Let it go...and so fade away

While driving back into the city the other day, I found myself in need of a change from the usual WFMU/Howard Stern/Spotify playlist selections that tend to dominate my listening these days. My ears craved the comfort food of NYC classic rock radio. Once upon a time there were three stations to choose from – WNEW, K-ROCK, and Q104.3. It was difficult not to find a song you liked on at least one of the stations at any given time. With the consolidation and corporatization of radio stations and formats, only Q104.3 continues to churn out the classic rock. If the #1 radio market in the US can support only one classic rock station, I pity the smaller regions of the country that have to slurp up whatever morsels are available to them among the selections of rock-type music that are being cranked out today.

When I tuned in, I stumbled upon a staple of classic rock radio – the workforce block. To the uninitiated, a workforce block consists of 3-4 songs of the same artist. These blocks are usually requested by some person whose job allows him to be in close proximity to a radio so he can hear his name being uttered by the DJ as his songs are queued up. This particular block happened to be devoted to U2. For one thing, it’s interesting how U2 went from college rock radio to alternative radio to Top 40 radio to classic rock. That trajectory feels like the journey of my own life from youth to middle age. The last song of the block was “Bad”, now 31 years old.

While listening to the song my mind drifted back to the years 1984-1987, the same era when U2 straddled the fences of alternative rock and Greatest Rock Band In The World. I thought about how, at the age I was during that time, bands and songs had the ability to transform and uplift me beyond my self-loathing being. In those days there was an excitement around hearing the new single from whoever was the hottest band around at a certain point in time.

These days, music has become a throwaway commodity. For $9.99 per month I have access to millions of songs. It’s not like it once was when you had to be more discriminating about what music you were going to purchase because albums and CDs were more costly. It would be quite the task to assemble my Spotify library if I had to buy each album or song individually. The upside to this is that I’ve encountered a ton of good music without incurring great expense. I tend to save a track or band that captures my fancy but much of it is in-and-out. There’s no sense of permanence here. Most of the artists and songs don’t burn themselves into my consciousness in the same way that the songs of my youth did.

I’ll still get excited listening to older stuff but I wonder why I’m missing the transcendent nature that was part of my youth. Is it because I have it all ay my fingertips to be punched up immediately? Is it merely due to the passage of time that has brought me away from the time in life where the spark can happen? Or is it simply a question of the quality of what’s out there?

In regards to the last question, it’s too early in the digital music game to know what the longevity of today’s streaming superstars will be. Perhaps I’ll know more when I revisit this topic down the road.

Maxwell's

Anyone who's been familiar with Hoboken since 1995 knows that the town has experienced a radical shift in housing prices and overall cultural aesthetic.  During the ten or so years I spent in Hudson County, I was continually amazed at the way developers were able to squeeze in yet another towering condo community into a city that's only one mile square.  Back in my day, there was still a hearty contingent of locals and imported freakers who turned their noses up at the inevitable changes that come with the gentrification of a neighborhood.  From their stools in Kelly's Pub, Black Jack's and Louise and Jerry's, these raconteurs would talk themselves hoarse about the good old days of cheap rent and unsafe streets.  All of that has vanished into the mist of nostalgia.

Among the last holdouts from the "old" Hoboken is Maxwell's, one of my favorite all time rock clubs.  The official "backstage" area was in the basement next to the kegs. Bands would have to walk up the basement stairs, through the bar, and then navigate their way to the stage from the back of the club room while accepting (or dodging) pats on the back or high-fives being offered from the crowd. I always thought that was a great proletariat approach as opposed to the usual way that bands appear from the backstage wings, looking down on their audience from on high.  I remember one night when Anton Newcombe was trying to make his way to the stage when someone by the door to the back room tried to goad him into a fight. Thankfully, Todd A was able to gently coax him away and prevent the possibility of having to refund the entire crowd for a show that was aborted before it began.  The stage was barely a couple of feet off the ground so if you were in the front there was a good chance that you might be playing the role of roadie by helping adjust mic stands that were accidentally knocked down. At Maxwell's, you felt like a more integral part of the show.

I read today that Maxwell's is shutting down on July 31st.  The shift in nightlife trends combined with the fact that much of the Maxwell's crowd has grown older and moved on makes it difficult to sustain a live music venue in Hoboken.  Despite the challenges they've faced for well over a decade, Maxwell's managed to outlive CBGBs, Brownies, Tramps, and The Continental.  This is no small feat. I was lucky enough to see a lot of great shows there over the years- Mike Watt, Guided By Voices, Supersuckers, Dead Moon, Doo Rag, The Dirtbombs, Billy Childish, Reigning Sound, Brian Jonestown Massacre, and more. (Typing that list out just now reminds me of how amazing that place was).

I'm at that age now where I can share memories of adulthood that took place over 20 years ago.  Each vestige of my younger days that slips away is another not-so-gentle nudge towards middle age. I'm slowly getting better at accepting this fact and am grateful for the experiences I had along the way.  Thank you, Todd A and gang, for so many magical nights.

Viva La Vinyl!

For many years, I wanted to live in my current neighborhood but everything that was once appealing about it is rapidly fading away like an old Polaroid photo in reverse. St. Mark's Place looks like a mall and the NYU kids and whoo-hoo girls have made the place seem like an extension of college. Adding to my disappointment is the fact that one of the two record stores on my block closed this weekend. I've always found it odd (yet refreshing) that in an era where record stores are becoming extinct, our block has been able to sustain two shops. Until now. This store is collateral damage of the digital music revolution and its conquering of all physical music media. As if that weren't enough of an opponent, they're also on the losing side of the gentrification of the East Village. The building now has new owners and, if you live in New York City, there's no need to spell out the rest.

While I was only in there once or twice and never bought anything, I'm always saddened when a small business owner in the East Village is forced to shutter a business and seek livelihood elsewhere. When it's a record store, I feel an extra bit of sorrow. As much as I love the convenience of things like MP3s and Spotify, I will be the first to tell you that the sonic quality of these mediums does not measure up to a physical record. Whenever I put on a piece of vinyl, I immediately recognize the warm thump of bass that I never get to hear through those white earbuds. That timbre reaches down to my bones and warms me from the inside. There's now an entire generation of people who will never know this feeling. I can't blame the kids, really, as they're not being given the option to experience music any other way. For those of you who know better and who turned your backs for the sake of convenience, shame on you.

I heard that the owners are planning to go to LA and give things a shot there. I hope they make it.

Happy Birthday, Jer

I recently watched an old “Mad Men” episode that involved the death of Marilyn Monroe and the intense emotional reaction of the women at Sterling Cooper. Roger Sterling expresses his befuddlement over the fact that the women are reacting very strongly about someone they didn’t know. He clearly doesn’t understand the way that people attach themselves to their popular culture icons. This particular episode came to mind as I sat down to write this.

Ol’ Jer would’ve been 70 years old today. Later this week is the 17^th anniversary of his death. I’ll admit that I cried when I heard the news. At that time there was a lot of drama in my life. I think that the occasion of Garcia’s death was the catalyst I needed to release a torrent of stress and misery that had been building up for me. Over the subsequent years since Jerry left us, we’ve learned how his drug use destroyed him slowly. As someone said around the time he died, what he really needed was his own Grateful Dead type of escape where he could find the joy that he brought to many of us. I’ve often wondered what would’ve been if, as expressed in his last Rolling Stone interview, he was able to take a year or two off to get out of the hamster wheel and recharge his spirit. By that point in time, the band became such a huge enterprise that the livelihoods of dozens of people would’ve dried up and I suspect that Jerry had a very hard time accepting all of that.

Of course, I have no idea what Jerry thought about anything. As with many people who are fans of the Dead (or Springsteen or Dylan or any number of musicians), we assume that we have deep insights into a person we’ve never met merely because we can recite lyrics perfectly or walk around with an internal encyclopedia of the person's body of work. In Garcia’s case, I’ve thought about what it must’ve been like to drive around and see your face on other people’s bumper stickers and t-shirts. Jerry was very clear about the fact that he was not interested in being a hero. In fact, he expressed some disappointment over the fact that many people were unable to find anything in America more adventurous than following his band around. All he really wanted was to play music and may have been content if the Grateful Dead never happened and he was forced to hustle coffeehouse gigs and give guitar lessons to pay the rent.

So do I miss him? Not in the way I might miss an old friend who died but there is still a feeling of loss and yearning for what once existed.  Garcia’s passing was, for me, symbolic of the end of a certain period of my life that was full of highway adventures, roaring laughter, and even a life-threatening experience or two. When I listen to his music, there’s a part of me that celebrates those episodes from years past. The other part is all about embracing the joy and the passion in his playing that is stirred up in me even after listening to the same shows dozens of times. I'm grateful tonight for all of the people who took it upon themselves to record as much of the journey as possible so that people like me could revel in it. I feel lucky that I was able to make a connection to the music of a relative stranger and find a little pocket of peace and joy whenever I need it.

Wherever you are tonight, Ol' Jer, a lot of us are thinking of you and saying “thanks”.

Cornershop's "Urban Turban"

The other day, I was hunting for Cornershop’s “Brimful Of Asha” when I stumbled upon the pleasant surprise of their new album “Urban Turban”.  There’s the beauty of Spotify right there- the ability to make a serendipitous discovery that otherwise would’ve been hidden far from your grasp.  

The album opens with “What Did The Hippie Have In His Bag?”, the title’s whimsy matched by the seemingly random lyrics sung with the background vocals of a group of young children. Like “Brimful of Asha”, the song is driven by a basic, chunky guitar riff and is just as charming.  “Who’s Gonna Lite It Up?" dirties up the guitar a bit and adds some spice via a sultry Middle Eastern drumbeat that takes the basic glam-rock vibe and spins it closer to hypnotic trance.  “Beacon Radio 303” is another fantastic amalgamation of sounds: funk bass, fat 303 synth sound and Rajwant’s chanting vocals (in Hindi?). Towards the end of “Urban Turban” is the old-school disco vibe of “Dedicated” which could've made 'em get down in the old Paradise Garage/West End Records days.

“Urban Turban” does a splendid job of uniting a range of disparate sources and will pull you gently towards the dance floor and leave you blissfully stranded.

Kurt

Today at work, a kid proposed “Flannel Fridays” as a work team-building activity. He went on to describe flannel shirts in the historical context of the 1990s music scene. To be honest, it was a well-written proposal given that this kid was maybe 7 or 8 years old back then. This spiel was notable to me because yesterday marked 18 years to the day that Kurt Cobain died. I still remember being at work in Seattle when someone came into our office to tell us that she heard on the radio that a body had been found in Kurt's house. As this was pre-Twitter and pre-TMZ, it took a while to confirm what had occurred up in that attic.

This event has become a milestone for a lot of us who came of age during those years. What I appreciated about Kurt Cobain was his ability to really hone in on moods rather than statements. His lyrics had a stream-of-consciousness vibe that seemed to come out so effortlessly. One of my favorites:

I'll start this off without any words

I got so high that I scratched 'til I bled

I love myself better than you

I know it's wrong so what should I do?

The finest day that I've ever had

Was when I learned to cry on command

I love myself better than you

I know it's wrong so what should I do?

And then the end:

And one more special message to go

And then I'm done and I can go home

As much as he's been touted as a generational statesman, he wasn't trying to make sweeping epic commentaries. He told us how he felt and he did it with a combination of raw punk energy and the the catchiest of pop hooks. If you don't think Kurt was a fan of more mainstream pop music, listen to the version of “About A Girl” from the MTV Unplugged album and just try to deny the obvious Beatles influence.

Perhaps one of the reasons I keep hanging onto memories of the Seattle 90s music scene is that it was the last time I can recall being truly moved by rock music. I don't know if it's my age, but it seems that a lot of what's out there today just goes through me without sticking to my gut. I'm not saying I don't like a lot of the newer bands; it's just that I don't see myself 18 years from now contemplating much of it or listening to it with any regularity. What keeps me in the game is the thought that somewhere in a basement, there's a kid with a crappy guitar and a beat-up amp who is on the brink of making me stand up and take notice once again.

Everyday Sunshine: The Story Of Fishbone

Fishbone is one of the greatest live bands I have ever seen. Their shows were a whirlwind of sweaty manic energy from the get-go with band members twirling their keyboards around and stage diving with trombones and saxophones. The recent documentary “Everyday Sunshine: The Story of Fishbone”, narrated by Laurence Fishburne, does an extraordinary job of telling the band's compelling story.

The band members met as high schoolers in the late 70s when they were bused from South Central LA to the San Fernando Valley, an era captured hilariously via a series of interviews and animated clips.  By throwing into the musical blender the diverse range of sounds that they were exposed to (funk, punk rock, R&B, and soul), Fishbone was able to create a style that had never been heard before but that has influenced scores of musicians who came after them. Many of them, like Gwen Stefani, Les Claypool, and Flea, offer appropriate gushing tribute.

“Everyday Sunshine” captures the full ride of the band, from their signing while in high school to the near hits and the career-long struggle to find a niche while being too black for rock radio and not black enough for black radio. The film bares it all, including the tensions that drove most of the original lineup away. In what must be one of the oddest band breakup stories ever, guitarist Kendall Jones, seemingly in the midst of a serious mental disorder, leaves the band to join a cult. This leads to a kidnap attempt by band members that almost ends with prison sentences. As the film gets closer to the present day, there are only two original members left, singer Angelo Moore and Norwood Fisher. Their quest to keep the band going is full of challenges (especially in trying to get along with each other) but their belief in Fishbone holds strong and by the end of the film, one is left with a sense of hope that Angelo and Norwood will make it all work out.

“Everyday Sunshine: The Story Of Fishbone” is a long-overdue tribute to one of the greatest bands to grace a stage.

I Want My MTV

I just finished the absolutely riveting “I Want My MTV” by Craig Marks and Rob Tannenbaum which documents the heyday (for those of a certain age group) of the groundbreaking music network. The story traces the arc of MTV as it rose from scrappy startup in 1981 flying by the seat of its pants to the juggernaut it soon became as it changed the face of popular music. The book's narrative ends in the mid 90s as the network began its transition away from groundbreaking cable powerhouse towards reality-show warehouse. All along the way, there is a ton of juicy gossip and decadence to sink your teeth into.

At almost 600 pages, “I Want My MTV” is a surprisingly breezy read- every time I picked it up, I fought to put it down. So many images from MTV that have been seared into my memory sprang back to life as I read the book: Larry “Bud” Melman kicking Run-DMC out of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; David Lee Roth swinging across the stage on a pulley while holding a boombox to his head; Axl Rose getting off the Greyhound bus at the bus depot. "I Want My MTV" comprehensively documents all of the music movements that MTV blasted into our living rooms, from post New Wave to rap to metal to grunge. Also included are the stories and remembrances of the executives who worked behind the scenes as well as the VJs who were in front of the camera. As I turned the pages, I had a lot of “oh yeah” moments about things I hadn't thought about in a long time about like MTV Spring Break, Remote Control, and MTV Unplugged.

By them time you're done reading this book, you may find yourself saddened at the current state of MTV. As Dave Holmes says at the end of the book, no one is going to remember anything in particular about "My Super Sweet 16" as they will a Duran Duran video. Thankfully, all of the good bits are preserved forever online. When you read “I Want My MTV”, you will find yourself scrambling to YouTube to relive some of the best memories of your upbringing.

Thinking About How Music Used To Sound

The other day, I had the intro to “Back In Black” by AC/DC ringing in my head. When I heard it for the first time on vinyl through my parents' stereo system, the moment where Angus Young's killer riff kicks in felt like being kicked across the room. While I was daydreaming about all of this, I remembered a recent post by Bob Lefsetz titled “Sound Quality” where he states:

…..if you’re listening to hard rock or acoustic music on earbuds, anything but Top Forty dreck, you’re gonna be predisposed to think it sucks. Because you’ve got to feel the music. And almost nobody has enough power to generate that kind of oomph, only distortion.

One of the points he makes is that today's music is being produced to be played on computer speakers and tiny earbud headphones. To me, most of what passes for popular music these days sounds scrunched down and flat to me. I guess this is what happens when music is made on computers to be played on computers. While I've expressed my appreciation of what the digital age has done to facilitate the creation of music, much of the output is missing the warmth that used to come off a record. I refuse to listen to any digital version of The Rolling Stones' “Get Yer Ya Ya's Out” even though the digital versions I own are easier to get to than my record. To me, latter-day Springsteen music is an entirely different animal than his classic records because the new sounds lacks the dynamic of “The River” where the songs feel like they were all done live with the guys standing around a big room. In fact, one thing that is sorely lacking from today's music is the sound of “the room”. Any decent producer can tell you that the room used in a recording is another instrument in the band. The reason that John Bonham's drum beat in “When The Levee Breaks” stands out over 40 years later is that the drums were placed at the bottom of a stairwell and mic'ed from above. In the documentary “The Promise: The Making Of Darkness On The Edge Of Town”, there is a great scene that shows Bruce obsessively searching for the perfect drum sound. He has Max Weinberg pounding a snare over and over and shouts out “Stick!” every time Max's drumstick makes a sound that detracts from what he wants. I wonder if that level of obsessive detail over acoustics is happening today. (I'm not saying it isn't- I'm just wondering).

Though many are losing hope that today's music has forever lost the warmth that comes with live recording, my faith was restored somewhat when a friend's Spotify feed informed me that he had just listened to “Go To Hell” from Raphael Saadiq 2011 album “Stone Rollin'”. The 70s soul groove on this record is reminiscent of old Stevie Wonder. When you listen to it, you can picture a big room full of musicians reading off of charts and recording together like you see in so many movies about music as it was made in the good old days. “Stone Rollin'” is one of a small handful of records released last year that has restored my faith that there are musicians out there that are able to make music that feels intimate instead of electronic. (Another example that jumps out at me is “Helplessness Blues” by Fleet Foxes.) If you keep the faith, true believers, you can still get knocked off your socks if you're willing to hang in there.

"Let's Go Eat The Factory": The Return Of Guided By Voices

At first, it may sound like a little bit of an over-reaction to discuss the current “comeback” of Guided By Voices. Sure, the band's last incarnation hung up their boots on New Years' Eve in 2004, but GBV leader Bob Pollard has hardly stopped producing music, having released dozens of albums since that point. What makes the new album “Let's Go Eat The Factory” noteworthy is that it represents the return of the so-called “classic lineup” that recorded “Bee Thousand”, “Alien Lanes”, and “Under The Bushes, Under The Stars”, a trifecta that represents what many believe to be the best era of the band.  A one-off reunion show in Las Vegas to commemorate the 21st anniversary of Matador Records turned into a reunion tour which has now spawned an album.  With 24 songs clocking in at a total of 41 minutes, “Let's Go Eat The Factory” adheres to the short and snappy “let's get it done” workman's ethic that defines this band. This album marks the return of the less polished, scrappier vibe that was missing from the last few GBV records as the band worked with people like Rik Ocasek and chased a slicker sound. As with a lot of Guided By Voices records (and the myriad of Pollard side projects), you'll find songs you absolutely adore and songs that you may not listen to repeatedly.

The lead track, “Laundry And Lasers”, kicks things off with buzzing guitars that slowly build to the gritty Townshendesque swagger that GBV has always pulled off undeniably well. The rougher edges of the band shine through the blunt punk guitar attack of “God Loves Us.” There are also a few twists and turns along the way including the strings-tinged melancholy of “Hang Mr. Kite” and the sparse vibrato flutter of “My Europa”. The strings return in the acoustic-driven “Chocolate Boy”. If you're looking for the Ass-Kicking Moment Of The GBV Album, you'll find it in “The Unsinkable Fats Domino” where you're reminded of this band's ability to create driving hooks that make a song clocking in at 1:55 seem like an epic rock song.

With “Let's Go Eat The Factory”, it's crystal clear that there's a difference between Guided By Voices and a Robert Pollard side project as well as between the so-called classic lineup vs. the other incarnations of this band. That's not to take away from the other musicians who have served well with Robert Pollard as the last few Guided By Voices albums had their stellar moments. But when you put on “Let's Go Eat The Factory”, you will remember why you initially became a fanatic follower of GBV.

"Let's Go Eat The Factory" is available now digitally and on 1/17/11 in physical format.

Video of "The Unsinkable Fats Domino" courtesy of The Audio Perv.

Viva La Vinyl With The Vinyl District GPS Record Store App

As the music world gets deeper into technology and further away from the old school, The Vinyl District has brought things back around with its free GPS-based Record Store Locator App for iPhone or Android. As the site claims, it's the only GPS-based record store locator app in the US. It's as simple as pressing the All Stores button in the app and waiting for a list of stores to appear along with addresses and mapped locations.

I've been testing it a little bit and I have to say that so far, it's working rather well. The app was able to find the two record stores on my block as well as all of the shops located nearby around the LES, East Village, and West Village. I'm pretty sure there's nothing missing in the listings for my hood. I've walked around a little bit and whenever I've given the app a spin, it comes up with a reasonable list of results. I'm eager to try this out when I travel and see where it takes me.

I wonder how this app was put together- did someone manually enter every record store into a database? I'd love to know. As I understand it, they'll be adding the UK at some point in time. Eventually, it would be incredible if you could use this app anywhere you happen to be to help you go a'hunting for vinyl. One addition I'd like to see is the ability to enter a zip code, city name, or neighborhood (i.e. Silver Lake) and bring up results. I realize that's not exactly GPS but I think it would be a great enhancement.

As much as I love how technology has changed the way we create and consume music (as written about here and here), I'm really struck by the idea of using current technology to help sustain old school record shopping. As all of these stores are locally owned, this app is a wonderful way to help out our independent record store owners as they try to stay alive in today's music market.

Check it all out here!

PJ20

I just got home a little while ago from seeing “PJ20”, the outstanding Cameron Crowe documentary on Pearl Jam. The film does a great job of telling the Pearl Jam story starting with the early days of Stone Gossard and Jeff Ament in the ill-fated band Mother Love Bone which collapsed after the death by overdose of singer Andrew Wood. Stone and Jeff decide to forge on and the story continues when they find a surfer guy named Eddie Vedder to sing for them and shortly thereafter, things take off like a rocket ride as Pearl Jam attains meteoric success. There were also a few bumps over the course of the last two decades but at the end of the film you appreciate the members of Pearl Jam as strong survivors who withstood a number of things that have ended countless other bands.

The film starts out with grainy video of the old days and as soon as the band attains success you can see the quality of the footage improve as if on cue. Over the course of “PJ20” you also see the progression of the musicians as their frenetic on-stage energy tempers with age. That's not to say that the energy of their performances is lessened because the passion is still evident. The 2006 live clip of “Release” from their debut Ten is absolutely spellbinding as is the campfire singalong of “Better Man” from Madison Square Garden in 2010. Their take on the Mother Love Bone tune “Crown Of Thorns” gave me the same goose-bump feelings I had when I first heard the original 20 years ago. As they got older they seem to have channeled their energy into the music. No one feels the need to jump around too much these days and Eddie no longer needs to climb scaffolding to prove a point (though he's been known recently to do a bit of scaling). Their endurance over the last 20 years has said enough for them.

The journey wasn't always graceful. For one thing, it's a little awkward to hear them reject the concept of the Grammys but still feel compelled to show up to the ceremony. It's never easy to listen to hugely successful bands as they denigrate the trappings of fame and a life that most people will only dream of living. They were more or less forced into an awful no-win position by their participation in the Justice Department inquiry into Ticketmaster. When they were willing to take a stand, the rest of their peers in the industry stood back and let them take the heat. When you watch the rapid transformation of Eddie Vedder from bra-wearing jokester to the more stoic guy we know today, you see the change as a by-product of the immense pressure that Pearl Jam faced when they were put under the microscope of public scrutiny. All of the people who criticized their rejection of mainstream success overlooked the very important point that they didn't ask for the Time magazine covers or the media blitzkrieg that ensued in the wake of their success. The only thing that Pearl Jam has wanted was to be a band making the best music possible.

It was delightful to take a stroll through all of that history. What I liked about the early part of the film was the portrayal of the pre-explosion Seattle scene as a place where musicians genuinely liked each other and supported each other. Until now, I had no idea about how Chris Cornell served as a mentor to Eddie Vedder during the Mookie Blaylock days. For me, it was a heartwarming look back at a band that I was totally enamored with when I was living in Seattle back in the 90s. (I once almost hit Eddie with my car because he wasn't paying attention as he was crossing the street.) While I'm not playing their more recent albums in constant rotation these days, I'll never tire of the first three Pearl Jam albums. “Vs.” in particular will always stay with me as it was given to me while I was in bed recovering from a very serious case of food poisoning. I will never forget standing on my futon bed and being seemingly healed by the music. I was uplifted from the opening strains of “Go” and the feeling did not subside for the remainder of the album.

“PJ20” is the story of a group of guys who stayed the course no matter what was thrown their way. When the pitfalls of mega-success began creeping in, the band chose to retreat and stay true to themselves. In an era of “American Idol” and short-attention-span success cycles, watching this film makes you appreciate what it means to be in for the long haul and especially all of the crap that comes with the territory. Cameron Crowe truly captures the dynamics of the bonds that these guys have shared.

DIY In The Internet Music Age

As of last week I have two albums for sale on the iTunes Store and Amazon MP3 with more retailers to follow soon. Ten years ago, it would've been laughable to think that I could make a record on the cheap for purchase at the same place where you could buy a U2 album. These days, the world is changing so quickly. If you've recorded music that you want to sell, it takes less than one hour to upload it to Tunecore. Within 72 hours, you're live and worldwide. Unbelievable. No agent, no manager, no record deal.

One of the records that's available is the "Sylvester Shalom" EP by D-KEZ, an electronic-ish collaboration that started late one night in the cramped living room of my attic apartment. Many years ago, my partner in crime was at my place as we were going to San Francisco the next morning. He started showing me an early version of GarageBand on his PowerBook G4. We grabbed a few instruments, plugged them into his laptop and had "Pleather Bland" done within a couple of hours. The rest of the EP was done over the course of the next few years in his home office. We used a much better Mac for the remaining songs but it was all done through GarageBand. Every single song was done by the two of us on the fly. Each time, we walked in with absolutely no notion of what to do. Within a few hours' time, the lyrics, beats, and riffs for each song were done, tweaked, and completed.

"From Billsburg To Beyond" by The Chavos is a punk/alternative band that started in the same attic apartment. I recorded a bunch of demos on a Fostex digital 4-track using guitars, bass, a toy electronic drum kit, and a few pots and pans. My hope of using those demos to find others to play with was dashed quickly as I hooked up with people on Craigslist who didn't follow through. A Craigslist ad that said "You Don't Need A Band!" led me to a recording studio in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn that was smaller than your average NYC studio apartment. I'll never forget walking in and peering around in search of the rest of the setup! While there was more equipment to use (as well as Logic), the concept was similar- make music quickly and simply. The last track I worked on (below) was recorded in a friend's bedroom studio with a Mac and other studio equipment. For the Chavos songs, I played almost everything except drums with a few contributions from my producers who also helped shape my rough ideas into cohesive songs.

The barriers to entry for creating music have been lowered to allow so many more people to express themselves more creatively. It is vastly easier to put music into the ether than ever before. However, the piece of the puzzle that remains elusive is how to get your music in front of people. One thing that a label does well is to get marketing muscle for its artists. To be honest, I'm not sure how to expose others to these songs. I'm aware of tastemaker blogs, trusted sites, and social media. (As an aside, most of the trickle of traffic to this blog has been through experimenting with Twitter.). All of the tools are in place to empower musicians to create, release, and publicize and as a result, there is a lot to choose from out there. While the means have been facilitated, it still comes down to rolling up the sleeves and slogging it out to rise above the fray. Technology hasn't yet replaced that age-old concept.

D-KEZ “Old Lame Sigh” (unreleased track)

Old Lame Sigh by strayriffs

The Chavos “Turn The Tides”

Turn The Tides by strayriffs


(Click the Down arrow on each track to download.)

Buy D-KEZ "Sylvester Shalom" EP on iTunes or Amazon MP3

Buy The Chavos "From Billsburg To Beyond" on iTunes or Amazon MP3 

Spotify

I suppose there's really no need for a formal review of Spotify as there is a ton of information out there that I don't need to regurgitate. Ever since I was able to use the Europe-only version I've been clamoring for the day that I could register for a full-blown US version. When Spotify finally arrived on our shores I ditched my invite to the free version for the full-on paid Premium plan. Is Spotify worth all of the hype? I can say “Sure...more or less.”

Spotify addresses rather effectively the #1 problem I have had ever since I've had the desire to carry music around with me- you can't carry on your device everything that you have at home. This has been a problem from the days of the boombox all the way up to the iPhone 4. I remember when the first portable MP3 players came out and I was blown away that I could now carry 256 MB of music around with me! Storage capacity has exploded exponentially since those days but not to the point where my problem could ever be solved effectively. Enter Spotify. I've been blown away by the magnitude of music that's available on here. I've been able to stump it a few times (more on that later) but with a super-easy interface, I can scratch almost every musical itch in seconds with file quality that beats the pants off using YouTube as a radio. Spotify is like having the coolest jukebox in the universe at your beck and call no matter what device you're using.

The other thing I love about Spotifty is the social media capability. Some of my Facebook friends have incredible tastes in all kinds of music. Spotify allows me to hook into their playlists and see what they've curated and with the click of a button, those songs are now part of my collection. Also, if I want to turn someone on to a band, all I need to do is drag and drop a song to them so they can check it out. Sure beats burning and uploading MP3s. One thing that really excites me about Spotify is the potential to create a playlist of music I've recorded and uploaded via Tunecore, share it with my Spotify friends, and then see who might discover it via their playlists. It's a bit of a stretch but the capacity for viral growth definitely exists.

As for the “more or less” part. Frankly, I did not expect Spotify to address my dream list of a music service, at least not upon US launch. Here are the things that stick out for me. Most are minor and some are not within the control of Spotify:

I'd like to be able to stream from my Mac to my stereo

Other than paying $25 for something like AirFoil, there's no easy way to stream Spotify to remote speakers as I can do with iTunes and AirTunes. I'm sure this is more about Apple keeping their technology as closed as possible but I hope Spotify solves this one.

Once you stop paying, you lose your songs

You could spend a great deal of time developing your Spotify presence but once you decide to bow out, your music is lost forever. This has always been the issue with streaming subscription services.

I can't search by label

I asked Spotify about this on Twitter and will be happy to update this when I hear back from them. While most people could care less who's selling them Jay-Z or Justin Bieber, a lot of hardcore music fans keep track of record labels in the same way that sports fans track stats of their favorite teams. I would love to be able to see everything that Spotify carries by Matador, Yep Roc, Merge, etc. It's a great way to be turned onto music that I might like but don't know about yet based on the vibe of a particular label.

Not all of my favorite music is available on Spotify

I was able to find one song by Dead Moon, one of my favorite bands. In all fairness, the Itunes Store and Amazon MP3 don't carry much Dead Moon either. Not that I'm some high-falutin' music snob but I listen to a lot of music that is “left of the dial”. I'll still have to buy vinyl and download free (legal) MP3s that artists put out there.

I'd love to be able to search for playlists

Other streaming services like Mixcloud and 8Tracks allow you to search for playlists by genre and other keywords. Granted, these services are designed for that purpose. It would be so cool for me to be able to search for playlists from strangers who make their lists publicly available.

It's not discovery-based

This one hit me while I was flipping through vinyl in a neighborhood record store to escape the NYC heat. Spotify, like iTunes, seems to be designed for those who know what they want. You enter the name of an artist or song, and you're presented with your results (if your selection is available). If there was a way to be presented with suggestions based on what I've already selected and/or starred, you would always have something new to explore. While I was at the record store flipping through the racks, I was struck by how digital music has, by design, rid itself of the curation and discovery that has traditionally taken place in the neighborhood record store. Some services like eMusic have done a great job of sifting through an immense catalog to present you with bands you've never heard of but who might be the favorite band you haven't heard of yet. With Spotify, you're brought to the front door and left to your own devices. It can be overwhelming. Over time, what happens once you've found everything you can think of? Netflix does this very well and hopefully Spotify will follow suit.

[UPDATE: I've since found the Related Artists area of the interface.  D'oh!  Also, I've been checking out Spotibot.  While not an official Spotify site, it's still a very cool way to discover music.]

**

With all of that said, I'm very stoked that Spotify has arrived and would recommend it to anyone who is even a casual music fan. It will be very interesting to see how Spotify develops and where it will take the music industry. It's an exciting time for technology and for the biz. The game has officially changed.

Gigantic

There's been lots of talk on the cyberwaves in recent days about online music. The Spotify launch is certainly at the forefront of all of that. I've used it when it was Europe-only and plan to go all-in on the Premium plan when I have some time. For a long time, I've said that the drawback to smartphones and other portable devices is that you can't fit as much as you would like onto your hardware. Streaming music has come a long way in the last couple of years. I've been waiting for a long time to get my hands on Spotify so I can stop syncing music between my computer and my Mac. Now that Spotify is finally here in the US, I've realized that I have so many ways to stream music that I am hardly lacking for things to listen to and I'm not in a big rush to get hooked up. Lately, I've been all over Mixcloud and 8tracks. I love the idea of user-curated mixes of content I've never heard of that's put out there by strangers.

It looks like the doors are being blown wide open both underground and above. For the last two days I've been blown away by the new iPhone app that The Pixies just released. In addition to the expected news and photos, there's a bunch of videos and merch. The killer for me is the fact that you can stream three different concerts- Minneapolis 2004, Manchester 1988, and an acoustic set from Newport 2005. I've been smitten with the acoustic version of “Here Comes Your Man”.

I'm blown away by the power that's now in the hands of the bands. If you think about it, do The Pixies need to work with a record label ever again if they can get their music directly into your hands via your phone? A word of caution is needed here. The reason that The Pixies can do this is that a major label spent a lot of money and energy to make sure that people know who they are. That's not a knock at all-just a fact. Could an unknown band put out an iPhone app and have lots of people check out their music? Maybe, maybe not. I guess the point is that there are tools these days that weren't available 18 months ago. The landscape is shifting quickly.

I wonder what Steve Jobs thinks about all of this...

Fleet Foxes

I just finished a run of about six years in jobs related to the music business. Despite the enviable perk of having access to tons of free music available at any time, I found myself becoming increasingly disinterested in new bands. Much of what I encountered left no impression on me once the last song of an album faded out. I concluded that perhaps I'm simply at that age where music doesn't do for you what it once did. I've figured that the days of feeling swept away and living in anticipation for a band's next offering were now done. On most occasions, Band X will sound exactly like Band Y from the 70s, Band A will resemble Band B from the 80s and so on. Fleet Foxes, via their current release "Helplessness Blues", has restored my faith in the idea that a current band can have the power to transport you away from yourself while also holding up the mirror to reveal truths that you thought no one else could point out clearly.

"Montezuma", which opens "Helplessness Blues"' is a plaintive reflection on maturity and changing values with vocal harmonies that evoke Brian Wilson. The album is replete with meditations on past relationships and the search for personal identity. "Battery Kinzie", with its basic tom-tom foundation, is a hypnotic tale of a relationship quest that wasn't fulfilled as hoped. The opening lines of the title track are an admission of changing values with an honesty about being unsure of where change will lead:

I was raised up believing

I was somehow unique

Like a snowflake distinct among snowflakes, unique in each way you can see

And now after some thinking, I'd say I'd rather be

A functioning cog in some great machinery serving something beyond me

But I don't, I don't know what that will be

I'll get back to you someday soon you will see

This uncertainty becomes more vivid in the stripped-down shuffle of "Someone You'd Admire":

I walk with others in me, yearning to get out

Claw at my skin and gnash their teeth and shout

One of them wants only to be someone you'd admire

One would as soon just throw you on the fire

After all is said and after all is done

God only knows which of them I'll become

The songs on "Helplessness Blues" are not delivered from the vantage point of someone who's young and ready to take on the world. Instead, the sentiments expressed are from someone who's further along on a life journey and has traveled far enough to look back as a person who's evolved along the way. The intimacy and honesty of these songs are easily accessible to those who are walking their own paths imperfectly without all of the answers they hoped would be easily available. "Helplessness Blues", with it's combination of echo-drenched vocals and sparse yet ambient folk leanings, makes you feel like you're sitting in a cozy old church enveloped in the scent of musky incense.

When The Change Was Made Uptown And The Big Man Joined The Band

I just read online that Clarence “Big Man” Clemons passed away due to complications caused by the stroke he suffered earlier this week. Surely, there will be many things written by people who perhaps have more insight than I can offer but all I can offer is what I can offer. Having grown up in the heart of Springsteen Country in central New Jersey, my teenage years were filled with E Street Mania from the 10-night stand at the old Brendan Byrne Arena to the 6 nights at Giants Stadium. In the state of New Jersey, Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band have an exalted status.

Springsteen fans are quite aware of the role that the Big Man has played in the folklore of the E Street Band. As the oft-told tale goes, a young unknown Bruce Springsteen was playing onstage in a local Jersey Shore club on a rainy night when Clemons walked in after tearing the club door off its hinges. He asked to sit in and as soon as they played together, they knew that something magical was taking place. Over the next few decades, Clarence was the onstage foil to Springsteen. He was always introduced last with respect, love, and in the spirit of true brotherhood.

The music business these days is so much about building up stars quickly and casting them aside as soon as they hit their expiration date. There's just no place today to witness the evolution and sustenance of the bonds that joined Clemons and Springsteen or, for that matter, the bonds that join Springsteen and the E Street legacy. When I look at the picture above, it seems like more than just a cool album cover. To me, this iconic image encapsulates the Springsteen story: the scrappy Jersey Shore guitar-slinger with romantic visions that were realized with the help of his trusted soulmates. Every time they walk onstage, Bruce and the E Street Band pay tribute to the vision they worked so hard to form. If you're not sure about the dedication of these guys, check out the documentaries about the making of “Born To Run” and “Darkness On The Edge Of Town” and you will see how much devotion these guys put into making Bruce's music come to life. One of the most notable stories is the sixteen hours that Clarence spent in perfecting his solo in “Jungleland”.

They don't make 'em like Clarence Clemons anymore. Fare thee well, Big Man.

Eight Ramones A-Scamming

My part-time bouncer gig was the best job I've ever had. I'm grateful that for three years, I was a tiny part of the history of a grand New York music institution. The job was not nearly as tough as one might think. It might come as a surprise that the best shows for me in terms of crowd behavior were the hardcore shows. The worst moment that sticks out in my memory was being body-checked by the mother of a fan of a big teenybopper band who was hysterical about some minor thing I can no longer recall. Her over-the-top reaction was surely due in large part to the fact that she had been sitting on the sidewalk all day with her kid waiting to get inside and hadn't eaten.

The gig involved standing guard over a velvet rope in front of the VIP/backstage section. A large chunk of my job consisted of repeated variations on politely saying “no, this area is for people with VIP passes” and “the bathrooms are downstairs”. Most people were ok with that but some tried the “don't you know who I am” bit. (The reply of “no, I'm sorry I don't” took the wind out of quite a few sails.) A few others won points for creativity including the 12-year old girl who tried to slip me 5 bucks and the eight guys at a Ramones tribute show who swore they were former members of The Ramones. From working at shows, I now understand why bouncers tend to be terse. After being treated poorly by people who fancy themselves to be more important than everyone else, you tend to become less cheery over time. I tried my best to be polite and accommodating but I'll admit I strayed a few times and apologize to anyone I may have treated poorly.

For those who have tried to weasel their way backstage or who have been overbearing to a bouncer, here's what it looks like from the other side of the rope:

Offering cash to get to the VIP or backstage area brands you as a schmuck with no class and no respect for money.

The bottom line: if the band really wanted your sorry ass to be in the VIP area, they would make sure to provide you with a pass. Bouncers don't give a shit who gets to stand on the “cool” side of the rope. When I was working, the only important thing on my mind was the end time of the show because I knew I'd be home within 45 minutes. Bouncers get paid the same regardless of who is hanging out in the VIP area. An honest worker trying to make an honest buck will not let you in without a pass because he/she is doing his job with the same integrity that you would hopefully maintain at your place of work. The bouncer has nothing against you as he/she doesn't know you beyond the fact that you are Person Without Pass.

Your allegedly unique take on getting past the rope has been heard hundreds of times. As soon as you offer money, it’s as if you’re saying “Look, I’m really just a schmuck who’s not as cool as I would like you to think. I have no connections anywhere and I’m hoping for a piece of glamour to get me through the night”. What struck me as especially appalling about attempted bribes was the fact that I was being offered as much as $500 to sneak people past a velvet rope when there were people sleeping in the streets down the block from the venue.

“No, I am not interested in oral sex from you”

Please note that the bouncer can't leave a post for a quick one as payment for a better view of the show. Also, in this era of STDs, the guy at the rope would have to carefully consider what other superficial thing you are willing to risk your health over and decide if it's worth a roll of the dice to hook up with you. The thought that always struck me at times like these was: once you’ve given away the prize of VIP access for the promise of some action after the show, THERE IS NO MORE INCENTIVE FOR THESE WOMEN TO SLEEP WITH YOU. As those who have let women past the velvet rope can attest, the night will end, you’ll get your “goodnight” hug, and you will go home. Alone. Again.

I don’t have to let you fight with me

One of the best things I gained from the job is the ability to manage potential conflict without the need for escalating words or actions. A life coach friend likes to say that if you don’t throw the ball back, there is no game. When you’re arguing over how important you are when you are turned away, there's nothing left for the bouncer to add to the discussion. My move was to turn my head and slowly walk away, pretending that I was unable to hear the person behind me. It’s silly to argue with the back of someone’s head although a few tried valiantly.

The other thing that worked was to not deviate from the script. When I told someone politely (because that’s how I usually rolled) that I was unable to accommodate a trip into VIP Land and they tried to find some other reason why I should, I would just say “I’m sorry I can’t let you in” each time. It’s difficult to escalate an argument when the other person is not willing to participate. If someone kept jabbering at me, I would throw them my “moron” look that I perfected during my tenure: vacant eyes with mouth held slightly open. I learned that looking stupid really disarms people. With these methods I can say that I avoided conflict about 98% of the time.

For most of the time I was in the job, I was able to shrug off the tiny percentage of irritating people who crossed my path. When it got to the point where petty annoying people ended up taking up space in my head, I knew it was time to hang up the radio and flashlight. We always wish that good things will remain good forever but unfortunately, that wish is inconsistent with the way that life ebbs and flows. Chapters close and chapters open. I'll always remember this particular chapter fondly.

Image courtesy of http://www.worshipperiod.com.

The Pacifics Play Favourites

The original intention behind the Stray Riffs blog was to rap about comics, tunes, and other cool things that I came across. Somehow, things took a turn and became way more introspective than I had planned. Not that it's an issue, but it was time to get a little less serious and a little more fun. Thankfully, I came across The Pacifics from Dublin.

Their EP “The Pacifics Play Favourites”, released on their own label, contains their takes on four old R&B/garage standards. Keeping true to their garage roots, the tracks are all recorded in glorious gritty mono. The EP features crunchy guitars and tight beats throughout and each cut would be a great surprise for your next party playlist. The standout is their re-think of “You Can't Judge A Book By Its Cover” which takes the original's Diddley swagger and brings it closer to the skiffle-punk neighborhood of Billy Childish.

“The Pacifics Play Favourites” is a great little jam for your Saturday night house party or down-and-dirty smoky pub. The physical release may or may not be out but you can stream the tracks and learn more at the links below:

Soundcloud

Facebook

Bandcamp

“¡Gracias a dios por Hollywood Sinners!”

With “Disastro Garantito”, this trio of misfits from Toledo, Spain cranks out 12 greasy retro-garage cuts in both English and Spanish. They dutifully honor the lineage of rock en español that that includes icons like Richie Valens and ? And The Mysterians. In true punk rock fashion, the whole party clocks in at just over 25 minutes with an average song length of barely 2 minutes. Hollywood Sinners rock your ass off quickly and before you've caught your breath, the next cut pulls you by the scruff of your collar back into the fray.

The opening track “No Soy Bueno” kicks off with crunchy guitar and manic rapid-fire drums that will immediately shake you out of your complacent doldrums. The rest of “Distastro Garantito” is a down and dirty barrage that reminds you of being in your favorite dive club with your shoes stuck to the beer-soaked floor. The hip-swinging yearning of “Quiero Una Novia Extrangera” brings it all together along with killer guitar riffs and hooky-as-hell melodies that will still kick you in your ass even if you don't speak Spanish.

In an era where we've lost touch with the beauty of recording raw music with real musicians in tiny rooms, the slam-banging grimy rhythms of “Disastro Garatito” makes you want to exclaim “¡Gracias a dios por Hollywood Sinners!”

Buy it at:

http://dirtywaterrecords.co.uk/shop/product/hollywood-sinners-disastro-garantito-pre-release-discount

Band page:

http://www.myspace.com/hollywoodsinners