The Americana Music Festival is now less than a month away, and I will be returning after a several year hiatus.
While the festival is turning the big 1-0, its award ceremony has only been around for 8 years. This year, the AMA will be celebrating the lifetime achievements of bluegrass progressive Sam Bush, western swing revivalists Asleep At The Wheel and ace producer Jim Rooney, who has helmed works by John Prine, Iris DeMent, Nanci Griffith and more.
The evening showcases offer an array of interesting Americana acts – and of course it’s own share of logical dilemmas. For example, who to see midnight on Wednesday night – Raul Malo, the Deadstring Brothers or Charlie Robison, all artists I’ve written about but never seen. Or what about Saturday night, when Webb Wilder, Buddy Miller and the trio of Nanci Griffith, Mary Gauthier & Elizabeth Cook are all performing at different stages.
So there will be quandaries like those to resolve as well as just seeing how my legs and general stamina holds up.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Hey, Hoge
It was a real treat to see Will Hoge perform earlier this week as he passed through Los Angeles for an early set at the Mint. A treat because it reminded me what a terrific, if over-exposed roots rocker he is. It was also good to see that the Nashville-based musician was still just alive and kicking after being hit last year by a van while he was riding on his scooter. The main consequence of this accident – at least in this show - just seemed to be that he sat down more than he used to.
But the music was still as strong as ever. On his electric numbers, he conjured up the spirit of a younger Bruce Springsteen, much like his fellow rootsy neo-classic rockers like Marah and Hold Steady. Hoge’s songs this evening, however, favored more relationship-based songs rather than the character-flavored tunes that those aforementioned bands favor. On his acoustic songs, I got to thinking that any of these could be easily picked up by some better known Nashville acts – although they undoubtedly wouldn’t match Hoge’s ragged charms.
Hoge, who looks a little like Law & Order’s Jeremy Sisto, flashed his Southern civility when he complimented the club’s soundman for fixing his microphone during a song, while also serving up a dig at the Troubadour. Mostly it was a night for Hoge to showcase tracks from his upcoming disc, The Wreckage, while also touching on some older songs. He closed his all-too-short set with a Wreckage track “Hard To Love” but Hoge was very easy to love if you are a fan of well-crafted blue-collar rock ‘n’ roll. Hopefully, his new album will give him a well-deserved career boost.
But the music was still as strong as ever. On his electric numbers, he conjured up the spirit of a younger Bruce Springsteen, much like his fellow rootsy neo-classic rockers like Marah and Hold Steady. Hoge’s songs this evening, however, favored more relationship-based songs rather than the character-flavored tunes that those aforementioned bands favor. On his acoustic songs, I got to thinking that any of these could be easily picked up by some better known Nashville acts – although they undoubtedly wouldn’t match Hoge’s ragged charms.
Hoge, who looks a little like Law & Order’s Jeremy Sisto, flashed his Southern civility when he complimented the club’s soundman for fixing his microphone during a song, while also serving up a dig at the Troubadour. Mostly it was a night for Hoge to showcase tracks from his upcoming disc, The Wreckage, while also touching on some older songs. He closed his all-too-short set with a Wreckage track “Hard To Love” but Hoge was very easy to love if you are a fan of well-crafted blue-collar rock ‘n’ roll. Hopefully, his new album will give him a well-deserved career boost.
Monday, July 13, 2009
His Guitar Gently Weeps
When I was a kid, I had George Harrison’s magnum opus All Things Must Pass on 8-track. In fact, it was an 8-track “box set” – with two 8-tracks packaged together. The childhood memories of it stayed strong enough that I never got around to purchasing the deluxe reissue that came out a few years ago.
However, All Things Must Pass returned to my mind the other day after listening to the new EP Tribute To, a sublime six-pack of Harrison songs credited to Yim Yames (aka Jim James from My Morning Jacket). Four of the EP’s six tunes originated on ATMP – “Behind That Locked Door,” “My Sweet Lord,” “Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let It Roll)” and “All Things Must Pass”, with “Long Long Long’ and “Love You To” filling out this short set.
Although James recorded these tunes shortly after Harrison’s passing in 2001, it is only being released now. It’s a spare, simple affair that serves as a loving tribute to Harrison. Somber without being funereal. Typically on these songs, it’s just James and his guitar, with the sound is more aligned to the earlier Neil Young-ish My Morning Jacket than the more recent MMJ style. The arrangements aren’t embellished performances much, but James does add, for instance, a nice touch of banjo to “Love You To.”
But the disc’s gauzy sound well suits the material, as it feels like a stripped down version of Phil Spector’s denser work on the original. You can hear a fan working through his sorrow on the moving renditions of “My Sweet Lord” and the title track, with the inclusion of “Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp,” a very personal song of Harrison’s, is an inspired choice.
The six songs create an emotional mood of reflection and remembrance – from recalling George Harrison and the Beatles on one hand to the reflecting sheer emotional power of music on another. It achieves the nice trick of making you want to go back to hear the original while also appreciating the new renditions.
The EP also makes you wish that the disc were longer, and see how James might have tackled other ATMP tunes, from the well-known ones like “Isn’t It Pity” and “What Is Life” to more personal faves like “Apples Scruffs” and “Wah-Wah.” But it’s always good to leave fans wanting more as opposed to wearing out your welcome, and Tribute To is a welcome arrival for Beatles fans and My Morning Jacket fans, and music fans inbetween
The EP is available now digitally at YimYames.com, while ATO Records officially releases it on Aug. 4. A portion of the proceeds will go to the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary (www.woodstockfas.org) .
However, All Things Must Pass returned to my mind the other day after listening to the new EP Tribute To, a sublime six-pack of Harrison songs credited to Yim Yames (aka Jim James from My Morning Jacket). Four of the EP’s six tunes originated on ATMP – “Behind That Locked Door,” “My Sweet Lord,” “Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp (Let It Roll)” and “All Things Must Pass”, with “Long Long Long’ and “Love You To” filling out this short set.
Although James recorded these tunes shortly after Harrison’s passing in 2001, it is only being released now. It’s a spare, simple affair that serves as a loving tribute to Harrison. Somber without being funereal. Typically on these songs, it’s just James and his guitar, with the sound is more aligned to the earlier Neil Young-ish My Morning Jacket than the more recent MMJ style. The arrangements aren’t embellished performances much, but James does add, for instance, a nice touch of banjo to “Love You To.”
But the disc’s gauzy sound well suits the material, as it feels like a stripped down version of Phil Spector’s denser work on the original. You can hear a fan working through his sorrow on the moving renditions of “My Sweet Lord” and the title track, with the inclusion of “Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp,” a very personal song of Harrison’s, is an inspired choice.
The six songs create an emotional mood of reflection and remembrance – from recalling George Harrison and the Beatles on one hand to the reflecting sheer emotional power of music on another. It achieves the nice trick of making you want to go back to hear the original while also appreciating the new renditions.
The EP also makes you wish that the disc were longer, and see how James might have tackled other ATMP tunes, from the well-known ones like “Isn’t It Pity” and “What Is Life” to more personal faves like “Apples Scruffs” and “Wah-Wah.” But it’s always good to leave fans wanting more as opposed to wearing out your welcome, and Tribute To is a welcome arrival for Beatles fans and My Morning Jacket fans, and music fans inbetween
The EP is available now digitally at YimYames.com, while ATO Records officially releases it on Aug. 4. A portion of the proceeds will go to the Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary (www.woodstockfas.org) .
Sunday, June 28, 2009
The Good Word on Alexa Woodward
I have been intrigued with Alexa Woodward’s new album Speck, so I went to see her perform at her recent Los Angeles appearance at the intimate Genghis Cohen – and it was a very rewarding experience. The banjo-picking Woodward’s songs are like mountain music with an MFA. References to Tolstoy and Harper Lee slip into her dark-hued, old-timey tunes; however, she’s doesn’t sound liked an affected musical anthropologist appropriating native backwoods sounds. Although based out of New York City, Woodward grew up in Virginia and South Carolina so there is an easy naturalness to her rural porch music. An easy reference would be the stripped down Americana styling of Gillian Welch. Hearing her live, I came to appreciate the way Woodward’s honeyed singing voice dips and soars. Her phrasing and harmonizing (she was frequently accompanied on vocals by her washboard-playing sidekick Linky Dickson) also brought to mind to Roches, as did her endearing stage presence. She shared some funny tales of touring misadventures, like trying to sleep in a WalMart parking lot that was blaring Whitney Houston. But what really grabbed me is how her singing and lyrics blend together to make for spare, haunting music. There’s an earthy ethereal quality to tunes like “Window” “Spoon” and “Speck.” After several songs that held murder ballad imagery like “her blood was melancholy” and “a speck of blood for the birds and the bees,” she lightened the tone with the “Plants” (she apparently likes one word titles). This rather upbeat tune, which celebrates her time living in a community house with some 20 other folks, offers that urban gardener rallying cry “plants growing in the city!” With its quiet folksy sound, Speck might be easy to overlook, but Alexa Woodward impresses both in concert and on disc, making her someone for Americana connoisseurs to keep an eye on.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Rosy Times For Rosewood Thieves
There’s a certain sepia quality to the name Rosewood Thieves, conjuring up images of some long-ago gang of western outlaws. While this New York City-based band has some twang to them, their musical roots have mostly been dug up from rock’s golden Sixties. The cover art to their 2006 debut EP, From The Decker House, aped ‘60s era Columbia releases, and the title itself was a nod to the Band’s Music From Big Pink. Listen to their music, and you know that they have spent hours pouring over classic Dylan, Beatles and Band albums, with frontman Erick Jordan’s voice frequently sounding like a Lennon/ Dylan hybrid. Their new EP still finds them foraging rock’s past, but also expanding their musical territory some. Heartaches By The Pound is a terrific little six track EP devoted to the songs of Rock and Roll Hall Of Famer Solomon Burke, and covering the “King of Rock & Soul” proves to be an inspired concept. While you can still hear the Beatles and Dylan influences bubbling up, the band dirties up their sound with a heavier garage pop vibe that’s also supported by soulful grooves. The Rosewood Thieves are one of those bands that can easily appeal to classic rock hippies and young Americana hipsters.
Ripped Review
Ripped
How the Wired Generation Revolutionized Music
By Greg Kot
(Scribner; 262 pages; $25)
"A technological freak-out" is how Pink Floyd's first manager, Peter Jenner, described the current state of the music business at the 2006 Future of Music Policy Summit, and this "freak-out" is the subject of "Ripped," the thought-provoking new book from esteemed Chicago Tribune music critic Greg Kot.
Kot starts by laying out the basics of how the industry's old guard (major labels, record store chains, radio station conglomerates and concert promoters) ineptly fought against the many changes that computer technology (from digital downloading to sampling) brought to music business economics.
He nicely provides an overview of the effects that Napster and iTunes have wrought, revealing various misguided industry tactics such as its self-sabotaging strategy of using independent promoters for getting songs played on the radio to the Recording Industry Association of America's lawsuit against a 12-year-old girl for illegal downloading.
Instead of relying solely on the opinions of music industry insiders, Kot makes liberal use of quotes from consumers to show what the music-buying (or perhaps more precisely "music-downloading") public thinks. It's particularly enlightening to read the "Wired Generation's" attitude about owning music.
One 21-year-old college student asserts that "getting MP3 files over instant messenger is no different than me going to somebody's house and letting them listen to a CD," while a mid-20s zine editor proclaims that "it's to the band's benefit for people to hear their music because we're in a day when nobody buys music unless they hear it first. Because we don't trust anyone, really."
Kot is a music writer, not a business writer or sociologist, so it's not surprising that he's more interested in the musicmakers than the dealmakers. His book's strengths are in his profiles of the likes of Prince and Radiohead and such lesser-known artists as "future shock" composers Gregg "Girl Talk" Gillis and Dan Deacon - all of whom are finding inventive ways to make a mark in today's tumultuous marketplace.
His examination of Montreal's Arcade Fire delineates how the group's DIY rise from obscurity was greatly boosted by coverage from Internet music tastemakers Pitchfork Media.
While the relationship proved mutually beneficial, Kot reveals that the band didn't remain blindly loyal to its early, and powerful, supporter. During the Arcade Fire's breakout year of 2005, the group chose to perform in the larger, more prestigious Lollapalooza over a Pitchfork-sponsored concert for its Chicago-area summer festival date.
Kot also illustrates how the influential band Radiohead masterfully used the Internet to "leak" music and create buzz for its albums long before its landmark "pay what you like" online release of "In Rainbows" in 2007.
Besides admiring the band's innovative strategy (the publicity, for example, also helped concert ticket sales) and the music, Kot points out several shortcomings to the band's online offer (the digital release had a low bit rate, and the name-your-price deal was short lived).
These case studies are all short and succinct, with the book's 250 pages divvied up into 20 chapters. As a result, "Ripped" plays a bit like a collection of singles rather than a full-length concept album. However, Kot seems wise to avoid making grand pronouncements about the music industry's future during these unsettled economic times.
His discussion of Live Nation and Ticketmaster already needs to be updated with their controversial merger plans, and nearly every week there's a story about another performer coming up with a new creative way to launch an album that could serve as chapters in this book's sequel.
However, Kot's years of chronicling the rock world have given him a well-tuned eye for its machinations, which inform this substantive examination of the chaotic music world. By spotlighting a set of entrepreneurial artists who have successfully found ways to connect with their wired audience, Kot offers rays of hope amid the general doomsaying that typically predominates discussions of today's music business.
Michael Berick is a Los Angeles music writer who has written for the Los Angeles Times, Entertainment Weekly and LA Weekly. E-mail him at books@sfchronicle.com. This article appeared on page E - 3 of the San Francisco Chronicle
How the Wired Generation Revolutionized Music
By Greg Kot
(Scribner; 262 pages; $25)
"A technological freak-out" is how Pink Floyd's first manager, Peter Jenner, described the current state of the music business at the 2006 Future of Music Policy Summit, and this "freak-out" is the subject of "Ripped," the thought-provoking new book from esteemed Chicago Tribune music critic Greg Kot.
Kot starts by laying out the basics of how the industry's old guard (major labels, record store chains, radio station conglomerates and concert promoters) ineptly fought against the many changes that computer technology (from digital downloading to sampling) brought to music business economics.
He nicely provides an overview of the effects that Napster and iTunes have wrought, revealing various misguided industry tactics such as its self-sabotaging strategy of using independent promoters for getting songs played on the radio to the Recording Industry Association of America's lawsuit against a 12-year-old girl for illegal downloading.
Instead of relying solely on the opinions of music industry insiders, Kot makes liberal use of quotes from consumers to show what the music-buying (or perhaps more precisely "music-downloading") public thinks. It's particularly enlightening to read the "Wired Generation's" attitude about owning music.
One 21-year-old college student asserts that "getting MP3 files over instant messenger is no different than me going to somebody's house and letting them listen to a CD," while a mid-20s zine editor proclaims that "it's to the band's benefit for people to hear their music because we're in a day when nobody buys music unless they hear it first. Because we don't trust anyone, really."
Kot is a music writer, not a business writer or sociologist, so it's not surprising that he's more interested in the musicmakers than the dealmakers. His book's strengths are in his profiles of the likes of Prince and Radiohead and such lesser-known artists as "future shock" composers Gregg "Girl Talk" Gillis and Dan Deacon - all of whom are finding inventive ways to make a mark in today's tumultuous marketplace.
His examination of Montreal's Arcade Fire delineates how the group's DIY rise from obscurity was greatly boosted by coverage from Internet music tastemakers Pitchfork Media.
While the relationship proved mutually beneficial, Kot reveals that the band didn't remain blindly loyal to its early, and powerful, supporter. During the Arcade Fire's breakout year of 2005, the group chose to perform in the larger, more prestigious Lollapalooza over a Pitchfork-sponsored concert for its Chicago-area summer festival date.
Kot also illustrates how the influential band Radiohead masterfully used the Internet to "leak" music and create buzz for its albums long before its landmark "pay what you like" online release of "In Rainbows" in 2007.
Besides admiring the band's innovative strategy (the publicity, for example, also helped concert ticket sales) and the music, Kot points out several shortcomings to the band's online offer (the digital release had a low bit rate, and the name-your-price deal was short lived).
These case studies are all short and succinct, with the book's 250 pages divvied up into 20 chapters. As a result, "Ripped" plays a bit like a collection of singles rather than a full-length concept album. However, Kot seems wise to avoid making grand pronouncements about the music industry's future during these unsettled economic times.
His discussion of Live Nation and Ticketmaster already needs to be updated with their controversial merger plans, and nearly every week there's a story about another performer coming up with a new creative way to launch an album that could serve as chapters in this book's sequel.
However, Kot's years of chronicling the rock world have given him a well-tuned eye for its machinations, which inform this substantive examination of the chaotic music world. By spotlighting a set of entrepreneurial artists who have successfully found ways to connect with their wired audience, Kot offers rays of hope amid the general doomsaying that typically predominates discussions of today's music business.
Michael Berick is a Los Angeles music writer who has written for the Los Angeles Times, Entertainment Weekly and LA Weekly. E-mail him at books@sfchronicle.com. This article appeared on page E - 3 of the San Francisco Chronicle
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Dropping In At The Drop
I dropped in to the The Drop last night. The Drop is a new, and quite interesting, program at the Grammy Museum. It’s sorta like a musician’s version of Inside the Actors’ Studio or Spectacle minus Costello. Each session has a museum official talking to a musician who has a new album coming out. In the previous week, Nanci Griffith, Rhett Miller and Mandy Moore all dropped in for an evening of talk and music.
Tonight it was Marshall Crenshaw, with the host being the museum’s executive director Robert Santelli, who also happened to have gotten to know Crenshaw “back in the day” when he was a journalist and Crenshaw was the talk of the New York rock scene. Tonight’s conversation, however, focused on his new disc, Jaggedland (429 Records).
A sly conversationalist, Crenshaw did drop fascinating tidbits about his creative process. Like how hearing Rosemary Clooney’s rendition of “Mood Indigo” served as an inspiration for the song “Sunday Blues.” Or how, when collaborating with songwriter Kelly Ryan on “Passing Through,” he eliminated her references to urban life and told her to write about what she saw outside her window in Ireland. He had some cool anecdotes about growing up outside of Detroit, watching Buddy Holly on Ed Sullivan and praising the mostly forgotten ‘50s rock n roller Jack Scott.
Besides the tunes mentioned above, Crenshaw also played other songs from his new disc, which served to whet my appetite for hearing the real thing. After an audience Q&A session, Santelli requested Crenshaw close with the evening with an oldie – “Someday, Someway.” Crenshaw earlier had alluded to early career snafus and how there are some songs that he doesn’t play anymore because hold bitter memories. Happily, the sublime “Someday, Someway” isn’t one of them.
Tonight it was Marshall Crenshaw, with the host being the museum’s executive director Robert Santelli, who also happened to have gotten to know Crenshaw “back in the day” when he was a journalist and Crenshaw was the talk of the New York rock scene. Tonight’s conversation, however, focused on his new disc, Jaggedland (429 Records).
A sly conversationalist, Crenshaw did drop fascinating tidbits about his creative process. Like how hearing Rosemary Clooney’s rendition of “Mood Indigo” served as an inspiration for the song “Sunday Blues.” Or how, when collaborating with songwriter Kelly Ryan on “Passing Through,” he eliminated her references to urban life and told her to write about what she saw outside her window in Ireland. He had some cool anecdotes about growing up outside of Detroit, watching Buddy Holly on Ed Sullivan and praising the mostly forgotten ‘50s rock n roller Jack Scott.
Besides the tunes mentioned above, Crenshaw also played other songs from his new disc, which served to whet my appetite for hearing the real thing. After an audience Q&A session, Santelli requested Crenshaw close with the evening with an oldie – “Someday, Someway.” Crenshaw earlier had alluded to early career snafus and how there are some songs that he doesn’t play anymore because hold bitter memories. Happily, the sublime “Someday, Someway” isn’t one of them.
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