Yes, it is another theme week, and a Theme Week of Excellence. It was also one that many of us founding challenging (which makes it a metaphor for all of our lives with Dave Kelley). Here is the assignment as laid out by the esteemed DK:
"There are so many ways that we can experience music, but my favorite by far has always been a great live performance. Not only can the band or artist flesh out and expand the music they have made in the studio, but the communal sense one gets from sharing the experience with others can often be wonderful. The Frank Turner show some of us saw in January 2017 on the same day as all of the women's marches was absolutely cathartic and a candle in the darkness of the Trump Inauguration. Seeing Bruce and the E Street Band for the first time on The River tour is a great memory I will always have. We have all been lucky enough to see fantastic concerts by many amazing artists over the years. I am assuming that, like myself, we have all missed out on other shows that would have been amazing. I decided not to see Pearl Jam in a small club in Cincinnati before they blew up and became hugely popular. I also passed up an opportunity to see The Talking Heads on their Stop Making Sense Tour. What a fucking idiot.
So, what band or artist would you choose to see and during what period of time. Show your work."
And this seems like a perfectly apt question considering that today I spent a glorious Vermont afternoon in a downtown park with KA, KS and PS enjoying the Vermont Discover Jazz Festival. As the esteemed DK opined the other night on Facebook, life is pretty sweet when we aren't actively trying to fuck it up.
I
passed up a few chances to see the Replacements in concert over the years,
scared off by their reputation as wildly erratic live performers, and I regret
that now. Apparently, they could be the best or the worst band in the
world, depending on what night you saw them. I wasn't interested in being
subjected to a crappy show, but I wish that I'd taken that chance now. It
would have been worth the roll of the dice to see them at their best. No
video for this song, just audio of a live version of Bastards of Young.
Wade in the Water (https://www.youtube.com/
I’m going a little rogue with this theme week
while staying in the spirit of the theme. I’ve always been a fan of spirituals
and know their origin as songs sung by slaves. If I had a time machine, I
probably (honestly) wouldn’t WANT to go back in time to when slavery in the US
existed, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it if I had the option. As a
white person, the shame I feel for how my race has treated, and continues to
treat, others is overwhelming at times. We say “white people suck” with some
frequency in our house and I try not to be a sucky white person, although I’m
sure I fail at times. I don’t even identify fully with my race although I
admittedly enjoy its privilege.
My song this week is not by a band in a
venue, but the spiritual Wade in the Water, used as a tool by the
Underground Railroad to give slaves direction for escape. I not only love the
music itself and can hear its influence on the blues (another genre I listen to
with frequency), but I love that it outsmarted the slave owners and helped the
oppressed to their freedom. How incredibly clever to encode instructions and
directions in songs, and how ironic so many of the spirituals were about Moses
and the slavery of his people. Music is both a communication tool and outlet
for emotion, and the spirituals are the perfect marriage of those two things.
"There are so many ways that we can experience music, but my favorite by far has always been a great live performance. Not only can the band or artist flesh out and expand the music they have made in the studio, but the communal sense one gets from sharing the experience with others can often be wonderful. The Frank Turner show some of us saw in January 2017 on the same day as all of the women's marches was absolutely cathartic and a candle in the darkness of the Trump Inauguration. Seeing Bruce and the E Street Band for the first time on The River tour is a great memory I will always have. We have all been lucky enough to see fantastic concerts by many amazing artists over the years. I am assuming that, like myself, we have all missed out on other shows that would have been amazing. I decided not to see Pearl Jam in a small club in Cincinnati before they blew up and became hugely popular. I also passed up an opportunity to see The Talking Heads on their Stop Making Sense Tour. What a fucking idiot.
Of course, we have not been able to see other wonderful shows because we were too young or not yet born. I would kill to see a James Brown Show in the 50's or 60's. The same would be true of Marvin Gaye, Jimi Hendrix, Elvis, etc.
So here is my idea for the next theme week. You are presented with a time machine and the opportunity to see any live show at any point in history. It could be Mozart giving a recital, The Beatles at a small club in Hamburg, Bruce on the Darkness Tour, Robert Johnson in a 1930's Mississippi juke joint, or Louis Armstrong in the Big Easy. It could be Neil Young and Crazy Horse from earlier this week.
And this seems like a perfectly apt question considering that today I spent a glorious Vermont afternoon in a downtown park with KA, KS and PS enjoying the Vermont Discover Jazz Festival. As the esteemed DK opined the other night on Facebook, life is pretty sweet when we aren't actively trying to fuck it up.
Dave Wallace
A
very interesting theme for this week's blog, and I've spent too much time
considering it. I've been lucky to see a number of artists at what is
generally considered their live peak: Springsteen on the Darkness tour,
Talking Heads on the Stop Making Sense tour, R.E.M. following
the release of Life's Rich Pageant, Prince touring behind Purple
Rain, and Lucinda Williams on the Car Wheels tour.
All of these shows left me with the same feeling - when there, you knew that
you were witnessing something unique and special. When thinking of shows
I wish I'd seen, here are some of the ones that come to mind:
James
Brown - There Was a Time
I
saw James Brown in the '80s and really enjoyed the show. Much of his act
had devolved into shtick by this point, but he still was a dynamic live
performer. Yet, I know that it was nothing close to his heyday when he
may have been the greatest live act in the history of popular music. The
video and audio here is pretty grainy and not great quality, but it definitely
gives you a sense of how amazing he was. Brown owns the stage, and his
band is locked into a killer groove behind him.
Bob
Dylan and the Band – Like a Rolling Stone
Dylan
Goes Electric! Dylan's tour with the Band after Highway 61 remains
one of the most important in rock history. A lot of the folk purists were
upset with him for using electric instruments, and the tour was a raucous
affair. The exchange at the beginning of this video where an audience
calls Dylan a "Judas" and he has a few choice words in response is
one of his most famous moments. I'd heard audio of this version of Like
a Rolling Stone before, but I had no idea that there was video of the
performance. Dylan is focused and intense, and the Band sounds amazing
behind him. Interesting side note - Levon Helm elected to sit out the
tour, so there's a different drummer with the Band (who weren't even called
that then).
Sam
& Dave - Hold On I'm Coming
Sam
& Dave were considered one of the great live acts in the history of soul
music, and you can see why from this video. Bonus greatness - their backing
band here is Booker T & MGs, plus the Memphis Horns. Soul music
royalty all around!
Van
Morrison and the Caledonia Soul Orchestra - Caravan
Van
Morrison's tour with the Caledonia Soul Orchestra generally is considered to be
his live peak as a performer, and the live album, It's Too Late to Stop
Now, from that tour is a great representation of its highlights. This
clip is their version of Caravan, one of my favorite Morrison
songs. I have never seen Morrison in concert, which is one of the biggest
gaps in my concert-going experience.
The
Replacements – Bastards of Young
Bob Craigmile
I will go out on a limb and guess that others have (or
thought about) written about the original Woodstock concert as their show from
the past. In contrast to the rules (such as they are, limiting
us to one artist) I think I would opt for the entire weekend. The music!
The Drugs! The Nudity! Mudsliding!!!
I
have watched the movie a few times over the years, at least once in a
theater. For me, the somewhat incongruous lineup (Sha Na Na and Carlos
Santana?) just adds to the charm. I keep thinking of The Who as being so
alive and mesmerizing, with Daltrey swinging that big mic. over the edge of the
stage 15 feet away. Such energy and exultation.
The
performance of Alvin Lee and Ten Years After is just completely insane.
The amount of drugs he was on was just right imho.
The
group Mountain was on that bill; I saw them 8 years later in
Cincinnati with a high school buddy and they were great both times. One
hit wonders perhaps, but still the real deal. Richie Havens also sticks
in my mind as just killing it, and he kept playing as he walked off the stage.
There
is of course the ending set by Mr. Hendrix to consider; there is a point
in his playing where he looks at the camera directly and to me it's absolutely
chilling. He was dead by the time the movie was released I think.
His version of the Star Spangled Banner effectively marked the end of the 60's.
Would
I go to such a thing now? No way; the Bonnaroo festival is just up the
road and I refuse to go. It was hard enough to attend Farm Aid 30 a few
years ago; I'm pushing 60 and one can only tolerate so much. But if I
could attend it in my 20 year old body it would be an easy choice.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ur522xbwoFE
< outtakes, not the movie.
Kevin Andrews
Recently
GS asked me how many concerts I had been to. I had no idea. He asked which was
my favorite. He asks a lot of questions. I’ve saved the ticket stub from just
about every concert I’ve been to. I I have a short list of the most memorable
but I don’t think I have a favorite and certainly not room for it here. All the
stubs go into a plastic ziplok bag. I don’t look at them much, I just
mindlessly add to it.
For
Christmas last year a friend gave me an photo album like book made to hold
tickets. I really wasn’t motivated to deal with them until Dave’s theme made me
dump out the bag last week. First, I separated them by decade, putting them in
chronological order is not going to happen. Many stubs are small and don’t have
the date, just some notes on the back. After counting I put them back in brand
new plastic bags by decade. I counted 144 and I’ve since thought of a bunch
that I don’t have or weren’t ticketed. I’m guessing there should be about 175.
Most shows have two acts, some three or four. I went to the Philadelphia Folk
Festival for a few years where over the course of the weekend you saw six or
seven legit acts each day. It’s probably over 400 artists.
All
that boring crap is just to say there are still shows I would have like to have
seen. Lots of shows. So, what band or artist would you choose to see
and during what period of time. I came up with nine shows, one of which is
what every right thinking person should choose. There is only one answer. Here
they are in order of preference.
1972
Todd R. at the Tower Theater, Upper Darby PA. Home town boy at my home town
theater, I was 12. I remember the mayor gave him the key to the township. I
also remember thinking, as he no doubt did, who the fuck would want that?
1970
Allman Brothers, Fillmore East NYC. Fortunately we have the album.
1974
Little Feat, Los Angeles. Big regret never seeing them with Lowell.
1973
Bruce, Stone Pony, Asbury Park, NY. After The Wild, The Innocent. Before things
hit the fan.
1981
REM, Athens, GA. Changing the game.
1976
Elvis Costello CBGB, NYC. I’ve seen him four times since, I doubt with that
much energy.
1934 Django Reinhardt and Stéphane Grappelli, The
Hot Club Paris. This is why they called it the Hot Club.
And
the correct answer, 1967 Jimi Hendrix at the Monterey Pop Festival. Just
add lighter fluid. In fairness to other guitar players he was playing two
instruments, the guitar and the amplifier.
Phillip Seiler
This
theme week was a struggle for me. I was fighting against two truths. One, there
are almost an infinite number of good choices to this question. Two, when I was
discovering my musical identity I didn't much care for live music. I preferred
the clean, perfected sound of a studio recording. It didn't help that most of
my early concerts were mid-stadium sized events of mainstream bands (Chicago
& Moody Blues come to mind.) The first show I saw that broke me out of this
thinking was Suzanne Vega. Ironically it was her opening act, Richard Thompson
(!!!) that opened up my appreciation of what a live show could be. He basically
came on stage and asked for requests and then played them. I would love to go
back and experience that show again because I was unaware of Thompson's music
up to that point. But that will not be my choice here.
Instead,
I will take my machine and go back to some random date in the mid 50s to catch
whatever show is at Birdland. (I am sure that I am suffering from some recency
effect here as Kathy and I just saw the Blue Note documentary film and Jazz
Fest has just begun in Burlington.) I might stay a few days just to make sure I
catch someone legendary. Or not. I mean it would be great to be at the show
where Blakey recorded "A Night At Birdland" but we also have those
records so it wouldn't be strictly necessary. I love randomness and often just
trust to luck to dump me where I need to be, hear what I need to hear, see what
I need to see. It is probably a terrible life strategy. But as near as I can
tell all life strategies end in the same basic way.
So
maybe I would catch Clifford Brown or Horace Silver or Stan Getz or somebody
time has forgotten. Maybe Frank Sinatra or Marilyn Monroe or Jack Kerouac would
be in the audience. Or maybe it would just be a bunch of folks from Jersey for
a night in the city. Since I have the luxury of knowing where I am and why it
is so essential to our collective musical history, it would be enough. That
these musicians were reinventing the most American of art forms as the world
was on fire around them is unfathomable to me. You really can hear the world
and all that is happening in this music and yet it is still so full of joy and
hope.
Admittedly,
it would be amazing to have been there this night:
Kathy Seiler
Wade in the Water (https://www.youtube.com/
I’m going a little rogue with this theme week
while staying in the spirit of the theme. I’ve always been a fan of spirituals
and know their origin as songs sung by slaves. If I had a time machine, I
probably (honestly) wouldn’t WANT to go back in time to when slavery in the US
existed, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do it if I had the option. As a
white person, the shame I feel for how my race has treated, and continues to
treat, others is overwhelming at times. We say “white people suck” with some
frequency in our house and I try not to be a sucky white person, although I’m
sure I fail at times. I don’t even identify fully with my race although I
admittedly enjoy its privilege.
My song this week is not by a band in a
venue, but the spiritual Wade in the Water, used as a tool by the
Underground Railroad to give slaves direction for escape. I not only love the
music itself and can hear its influence on the blues (another genre I listen to
with frequency), but I love that it outsmarted the slave owners and helped the
oppressed to their freedom. How incredibly clever to encode instructions and
directions in songs, and how ironic so many of the spirituals were about Moses
and the slavery of his people. Music is both a communication tool and outlet
for emotion, and the spirituals are the perfect marriage of those two things.
Dave Kelley
I considered a ridiculous number of options here.
Louis Armstrong playing in the Treme, Sinatra backed by a big band, late
sixties James Brown, an early Elvis concert, Muddy Waters in a small Chicago
juke joint, etc.
At the end of the day, the truest answer for me is The
Who in 1970. While I saw them multiple times, they were well past their
prime. And by past their prime, I mean after Keith Moon died. When
he was alive and healthy, they were for my money arguably the best live rock
band ever. What a fucking rhythm section.
I choose 1970 because they had extended their show to
include non Tommy material. While Who's Next is a great record, some or
those songs work better on vinyl than live. That record came out in 1971.
Sticking with my instrumental theme from last week, I
chose "Sparks" which I think exemplifies the best of their
playing.
Alice Neiley
I'm ashamed to say I
haven't been to many live concerts (at least compared to most of you!), though
the ones I've seen have been amazing...Martin Sexton, Aretha Franklin, Nickel
Creek, Al Green, Bobby McFerrin, Earth Wind and Fire, Lake Street Dive, and I
think that's about it, but the one person I would see if I could would, hands
down, be Ella Fitzgerald in her prime. Specifically, her performance in Berlin,
1960, which thankfully was also recorded.
I can't imagine anything more exciting, for example, than
to hear her sing Mack the Knife that night, when she forgot the words and you
could hear her smiling. I wrote about that version of that
song for my first post on this blog, and I'd love to have seen/heard it unfold
in person.
Not only that, she also sang "Misty" that
night, her voice sounding like ribbons, AND she sang "Summertime", a
song that is most accurately performed by Sarah Vaughan, a bit deeper and
grittier, but that Ella manages to slam dunk anyway, AND she sang "Lady is
a Tramp", the irreverent lyrics for which I've always loved and related
to, AND she sang "How High the Moon" and her scat solo was almost
entirely based on Charlie Parker's "Ornithology", a tune which,
incidentally, was based on chord changes in "How High the
Moon"!
I mean, can you REALLY get better than all that,
live?!?
Cindy Morgan
This
is a tough assignment and I have been giving it the deep think for 2 weeks. My
knee-jerk response was the Prince "Purple Rain" tour because it was
probably the only concert at that time that I really wanted to see and didn't.
And now that Prince had gone to the great purple
beyond and I missed that chance way back I definitely regret it even
more. I was pretty lucky growing up in Los Angeles with fairly
permissive parents who let me see tons of shows. Permissive might be a
euphemism for "naive," or perhaps "kept in the dark." Lots
of memories of spending the night on the sidewalk outside Music Plus on Pacific
Coast Highway in Hermosa Beach waiting to buy tickets for shows then going to
The Palladium, the Forum, Irvine Meadows, the Greek, the Colosseum (U2!!!) for
shows. . . I digress.
!!!CLICHE
WARNING!!!
If
I could see any piece of music performed live at any time I would teleport back
to 1824 Vienna for the premier of Beethoven's 9th symphony. Yeah. I know. Total
cliche. But. . .what must it have been like with him there conducting next to
the guy who could actually hear and was really conducting? Hearing what it was
MEANT to sound like on the instruments of the day with the timing he intended?
I think everyone there knew he was deaf and yet had written this soaring and joyful
piece of music. The first symphony with a chorale--I mean what must people have
been expecting? How did they process it once they had heard it? It's not like
they could download it and listen to it again on their phones. Luckily he gave
it that catchy melody. . . To see a completely new and revolutionary
addition to the genre--and a piece that always has the power to bring me to
tears--well, cliche or not I'm sticking with it. Also: who wouldn't want to see
Vienna in the 1820s?
Gary Scudder
Like most of you (one of the
advantages/disadvantages of hosting this discussion is that I see all the posts
before anyone else) I struggled with this week's question, which, in my mind,
makes it a good question. Of course, this is me speaking as a professor
who believes that if my students don't leave the class every day questioning
their grasp on reality then I've failed in my job. In the end there were
three obvious choices:
Drive-By
Truckers with Jason Isbell. What I'm about to say is heresy, I know, and
I will be shouted down by many on this blog, but I'm actually generally OK with
Jason Isbell not being part of Uncle Tupelo anymore. Mainly, I guess I’m happy
for his sobriety and his happiness, but he’s also too talented of a magician to
be limited to only two songs an album. Truthfully, every album that
he get further away from his DBT days I think his efforts get weaker, whereas
the Truckers keep producing great music and putting on fantastic shows (I’ve
seen him solo twice – and loved it both times – and have seen the Drive-By
Truckers twice – and I thought they were simply better; although, to be fair,
seeing them in an intimate venue like Higher Ground is always better than
someplace like the Flynn). Having said all that, I can’t imagine what it would
be like to have seen them together before he went his own way. Here’s a live
performance from Richmond from a dozen years ago of Outfit. “Don’t ever say your car is broke.”
Miles Davis (who ARTI know was
the greatest genius of the 20th century) was a part of many great
groups, but it’s hard to imagine that he was ever part of a better group – or that
any jazz musician was ever part of a better group – or maybe any musician
period was ever part of a better group – than the one that is associated with Kind of Blue: Davis on trumpet, Julian “Cannonball”
Adderley on alto saxophone, John Coltrane on alto saxophone, Bill Evans on
piano, Paul Chambers on double bass, and Jimmy Cobb on drums (Wynton Kelly
played piano on Freddie Freeloader on
Kind of Blue, but that doesn’t relate
to the theme question). Jazz has become
incredibly important to me and I listen to it well over half the time that I
listen to music anymore. The thought of
seeing THAT group in its prime is more than a bit overwhelming. I’m including a link to a really rare live
recording featuring the Sextet, although Red Garland is listed as the pianist
when actually it was Evans. About half-way
through My Funny Valentine kicks in
and it’s pretty epic (although, truthfully, I don’t think it’s nearly his best
recording of it). I’d love to have seen
them play most of the songs off of Kind of Blue mixed in with a few standards
such as My Funny Valentine or Stella By Starlight.
OK, so how do I top those two choices? Well, my first choice will hardly surprise
anyone. It’s hard for me to imagine that
I’d want to see anyone more than Neil Young backed by Danny Whitten-era Crazy
Horse. I think that set this apart is
that there’s an emotional attachment here that the first two choices simply can’t
match. While I love Miles Davis and the
Drive-By Truckers I was introduced to rock by Young and the thought of being
transferred to that time – and that age – is simply something that artists from
a later period of my life couldn’t possibly match. MK and I were talking about this question a
couple weeks ago and he made the excellent point that your age will determine
your choice, and he’s completely correct.
It’s not like later Crazy Horse couldn’t blow it out – this version of
Like a Hurricane is just about the most incendiary song imaginable – but Crazy
Horse was certainly much more of a band when Whitten was alive. Here are a couple great examples: Down By The River and Cowgirl In The Sand.
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