dark, intense live albums as Pangaea and Agharta that mirrored his own increasing drug usage and personal problems.

Apollo 17 was the final moon mission in December of 1972, and the Apollo program itself finally ended in 1975. The space program that had until recently been looked at with such necessity and pride by its citizens, now only caused a yawn. Been there, done that. The technological advances that caused such a sensation only a few years before now were looked at as an unnecessary expense. People were out of work and going hungry, who cares about moon rocks? By 1975 fusion was also starting to run its course, and was getting slammed for its cold, unfeeling technical virtuosity. Showing off dazzling technique had been looked at as a welcome departure from basic three chord rock and roll earlier in the decade, now it was becoming a liability in the fickle world of youthful musical tastes. Miles was physically exhausted from the last six years of touring and recording, he decided it was time to pack up his gear and head home to New York. He stopped playing music in July of 1975 and he wouldn’t perform again until 1981. When he returned it was a different world. The record labels had found out how to make money from television, the MTV generation was more interested in watching videos than actually listening to the music. Davis wasn’t even trying to be a trailblazer with his new band; he simply improvised on the melodies that interested him, and worked to get his rusty lip back in shape. I saw Miles live half a dozen times in the ‘80’s, and near the end of his career my favorite tune of the evening was always his instrumental ballad treatment of Cyndi Lauper’s hit Time After Time. The powerful hurricane force winds his bands generated in the seventies had dissipated long ago. He had some decent releases in the eighties (Amandla, Aura), but in my opinion there was nothing that we couldn’t live without. It is painful to write that about such a great musician. Miles may not have known it at the time, but he would never again help blaze a new path in music.

Some critics who only enjoyed traditional sounding jazz have blasted the seventies as a waste of time for listening to Miles Davis. They claimed he was just out to make a quick buck off the rock crowd, but what they forgot was that Miles whole career since the forties was always about change, and taking chances. Modern man has long looked at outer space as the final frontier in exploration, for Miles Davis and his jazz rock followers – the fusion era will be regarded as his last great musical journey.

Where Did All the Fusion Boys Go?

Herbie Hancock: 69 years old with numerous Grammies under his belt. Still experimenting with various styles of music; last release was a collection of Joni Mitchell songs.
Wayne Shorter: 76 years old, Weather Report broke up in 1986. Shorter is still highly regarded as a saxophonist and has been playing in a more traditional jazz style for years.
Tony Williams: Died in 1997 at age 51- a tremendous percussionist who is sorely missed.
Joe Zawinul: Died in 2007 at 75 years of age. After Weather Report he continued to lead a jazz/world music fusion style group.
Keith Jarrett: 64 years old, master solo piano improviser who is part of a long running acoustic jazz trio with Jack DeJohnette and Gary Peacock.
Chick Corea: 68 years old, still plays jazz on acoustic and electric keyboards. 2008 saw a Return to Forever reunion tour that was highly regarded.
John McLaughlin: 67 years old, after the original Mahavishnu Orchestra disbanded in 1976 he concentrated on his Indian/classical group Shakti. Now plays in a variety of jazz styles.
Miles Davis: Died September 28, 1991 at age 65. Legendary trumpeter who has played and been a major innovator in a variety of styles; Be – bop, Cool jazz, Hard bop, Third stream (with Gil Evans) and Fusion. His 1959 record Kind of Blue is arguably still the greatest jazz record of all time.

Recommended Listening
Weather Report – Mysterious Traveler
Mahavishnu Orchestra – Visions of the Emerald Beyond
Return to Forever – Where Have I Known You Before
Billy Cobham – Spectrum
Miles Davis – Bitches Brew, Big Fun, Get up With It, Pangaea

Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

Uncovered: The untold showdown between The Isley Brothers and Nazareth

The Secret Museum
By Jim Webb


A lot of road tales from touring rock bands in the 1970’s are legendary. Hotel rooms destroyed, TV sets thrown out of tenth story windows, and even a Rolls Royce has been documented as being driven into a swimming pool. What hasn’t been talked about (until now) is an encounter that happened between two bands in 1976 in a Holiday Inn just outside of Detroit, Michigan. Both bands were at the top of their game, scoring with hit singles and playing to packed arenas across the country. It would seem like they had little in common, because the Isley Brothers were six black brothers(technically five brothers and an in-law) from Cincinnati playing a mixture of Soul, Rn’B, and Funk while Nazareth were four white lads from Scotland known for pounding out a furious hard rock attack. Nazareth had just finished opening for Ritchie Blackmores Raincoat at Cobo Hall in Detroit and had driven back to their motel in a thirsty mood. The Isleys had just finished a final recording session in the Motor City and the next mornings were flying to Atlanta to kick off their big tour. Nazareth lead singer Dan McCafferty was sitting in the lounge bar with guitarist Manny Charleton when unknown to them the Isley entourage wandered in. A top 40 cover band called Sin City was playing a lame version of K.C. & The Sunshine Band’s Get Down Tonight when Manny yelled out – “play a decent fooking tune.”

Ernie Isley walked in front of Charleton at that exact moment he yelled and stopped. He stared at him briefly, and then said – “cut’em a break man, it’s harder than it looks up there.” Manny was on his fourth Heineken at that point and quickly spat – “If you’ve gonna play a cover – give it a fooking kick, or leave it alone.” Ernie just laughed, “You kill me man, you don’t even have the balls to be up there, hidin’ behind that green beer.”
Dan was ready for a little fun and grabbed his bass player and drummer as he headed for the small stage. The lounge band ended their set and McCafferty told them the drinks were on him if they could borrow their instruments for awhile. Manny strapped on a Fender Strat with a scowl on his face, he was a Les Paul man all the way, but it would have to do. Dan said – “this is Vigilante Man by Woody Guthrie”, Manny played a long slide intro building up the intensity before McCafferty and his band mates cut loose with a roar. Ronnie Isley came up to Ernie and asked what’s up. Ernie didn’t say anything, too surprised at Charlton’s axe playing. A friend of Ronnie’s leaned over and told him – “I think that’s Deep Purple. Heard some of them was in town, those rock bands all sound the same, don’t they.” Ronnie didn’t say anything and took another sip from his Courvoisier. McCafferty announced Joni Mitchell’s This Flight Tonight and then the small room really started to cook. What was originally a soft, acoustic tune had been turned into something sharp and electric. Marvin Isley came over to Ronnie and said –“these are some scraggly lookin’ dudes – but they mean it.” Ernie piped in with – “I don’t dig no Joni Mitchell, she’s too wordy.” When the song was over Manny yelled over to the Isleys table – “that’s how you play fooking covers, make them yer own mate.” Ronnie unbuttoned his shirt and looked at Marvin, nothing needed to be said. You don’t make it in the music business for thirty years like the Isleys on talent alone; they learned the hard way you can’t back down from anything.

Somebody whispered in Ernie’s ear and then he came over to Ronnie and said –“that’s Nazareth, you know them guys. They did that heavy metal lullaby - Love Hurts.” Ronnie replied – “shit, that’s them? - they took that old Everly Brothers song and nailed that one too.” Ernie was getting worked up now. “What’s so special ’bout a man in leather singin’ sweet.” Ronnie looked over the top of his shades and softly slapped Ernie. “What the hell you think we did with Seals & Crofts Summer Breeze? It worked musically, financially and the women go crazy. We turned that baby inside out so much all them people bought it a second time from us because they couldn’t recognize it.” Nazareth’s manager walked up to the group and told the band the Isley Brothers were in the room. Dan walked over to Ronnie and shook his hand. “I love your band, and I love your voice.” Ronnie just smiled and said – “our turn.”

The Isleys jumped right into a high energy medley of Love The One Your With and Listen to The Music. If this was a cover contest, Nazareth picked the wrong Holiday Inn to start talkin’ trash. Ronnie then took hold of Todd’s Hello It’s Me and wrapped it all around his soul. The opening word - Hello - Ronnie kept repeating it like he had been hypnotized. Thirty-seven times he said the word, and each time he caressed it a little differently, adding an inflection that kept this one word mantra fresh, made it seem like a totally different song than what Rundgren had written.

Ronnie called Nazareth up to the stage, and he made sure Sin City was next to him as well. At this point no drinks were being served; the bus boys weren’t clearing any tables, the bartender lit up a cigarette. No one took their eyes off the stage; everyone was just waiting to see what was going to happen next. After a brief huddle between the musicians, Ronnie stepped to the mic and said – “here’s an old one from The Top Notes, we had a hit with it, and then some guys from England grabbed it.” Ernie kicked into Twist and Shout, and a joyous noise filled the room. Not everybody knew all the chords, but it didn’t matter. The bartender and waitresses knew how this one went and their voices filled in any musical cracks. When it was over Manny apologized to Sin City, told them he was wrong to say anything. Their lead singer said – “no man, you were right. Either make it your own – or don’t do it.”

It was time for both the Isleys and Nazareth to call it a night. The Isleys had to get to Atlanta to kick off a big tour, Nazareth had already been up a couple of days and it was time to crash for a least a few hours. The place cleared out after that special jam, and Sin City was left to play their last set of the night for the bus boys all sitting at one table in the far corner. A guy dressed completely in black walks into the lounge and sits down at the bar. He orders two Heinekens and swings around on his stool to get a look at Sin City. They start up Get Down Tonight, but before the lead singer says a word the man at the bar yells out – “Play a decent fucking tune.” One of the bus boys nudges his friend, “Hey, that guy over there is Ritchie Blackmore!”
-Jim Webb
webbjuice@comcast.net

King Crimson, Canned Heat

The Secret Museum:
By Jim Webb & Michael Mooney

Brian, Fripp, Gurdjieff & Me

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike -

I noticed in this morning’s news a small piece that said British authorities are going to re-open the case of ex- Rolling Stone guitarist Brian Jones death in 1969. We've read articles before claiming that there was more to that story than was reported, so it wasn't shocking. An hour later I was about to go on the elliptical workout machine and chose the cd Starless and Bible Black by King Crimson to be the soundtrack for this mornings exercise (penance). Through the years I've gone back and occasionally trying to figure Crimson out, but I never have gotten very far. I realized this morning that other than their first record, I just don't like 'em. Very little melody in their "songs", mostly dark, knotty passages to showcase their technical wanking. I remembered while listening to the cd that King Crimson made their breakthrough in July of '69 opening for The Rolling Stones in Hyde Park London in front of 500,000 people. That gig for The Stones was their first with new guitarist Mick Taylor replacing Brian Jones (who had either been pushed from the band, or stumbled out on his own). After Starless and Bible Black came out it wasn't very long before leader Robert Fripp disbanded Crimson in 1974. He was totally burnt out from the last five plus years of touring, and the pressures of leading the group. He wound up joining an esoteric school in the U.K. founded by John Bennett, who had been one of famed mystic, philosopher(charlatan ?) George Gurdjieff's advanced students in the 1920's. Bennett had kept searching for knowledge since Gurdjieff's death in 1949, and set up his own "school" incorporating a lot of his old teachers ideas and methods. I was done the work out and went back upstairs, on the counter was the current book I've been reading - The Struggle of the Magicians/ Why Ouspensky left Gurdjieff. The author in his preface claimed he could have called it - Why Oupensky, Orage and Bennett left Gurdjieff, but it was too unwieldy of a title. I stopped at that point and wondered if this was all just a coincidence, a silly version of the Kevin Bacon game, or was there a synergy of thought to this morning that when "busy" - I might never have noticed. The only other possibility that comes to mind is that I did have a magical piece of cake this morning from The Chocolate Maven in Santa Fe. I'll let you know if there is any more high weirdness later today.
-Jim Webb

Michael Mooney wrote:

Jim-

I always loved that photo from his What Are We Living For, of Bennett and his wife Elizabeth, taken the day before he died. I’m looking at it right now, and he appears as if he’s found all the answers, is totally at peace and ready to move on. Also, now that I think of it, I believe I borrowed this book from you. Oops!

Last week one of the TV news mags did a piece on the unofficial theme song to the Woodstock Festival, Going Up The Country by Canned Heat. I sat there thinking "I've always liked that tune," and also their earlier hit On The Road Again, but never really got into the band otherwise. I knew that guitarist/ Blues scholar/ soul-of-the-group Alan "Blind Owl" Wilson (singer of the aforementioned) died under mysterious circumstances in 1970, and growly-voiced Bob "The Bear" Hite of a heart attack in 1980, shortly after we moved to Los Angeles. I decided it was time to fully investigate Canned Heat. After an hour's research that morning, I determined the place to start was their second LP Boogie With Canned Heat. I wrote the title on a post-it, put it in my pocket, then headed over to my neighbor Julian's house. He'd asked me a couple of times to sort through his album collection and see if anything was of value and/or worth salvaging, and I was finally getting around to it. Out of 400-odd records, only two were from the rock era: The Guess Who's Wheatfield Soul (horribly scratched copy) and a near-mint Boogie With Canned Heat. I told him what I'd been doing just prior to my visit, and showed him the post-it note. This sort of serendipity happens all the time around Julian, so I shouldn't have been surprised. Of course the record’s mine now, and a damned good one, too. Next on my list is Future Blues.
-mm

Jim Webb wrote:

Mike -

After forty plus years of being infatuated with pop & rock music I can honestly say I've never purchased a Canned Heat 45, LP, 8-track , cassette or cd. Not that I didn't enjoy their sound, but for some unknown reason there are still good bands that the youthful mind refused to latch onto,and only now in middle age on hearing them do I realize what a grave error I had made in ignoring ________ years ago. I'm gonna get me some Heat.


P.S.

The liner notes to the remastered 1974 Crimson Starless & Bible Black cd listed the Top Twenty Sounds U.K. album chart as of March 23, 1974

1. Yes - Tales From Topographic Oceans
2. The Who - Quadrophenia
3. Bowie - Pin Ups
4. Genesis - Selling England by the Pound
5. Deep Purple - Burn
6. Ringo Starr - Ringo
7. Wishbone Ash - Live Dates
8. Stones - Goats Head Soup
9. Montrose - Montrose
10. Dylan - Planet Waves
11. Lou Reed - Rock n' Roll Animal
12. Blue Oyster Cult - Tyranny & Mutation
13. Alice Cooper - Muscle of Love
14. ELP - Brain Salad Surgery
15. Todd Rundgren - Todd
16. Bowie - Aladdin Sane
17. Lou Reed - Berlin
18. Yes - Yessongs
19. King Crimson - Starless & Bible Black
20. Magma - Mekanik Destruktion Kommandoh
-Jim Webb

Michael Mooney wrote:

Possibly the only sales chart EVER to feature Tyranny & Mutation. Sounds seems around this period to have appealed more to the sophisticated listener than Melody Maker or the NME. No post-glam, Rollers or even Slade. Good list though.
-mm