when i was little, i watched True Stories in heavy rotation with Pinocchio and Yellow Submarine…its where Radiohead got their name, its where i learned to look and love…david byrne, i love you.
these are all the best parts…but you should go watch it for yourself.

This was a feature I undertook for Clash Magazine two years ago. I didn’t have much on over Christmastime, so I swatted up, reading both Simon Reynolds’ seminal Rip it Up and Start Again and This Must Be the Place: The Adventures of Talking Heads in the Twentieth Century. Both excellent reads for your inner music geek.

The album in question was Speaking In Tongues, not even my favourite Talking Heads record, but it was fun to have the time and scope to look at a record in depth and in its original context.

So when I stumbled across the article on the Clash website recently, it got me thinking that I’d like to do more of this type of writing. Now if I could only find another hour in the day…

If you like Talking Heads you might find it interesting, so here’s the link.

Two-time Tony Award Winning Actress Christine Ebersole knows how to entertain whether it’s Broadway, cabaret, television, or  feature films. On Broadway, she has won two Tony Awards for “Lead Actress in a Musical” for “42nd Street” & “Grey Gardens” and was nominated for “Lead Actress in a Play” for “Dinner At Eight.” She made her Broadway debut in “Angel Street” in 1976. Other Broadway credits include “I Love My Wife” with Joanna Gleason & James Naughton, “On The Twentieth Century” with Kevin Kline and Imogene Cocoa, Agnes de Millie’s revival of “Oklahoma” (where she put her signature on the role of “Ado Annie”), “Camelot” with Richard Burton, Stephen Sondheim’s “Getting Away With Murder,” “The Three Sisters,” “Steel Magnolias,” and “Blithe Spirit.” Off-Broadway, Christine has been honored with an Obie, Outer Circle Critics, and Drama Desk Awards for “Best Actress” in a Musical” for “Grey Gardens” (before it moved to Broadway) as well as an Outer Circle Critics & Obie Award for her performance in “Talking Heads.”

In addition to theatre Christine has delighted audiences on television for over 20 years. During her one year tenure on ABC’s “One Life To Live,” Christine received an Emmy Nomination for her role as “Maxie McDermott.” She also starred on “Saturday Night Live” from 1981-1982. Her numerous guest starring and recurring roles include USA’s “Royal Pains,” “Samantha Who?,” “Cashmere Mafia,” “Lipstick Jungle,” “Law & Order: SVU,” “Will & Grace,” “Related,” “Rachel Gunn, R.N.,” “Ally McBeal,” “Crossing Jordan,” and “Murphy Brown.” Her TV movie credits include “Mary and Rhoda”, “Gypsy” with Bette Midler, “Dying to Love You,” “The Dollmaker” with  Jane Fonda, USA’s “Unexpected Family” and “Unexpected Life”  (both with Stockard Channing) as well as “Double Platinum” with Diana Ross.

Her feature film credits include “Amadeus,” “Tootsie,” “Thief of Hearts”, Billy Cosby’s “Ghost Dad,” “Folks!,” “Dead Again,” “My Girl 2,” “Richie Rich,” “Black Sheep,” and ‘Til There Was You.”

As if theatre, television, and movies weren’t enough, Christine also entertains crowds with her sold-out cabaret shows (many times performing with the one and only Billy Stritch, who is also a fellow “Adaumbelle’s Quest” participant). She has performed in such legendary cabaret venues as Birdland, Feinstein’s At The Regency, The Metropolitan Room, and Cinegrill. Her CDs include: “Live at the Cinegrill,” “In Your Dreams,” and “Sunday In New York” (both with Billy Stritich).

You can catch Christine and Billy in concert together from December 2-5 at Birdland in New York City performing their holiday extravaganza “Town & Country Christmas,” featuring seasonal classics from their past shows as well as some brand-new material. They are sure to sell out fast, so get your tickets now! For more on Christine Ebersole, be sure to visit: http://www.christineebersole.com.

1. What is the highest and lowest note you can sing? Lowest is a D below middle C.  Highest is an E above high C.

2. Do you have any strange or unusual talent that no one knows about? I play the nose trumpet, but everyone knows that.

3. Who is the one person you haven’t worked with that you would like to? Alan Rickman.

4. Who do you consider to be your hero? Luke Rudkowski.

5. If you could dream about anyone while you sleep, who would it be? Paris.

6. What was your first fan encounter like? I don’t remember.

7. If you couldn’t be doing what you are doing now, what career would you choose? Wealthy.

8. Favorite play/musical? “Grey Gardens.”

9. Favorite website: www.wearechange.org.

10. “Mary” or “Rhoda”? They are both friends of mine.

Julian Casablancas a sorti un nouveau (très bon) album, Norah Jones est sur le point d’en faire de même tout comme Charlotte Gainsbourg qui travaille en collaboration avec Beck. Ça aide presque à surmonter la dépression nerveuse due au fait qu’on prend son petit dèj alors qu’il fait encore nuit et qu’on se retrouve dans le noir à 6 heures du soir. J’ai désespérément besoin d’un soleil moins flemmard.

Sinon je suis tombée il y a un bout sur une vidéo assez marrante. Bob Dylan introduit les Beatles à la Marijuana.

Petite playlist

Du Jefferson Air Plane et du Talking Heads parce que cela fait longtemps que je n’avais pas ressorti un de leurs morceaux et que c’est toujours aussi grisant. The Hollies pour ce son un peu saturé et vibrant si particulier au 60’s. Kate Nash et Regina Spector qui ont des styles pas mal différents mais qui toutes deux me font sourire avec leurs petits accents chantants. Les Velvet parce que n’importe lequel de leurs morceaux vous fait vivre un pic des sens pas croyable. Et finalement deux morceaux du nouvel album de Julian Casablancas. D’ailleurs suis je la seule à trouver que Casablancas qui s’essaye à la country (Ludlow) c’est extrêmement troublant?

Kate Nash et Regina Spector

Props to my genius cohort on the Tom Tom Club track. Coincidentally, I was recently reading a little about Talking Heads and discovered Tom Tom Club was an offshoot of the band. Am I the only one who didn’t know this? That shit blew my mind. I guess that’s why it made sense that they played the song during “Stop Making Sense.” (That awful pun was unintentional.) I couldn’t find a video of the song, but enjoy “Girlfriend is Better” below for the hell of it.

Speaking of Talking Heads, there’s a cool exhibit at MoMA right now with archival audio/video/history about seminal punk and new/no wave bands. It’s a continuation of the “Looking at Music” series. Cool stuff from Blondie, Sonic Youth and other usual suspects. Go check it out. Beitch.

Whaha!

Die movekes van David Byrne!

Hierbij wil ik eventjes een soortement ‘ klacht’ indienen tegen die vele bands die allemaal extreem dure lichteffecten verzinnen en energieverslindende podiumartefacten gebruiken.
Want eerlijk gezegd hé, die spasmes van David Byrne, geen enkel lichteffect/satelliet/appartementgebouw kan daar tegenop.

Ja ik weet dat ik nu in mijn eigen vel snij gezien Muse tot de energieverslindende bands hoort.

Leve danspasjes op het podium!

Leve de ‘ Voetsleep’!

Leve het bibberen!

Leve het headbangen!

Leve Talking Heads!

PS; deze blog werd naar aanleiding van de vertoning Stop Making Sense in Trix geschreven.
De films daar zijn overigens een echte aanrader! Ga zeker nog eens op de site kijken!

In one week time our exams will start and what did I do yesterday evening? No, I wasn’t studying. I went to see “Stop Making Sense”, the Talking Heads’ film from 1984 (in Trix, a venue in Antwerp where gigs are held, but there are also repetition rooms to hire and more. You can go watch films like this one there for free!).

When I was a kid and my father, my sister and I went to visit my grandmother, my dad played the live cd-recording of “Stop Making Sense” in the car. The drive to and from my grandmother’s was just long enough to listen all the tracks on it, although my sister and I soon had our favourites (Burning Down The House, because of the syntheziser sounds that resemble (in kid’s ears ) bird sounds; Slippery People, because of the drums and the bass which made it totally shakey.).

So I was very excited to see they performed the songs in 1984, and it was nice to see it was not only te audio on which they concentrated, the show was also visually very beautifully prepared. They start out very simple, and then bit by bit ther’s emore to see and to hear on the stage.

I’m not going to give the whole “plot” away, if you’re interested just go watch it yourself!

You’re on a nationally syndicated news program and an interviewer asks you about something questionable your boss has done. What do you do when the person who signs your paycheck is the topic of conversation?

Do you defend them?

Of course you do. If you can spin their actions with even the slightest positive light, you should. Otherwise, you may lose your job, or lose an opportunity to excel professionally down the road. We all understand how important it is to “tow the company line” when you are operating in an official capacity for your employer.

So tell me this: why, then, would news programs bother speaking with employees of politicians or political groups? Do they expect honest answers that fall in the gray, neutral landscape between diametrically opposed political views?

Nope. They know, as well as you or I, that the opinions expressed will not be of the person being interviewed – the employee, who gets paid to represent the political entity. Media counts on conflict – if two people being interviewed agreed, one of them would be superfluous.

So they get someone from the right, and someone from the left, and they sit them down and ask them questions. And the dude on the right says right-wing stuff, regardless of what he personally believes, and the dude on the left says left wing stuff, even if his honest opinion is more central.

The real truth is that 95% of us fall somewhere between centre-right and centre-left. And no one speaks for us – they preach to the 2.5% on either side, and we vote based on our leanings at the time either for the right wing or the left.

It is a waste of time, really. Politicians work hard to dominate a part of the political spectrum, to speak in absolutes so people can easily recognize where allegiances fall. It isn’t honest, it isn’t truthful…and, what’s more, few people vote right or left so much as central, so it doesn’t boost anyone’s popularity.

Which is why most elections come down to a single issue, or a few “top priority” issues, that fall neatly onto one part of the political spectrum.

My husband and I just celebrated our 27th anniversary. It was on November 24 in 1982 that we eloped and were blessed by a true saint, MahaGhosananda. He was a great spiritual leader of Cambodian Buddhists who lived and taught in Rhode Island for about a decade. He generously agreed to perform our ceremony.

We asked him because he was the only clergyman we knew. My husband’s church– Guiding Star Baptist in Louisville on Mohammed Ali Blvd (formerly Walnut St.), was too far away. I was an ex-Catholic and a disillusioned Pentecostal, with Pagan leanings. I didn’t know that a Unitarian would have done just fine, so I didn’t ask. Not knowing how to find a priest, so to speak, we just went up to the Pope and he said yes.

I may someday know what sort of impression a couple of Americans requesting a wedding might have made on the good people in the temple. We were an interracial couple who were raised Christian and spoke not a word of their language. They accepted us, when so many around us were full of discouragement. Marriage is a leap, and when we joined hands and jumped we had to have faith. So we tuned out the discouraging words and got on the Cranston St. Bus and went to the temple to get married.

After our vows were made– our words in English with kind prayers in Khmer– the people gave us gifts of cash. I was thinking of what it might have meant, in hard-working minimum-wage time, to earn a dollar. It was hard to accept it. It’s so much easier to be Lady Bountiful, easier to give than to accept generosity. Perhaps it was a down-payment. Or a lesson.

After we left the temple we got on the bus and went downtown, to the Pot au Feu. The Pot was the pinnacle of elegant dining in the 80’s, and ain’t too shabby now. We went back last night to appreciate old times.

I’m grateful the place is still there. One lovely thing about Providence, and much of Rhode Island, is that the past is not totally razed. The bulldozers missed a lot of spots. The Custom House survives on its foundation of two-century-old stones. In the foyer of the Pot au Feu, St. Julia Child beams from a black-and-white photo near the door. She’s shaking hands with a youth who strongly resembled the distinguished man in formal dress who came to ask us how we were enjoying our dinner.

I’m grateful for what has not changed. I’m grateful for what has. When I eloped with my sweetheart I was working at a hip photofinishing lab downtown. I was out of my depth as a Rhode Island factory girl thrown in with so many future photogeniuses on their way to fame. AIDS passed through that workplace like the Reaper, taking a tithe of the young by stealth and ambush, the older by despair.

During those years, survivors of the Cambodian genocide arrived in Rhode Island. My own Irish family had preceded them by about a century, fleeing genocide by malignant neglect and an ethnic cleansing carried out via strategic advantage of crop failure . America in the 80’s was in a state of uncertainty. After the end of American war in Vietnam the college students went back to their studies. The draft was over. We had a decade of the Smiley Face. There was a natural and predictable reaction to the ‘nostalgia’ of the seventies.

In the 80’s we all wore black. If you went to buy a sweater or something you would see racks and racks of black. Sister Mary Curmudgeon could have chosen her whole year’s wardrobe at Ann and Hope. Punk was on the radio. Talking Heads was the local band that made the big time. Roomful of Blues and the Young Adults were playing at Lupos. I joined the National Women’s Martial Arts Federation and studied Uechi Karate with Charlie Earle downtown.

I remember November dusk with the glowing windows of the Arcade. I came to know Providence more intimately when I took up the occupation of nursing.

I am grateful to live in this beautiful city. I am grateful to the crazy idealists who named her Providence– who blessed her streets with names like Benefit, Benevolence, Hope and Peace. I’m grateful to be alive and feeling young at an age when Woman would be globally and historically in her old age. It’s an accident of birth, as far as I can tell. I’m grateful to live in the age of instant publishing. So I can throw this note in a bottle out to the world. Very Blessed. Happy Thanksgiving y’all.

Just when I think the collective amnesia of Republicans can’t possibly come up with another blinding example of bullshit, another leftover from the Bush Administration trots out on a talking head tee-vee show and lets loose a whopper of biblical proportions…just like former Bush Press Secretary Dana Perino did last night on GOP apologist Sean Hannity’s show.

Referring to the Ft. Hood shootings and murders, Perino made the claim that… just watch it for yourself:

Yup, you hears her correctly and in case you missed it:

We did not have a terrorist attack on our country during president Bush’s term. I hope they’re not looking at this politically. I do think that we owe it to the American people to call it what it is.

Perhaps even more galling was that Hannity, who sees himself as a super-patriot, didn’t offer the slightest sign that Perino was way past disingenuous.

h/t:  www.talkingpointsmemo.com

Television — Marquee Moon (Elektra, 1977)

New York’s Television came up with the Talking Heads, Blondie, and other familiars from the burgeoning CBGB’s (may it rest in peace) punk and new wave scene of the late Seventies. This band proves just as great an influence on the recent garage rock revivalists (remember the Hives? The Strokes? Radio 4?) as the Velvet Underground, and bears the marks of having honed their chops in the midst of such mainstream legends as the above (as well as bands like The Feelies), while avoiding most of their peers’ excesses and fates. What does surprise and disappoint is that the group unfortunately didn’t get very much of those huge acts’ sales numbers.

On the one hand, you have Tom Verlain’s urgent, quirky vocal delivery, reminiscent of David Byrne, taking the image of the rock frontman head-on. On the other: a sinewy, multi-layered, and often counter-rhythmic guitar attack courtesy of Richard Lloyd and Verlain; the quick-change, driving drums of Billy Ficca paired with the (bong-rattling?) nimble bass of once-and-future Blondie Fred Smith.

For a guitar-based outfit, they were also especially careful to avoid any of the histrionic sloppiness of the punks or distortion-heavy bombast of “dinosaur acts” like Led Zeppelin, while keen to keep the visceral impact provided by a properly-wielded electric guitar. In fact, they even strong-armed producer Andy Johns to prevent him from using any of his trademark Zeppelin recording techniques on their debut album!

These refreshing approaches and modern production techniques make this album a fantastic listen; it’s enduring popularity and yearly appearance on best-album lists make it no wonder that Rhino gussied up and rereleased it in 2004. This is truly at the nexus of jazz-inflected punk and new wave, balanced with a thorough understanding if the perks and pitfalls of cerebral hard rock.

I understand all destructive urges; they seem so perfect. I see no evil. I see Television trivia:

• Guitarist Richard Lloyd guested on an toured in support of Matthew Sweet’s excellent Girlfriend album in 1991.
• These are some of the coolest, most idiosyncratic nerds with guitars this side of The Feelies.

I think that I’ve reached this point in my life where the littlest things make me comforted. I’m not sure if its the routine of having so much to do or if its just age. I’d like to think its a little of both but with me you can’t be sure. The strangest things in my life have affected some of the best change for me.

Right now I am have in bed with Ethan in Baltimore. The rain outside is hitting the thin glass sheets they call windows in my “skylight” inside of the bathroom and we’re just doing work under the covers. The Talking Head’s, “Stop Making Sense” DVD is playing faintly from my computer and I’m just really happy listening to David Byrne croon out the tune “Heaven”. Its almost magical the amount of joy I’m getting from simply typing this blog post, listening to the rain and David Byrne, with Ethan by my side.

I don’t think I give him enough credit at times. He’s kind of perfect for me in that we’re on “vacation” and him and I both manage to have hours upon hours of work that we want to do everyday. What is life without someone that wants to spend it the way you do? Its great being in bed next to Ethan. He looks sexy as hell right now. I love that his hair is wavy and almost curly. That his chest hair doesn’t gross me out but rather intrigues me. The way he looks through his glasses onto his macbook pro with pert lips and furrowed brow. How he nonchalantly can recall random facts about whatever song comes up when he seems as if he’s not paying any attention at all…and subtly touch my thigh to let me know he’s enjoy my company.

Yes indeed I think all I want to do is be here and as I type this very sentence “This Must Be the Place” comes on. (How cheesy?)

conclusion:

For as much as I consider myself worldly, well traveled, or a person that needs to be elsewhere I am at home in Baltimore. People hate on the city but whenever I’m here I’m my best. I have relative “space” from my family. The best friends in the world. A beautiful house that I will never sell…and an overall sense of goodness. That’s right, New York, Baltimore has you bested.

All I want to do is “grow up”—work hard, be in love, and have a life in Baltimore (slash where ever I take my vacation several times a year)— Perks of not having children I guess?

Carousing Facebook yesterday, I came upon this incredible video of David Byrne (from Talking Heads, people!!!) and I couldn’t help but notice a similarity between his large suit, ever changing costumes, and bizarre commentary and the last year of Lady GaGa’s career.

Now don’t get me wrong, I adore GaGa, she’s actually the first pop star I’ve ever felt drawn to watch. Her antics absolutely crack me up, and her performances and videos often times leave me with chills. Simply put, she’s fantastic.

It’s interesting how the artists we love in turn influence the art we make, and I’d be willing to bet Lady GaGa is a big Talking Heads fan. If you look at this interview of David Byrne interviewing himself, she clearly has taken a thing or two from his pure genius.

By the way, minute 2:02 is hands down my favorite moment in the clip.

THIS MUST BE THE PLACE (NAIVE MELODY)

.recorded in 1982 and released in 1983 i wonder as one must if perhaps this must be the place i waited years to leave from the pet shop boys album behaviour released in 1990 was in any way knocking off the title a bit.

.just a bit?

.feet on the ground head in the clouds billboard produced by laurel woodcock.

]]> http://autotunes.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/burning-down-the-house/ Mon, 23 Nov 2009 16:46:43 +0000 mamakitt http://autotunes.wordpress.com/2009/11/23/burning-down-the-house/

The spooky opening notes of “Burning Down the House” grabbed me this morning and forced me to listen. While I don’t have any particular associations with this song per se — other than a Talking Heads phase in college that went hand in hand with an ABBA obsession — I do have associations with houses burning. My mother’s did, when she was a little girl. And my sister’s apartment burned when she was in her early 20s.

In both cases, no one was hurt — physically. But I think escaping and surviving something like that has to be scarring in its way. Beyond the literal effects — possessions destroyed, books and clothes and photos that remain intact but retain the smell of smoke for years, decades even — there has to be a lingering fear, a sort of PTSD. Perhaps a sense of luck or relief, eventually?

It’s odd to be so close to that kind of calamity, but not truly feel it. A close friend and I were talking recently; her brother’s apartment burned earlier this month, and he had come to live with her. She told me how strange it felt, to have his material life so completely altered and hers relatively untouched. How strange it was to talk of everyday things with him while, at the same time, he was trying to figure out how to keep on going.

Fire is a strange thing — I can’t say I know that many people who’ve been through it, but it seems to always hover at the edges of possibility. We are having new windows put in this week, and part of that process involves new insulation in the frames, and all I can think is, does that put us more at risk? As a kid, I used to lie awake at night making a fire escape plan — it was less “stop, drop, and roll” and more which stuffed animals would make the cut after everyone else was safe.

My mother doesn’t talk about the fire unless prompted, and who wants to prompt? But my uncle, her younger brother, once told me all about it. He was little when it happened — 6? 7? 8? — and this was a good fifty years later, but his memories were still vivid. We were in his rowboat on Penobscot Bay, and he rowed along and told his tale, becoming a scared kid whose parents were out for the evening and had to be summoned home, and I wished so much that I had a way to record or memorize it. When we got back on land, I scribbled as much down as I could. But that paper is unlocatable now, stuffed somewhere in a box or a drawer.

So … that’s a pretty perky song, and I’ve now written myself into a screen-staring, sad stupor. I have no tidy ending. I hope I haven’t tempted fate by writing all of this. And I’m so glad that fire, though it has touched my family, hasn’t done more than that.

Tina Weymouth, American musician (Talking Heads, Tom Tom Club)

according to jerry harrison of the talking heads, a principle that shaped the production of the band’s early albums was that each one should be recorded in a different place, in a different way. this quest for each record to embody an “individual quality of sound” translated to a keen awareness of the personality of space, though always held in ambivalent relation with the cityscape that was both impersonal and sometimes unpredictable. a case in point is their 1979 effort, fear of music, recorded in chris frantz and tina weymouth’s rehearsal loft in long island city. while the band grew to love how things sounded there during rehearsals, it was a location that limited them to recording on sundays when truck noise was kept to a minimum.

it’s no wonder then that a track like “cities” would find its way into fear of music, especially considering the strains of paranoia that drive that album. although the song’s topic of finding that perfect city to live was probably inspired by the group’s own love for the city living, it proves to be a futile quest that only results in a more frantic disorientation. it’s something that’s captured best in the alternate version of the song, which replaces the misleading smooth intro of the album version with a jarring siren among a jumble of many other nervous sounds. and when david byrne says he’s figured out the good and bad points of each city, the balance he’s attempting to strike seems to be an illusive one: his exasperation shows as he intermittently admits “sometimes i’m a little freaked out” and increasing sounds like he really is.

disturbingly, in all its imperfections, the very idea of living in the city even with all its horrors is never challenged, just as the disciplined structure of the song mechanically keeps all these sentiments from straying too far. byrne, for one, never abandons his quest to find himself a city to live in, and never considers any alternatives. for me, as someone who’s lived in a city all his life and who’s never lived anywhere else, i can say i pretty much identify with all of that. - dan.

mp3: talking heads – cities (alternate version)

“The medium is the message,” Marshall McLuhan.

Check out what happened when “Sarah Barracuda” decided to dip early on over one hundred of her faithful who had been waiting around all day in the cold snowy rain for her to autograph a book that she didn’t write:

The problem with populism, obviously, is that there’s too many people involved!

Hi gang, this will be my first in what I’m sure will turn into a series of music recommendations. As I’ve mentioned before, I’m an avid — even rabid music fan, and like many music fans, I love nothing more than turning people on to new music. It doesn’t necessarily have to be “new” as in current — I’m equally happy to recommend something from the 70s as I am to recommend something current. That said, today’s recommendation is for an album that just came out!

Are you excited?! I am!!

OK, so I’m taking somewhat of a risk with this first recommendation. The band is pretty obscure and may also be somewhat of an acquired taste. That said, I love love love them! The band is Lambchop (not to be confused with Lambchop), an ensemble band that came out of Nashville in the 1990s (here is a link to their MySpace). They’ve been with Merge Records since 1993, and they’ve just released a live album recorded at XX Merge (XX Merge was a blowout for Merge’s twentieth anniversary as a label). This album opens with a mellow piece from the band’s first album, I Hope You’re Sitting Down/Jack’s Tulips, and contains tunes all the way through their most recent studio album, OH (Ohio). Lambchop’s live show is impressive (I saw them at SXSW in 2006), with the ensemble band, and their tunes really come to life — by the end of this disc, I guarantee you’ll be dancing!

Lambchop used to be somewhat associated with the alt country movement, which is best exemplified, IMHO, by bands like Uncle Tupelo (now two separate bands: Son Volt, which has stuck with the alt country thing, and Wilco, which has matured way beyond it), but I think the association had more to do with their being from Nashville than anything else — though with some of their earlier stuff, you can hear it more.

Lambchop’s music, like a lot of music I like, is not easily pigeonholed. Some of it is better classified as soul than country, though it is all extremely soulful — and it’s not country soul in the Dolly Parton/Jenny Lewis sense…it’s just….well, it’s hard to explain. I think of Lambchop as fall music, which is somewhat ironic for a band from Nashville.

Their singer, Kurt Wagner, not to be confused with Kurt Wagner, used to be a working stiff like the rest of us. So the story goes, he worked as a carpenter, installing and sanding down floors, even after the success of the band’s sixth album, Nixon, in 2000. Here is a great piece about Kurt and the band from a few years ago.

I was introduced to this band in 2004 when David Byrne, one of my favorite artists (I’m deliberate here in my use of that word) and the former frontman of Talking Heads, covered Lambchop’s “The Man Who Loved Beer” on his album Grown Backwards. For the Talking Heads fans among us, you will smile and enjoy Lambchop’s returning the favor around the 3:30 mark on the last tune on this live album (click here for video).

I hope you enjoyed this first music recommendation — it surely won’t be the last!

I went and saw the Dirty Projectors tonight in Williamsburg, and I went in cold. My dear Meags had asked me a while ago to buddy up under the auspices of whiskey and music, and since Meags has impeccable taste, I agreed. Not knowing what to expect, it was like: Fluffy made sirens and made them sing Trio Q-sides as if they were covering deep cuts from Remain in Light.

The show was totally amazing. It was the best band I’ve seen live in a while, and their live show was exponentially better than anything I’ve found that they could sit down and auto tune. When was the last time you felt like that?**

This video sort of serves as the anti-apotheosis of strange nomadic gowanus eau de vie, in that no matter how many hofner lutes you alpaca into the wilderness, you’d be better off seeing the Dirty Projectors live.*

I drank the Kool Aid.

*dear and seemingly pure of heart singers Amber Coffman, Angel Deradoorian and Haley Dekle have essentially perfect intonation and make “studio magic” type sounds in person… She crushes this song. No loops, little reverb. For loops: opening band Tune Yards is like Jahan Ramazani’s post-colonial nightmare version of Townsend’s porch party … in a good way.

** note: I didn’t want to dance, I wanted to watch them (specifically Angel Deradoorian’s bangs) with my hand over my heart and thank goodness that a) someone besides CSN&Y remembered three part harmonies and b) that I was alive in this strange world where some people are left handed.

*** “writing about music is like dancing about architecture”~ woodpecker

(Above: Widespread Panic jam with DJ Logic at a 2008 show in Charlotte, N.C.)

By Joel Francis
The Kansas City Star

Call it hippie-hop. The surprise appearance by DJ Logic late into Widespread Panic’s sprawling set at the Midland Theater Tuesday night set both the evening and the audience on its ear.

Singer John Bell may have been claiming “this ain’t no nightclub” during the jam band’s faithful cover of the Talking Heads song “Life During Wartime,” but Logic’s turntables and the mood of the room said otherwise.

Logic’s scratching added another texture to the Georgia-based jam band’s already expansive palate. As the evening’s wild card, he pushed and challenged the Georgia-based jam band to meet his challenge.

Percussionist  Sonny Ortiz responded by soloing around a loop that Logic provided. Keyboard player JoJo Hermann sprinkled some ‘80s synth sounds into his normal B3 repertoire. The result was a jam/rap hybrid somewhere between Snoop Dogg and Ratdog.

The timing couldn’t have been better. The sextet was three hours into their set and had just wrapped a marathon performance of “Hatfield” when Logic -– who was in town for his own engagement at Crosstown Station -– and his turntables rolled out of stage left. Based on the legend of Fort Scott, Kan., Native Charles Hatfield, the song was the biggest moment so far. With the house lights up for the chorus, the crowd enthusiastically sang along.

As the band made its way from “Hatfield” into “Fishwater,” the crowd predicted the number and erupted. What had been bob-and-weave dancing before turned into some serious getting down. After several minutes of “Fishwater,” the group suddenly doubled the tempo kicked into the Heads number. Panic covered the Heads song “Papa Legba” in their first set, but thoroughly assimilated everything but the signature guitar riff into their own monolithic sound. “Wartime,” however, felt and sounded like the second coming of “Stop Making Sense.”

Although nothing topped their half-hour with Logic, there many other memorable moments throughout the night. A marathon reading of “Diner” primed the pump for “Hatfield.” Hermann channeled Billy Preston during a medley of the instrumental “Disco” and the song “You Should Be Glad.” Earlier in the night, he applied Stevie Wonder’s clavinet sound to “Worried.”

“Barstools & Dreamers” started with a slap bass and slide guitar intro and drew the first signs of fervor. Bell unleashed a guitar solo in that number that sounded like his instrument was strung with barbed wire. The instrumental “Party at Your Mama’s House” was the product of acoustic and slide guitars, slap bass and buoyant percussion. It felt like sipping lemonade on the back porch then kicking a soccer ball around on the beach.

Tuesday night was the band’s first two shows in town, and the Midland was far from sold out. Although the floor was packed, there were acres of empty seats in the balcony. Panic probably could have packed the house by playing a one-night stand, but brevity and efficiency seem to be less important than passion and ability.

When the band finally said good night, they had been performing for nearly four hours (including a 40 minute intermission). Anyone wanting more would have to wait another 20 hours until the start of tonight’s show.

Setlist:
Better Off, Little Kin; Worried, Gradl; Barstools & Dreamners; Jack; Lil’ Drums; Papa Legba (Talking Heads cover); Party at Your Mama’s House; Ribs and Whiskey. Intermission. Let’s Get Down to Business; Disco;  You Should Be Glad, Diner; Hatfield; Fishwater (with DJ Logic); Life During Wartime (Talking Heads cover, with DJ Logic); drum solo (with DJ Logic); Fishwater (with DJ Logic). Encore: Nobody’s Loss; Fixin’ to Die.

“The world was moving

she was right there with it

and she was…”

- Talking Heads

I have many photographs that capture a distinctive moment in time…the day, the feelings, what was going on around me.  But this is that only photo I have that has a specific theme song.  From the moment I saw this picture, all I could think of was a Talking Heads song.

I was eight months pregnant and Amelia & I were doing a Mother-Daughter/Maternity photo shoot at a park in Hiram, GA.  Near the end of the shoot Pam (who left CNN to create Paris Mountain Photography) suggested that Amelia hop on the Merry-go-Round.  Amelia held on and I (with my giant belly) pushed the merry-go-round around as fast as I could run while Pam sat in the center snapping pictures.  We all laughed at the silliness of the scene (and laughed even harder at the looks we were getting from onlookers).  At the same time, I was was thinking “Wow, this is going to be a great picture.”

I love that she’s there, practically glowing, as the world spins behind her.  If I wanted to get really deep, I’d get into how this is a commentary on the modern world- how society rushes around and it’s only children who are innocent enough to slow down and enjoy life.  Or maybe I’d talk about how it’s a representation of my daughter’s life at that time-  the world was spinning around her, chaos was about to come with the arrival of her baby brother, yet she continued to just hold on and smile. 

But in the end, it’s just a great picture that reminds me of a great song.

*While writing this I learned that David Byrne wrote this song about a girl he knew in high school who would take LSD and lie in a field beside a Yoo Hoo factory.  Maybe not the most appropriate song to represent  a 3 year old….but catchy nonetheless.