Grachan Moncur III – Evolution
Might be the find of the year. All mood. Reminds me of Walt Dickerson’s Impressions of a Patch of Blue, in that way—just incredibly evocative. I’d never heard much from Moncur, a trombonist, except I knew he recorded quite a bit for Actuel. Pair that “out” aesthetic with some of the best from the Blue Note roster—Jackie McLean, Bobby Hutcherson (in full Out to Lunch mode), Anthony Williams, longtime Sonny Rollins bassist Bob Crenshaw and Lee Morgan, of all people—and this is an engaging winner. The title track in particular is timeless.
Marion Brown – Three for Shepp
Right after Brown died, I surprisingly found used copies of Afternoon of a Georgia Faun, Geechee Recollections and Three for Shepp at the record store. I love the autobiographical undertaking of the first two, but for pure listening pleasure, this one’s the winner, with the aforementioned Grachan Moncur on trombone and liner notes which posit the question, with a straight face, “Can white people play jazz?”
Reggie Workman – The Works of Workman
Not too many people can record solo upright bass records, but I figure anyone who played on Olé Coltrane is allowed this indulgence. Workman has the tone of three oxen and the conception of a carburetor; he’s not always running at full potential but sounds incredible.
John Lewis – The John Lewis Piano
I’m into Andre Previn, but John Lewis brings a European classicism to jazz that’s unequalled. A lot of people remark about soloists, “they make it sound so easy.” Lewis makes it sound easy to sound hard, and then makes that gossamer. The Sophia Loren of jazz records.
Grant Green – Green Street
Sometimes it’s all about finding the right record. Or maybe it’s about not finding the wrong record; the first Grant Green album I heard was The Main Attraction. You can see why I might have been turned off to the guy for a while. Such a relief to discover his other work; and have my mind forcibly changed. This record walks crowded sidewalks, and all others get the fuck out of the way.
Freddie Hubbard – Polar AC
I was waking up to 1970s jazz this year, but in actuality this record is on the list solely for one asset: the Ron Carter bassline that kicks off the title track, which has been lodged in my head for months. (I asked Edgar Meyer earlier this year which bassist he looked up to most; “I am glad that Ron Carter is still alive” is all he could say.)
Ron Carter – Uptown Conversation
Speaking of Ron Carter, I picked this one up at a store in Augusta, Georgia in the spring. “Doom” is incredible, but the entire thing is worth seeking. It’s gotta be hard to be Ron Carter and have people ask you, “So which record of yours should I buy?”
Quartetto Basso-Valdambrini – Walking in the Night
Found a pair of reissues by this Italian post-bop group on Dusty Groove and I couldn’t stop playing them for weeks; they’re reminiscent somewhat of Miles Davis’ Jazz Track. Just very cosmopolitan and cool.
Francois Rabbath – Multi-Basse
This man’s Bass Ball is one of my favorite jazz records ever, completely ahead of its time. One day, it will see a reissue on Warp (in quite a few ways, it’s the original drum ‘n’ bass record) or Revenant (probably a more suitable label) and be regaled by the multitudes at last. It was nice to find another album of his dizzyingly creative, if slightly less fearless, works.
Horace Silver – The Jody Grind
Especially because of the go-go girls on the cover, I figured this’d be more “Song for My Father” soul jazz stuff. Instead, it’s my current favorite Horace Silver record, somewhere beyond late ’60s boogie and emerging into its own, with Woody Shaw and James Spaulding.
The Great Jazz Trio – Collaboration
I love Someday My Prince Will Come and was glad to find this, from the same 2002 sessions with Elvin Jones. Hank Jones was a living miracle.
Dizzy Gillespie – The Greatest of Dizzy Gillespie
It seems silly to put a Best-Of on this list but damn if RCA didn’t do them right. I have The Popular Duke Ellington—re-recordings, no less!—and I listen to it much more than the so-called cream-of-the-crop Webster-Blanton stuff. This Dizzy record truly is his best stuff under his own name, a great reminder of his prowess. I adore the cover photo.
Noah Howard – The Black Ark
Originally on Polygram! Which is like Hell Awaits being played on KZST or something. Violent and snarling. Pick up this reissue while you can.
Henry Threadgill – Rag, Bush and All
SFJAZZ booked him this year, and though I couldn’t go, I hope ticket sales were strong enough to bring him back soon.
Sheila Jordan – Portrait of Sheila
A nice little vocal trio album on Blue Note, who didn’t much release vocal albums. This record is marred only by “Dat Dere,” whose lyrics are so asinine they’d make Tracy Byrd cringe.
Gunther Klatt – Strangehorn
Not all Germans play like Peter Brotzmann, and this record—a tribute to Billy Strayhorn—is a nice breath of invention. Finding it in the dollar bin, I was charmed by the credits: “Dtae: July ’84. Cut: Uwe Clemens. Producer: Gunther Klatt. Reason: Don’t know.”
Ran Blake – Plays Solo Piano
Of all instruments, the piano is the most infinite. Ran Blake plays compositions by George Russell and Ornette Coleman alongside “There’ll Be Some Changes Made” and “On Green Dolphin Street” and makes it all appear as if from the same mind. A good early ESP disk. (Speaking of ESP, did you hear the incredible story about Giuseppi Logan, who was presumed to be dead, discovered last year playing “Begin the Beguine” in Tompkins Square Park?)
Contraband – Time and Space
The cover gives it a prog look but this is full-on jazz, played by an only slightly “rock” band. Epic, who put out albums by Ruby Braff, Dave Pike and Dave McKenna, was obviously going for some San Francisco-sound thing with this signing. I’m glad it doesn’t resemble Santana.
William S. Fischer – Akellare Sorta
Originally recorded in 1972 and possessed by Basque witches and psychedelic chemicals. Fischer worked with Roberta Flack, Les McCann and Wilson Pickett and then dropped off the deep end with this insane recording. Reissued by a label in Barcelona.
Booker Ervin – The Freedom Book
You know how, like, you heard the name Sonny Rollins a lot but always took his existence for granted until BAM! it hit like a ton of bricks and you bought everything he recorded? (Sam Amidon’s I See the Sign from this year has a wonderful and tangential little blurb about Rollins in the credits.) This year, Booker Ervin’s mortar splattered all over my consciousness. Of all the “Book” titles that I committed myself to finding after stumbling across The Blues Book from last year’s jazz discoveries list, I play this one the most.
Ricky Ford – Manhattan Plaza
Jaki Byard and Dannie Richmond? Yes, thank you. Manhattan Plaza is a government-subsidized building that’s served as a home to jazz musicians over the years; read about it in this fine article. Samuel Jackson was a security guard there. Charles Mingus and Dexter Gordon lived there, as well as Tennessee Williams, Mickey Rourke and Alicia Keys. New York is crazy! Ricky Ford lives in France now, it seems.
Henry Franklin – The Skipper
You won’t likely find another album with the song title “Beauty and the Electric Tub” in your lifetime, nor will you find a better album on Black Jazz Records, in my opinion. The story of the label, and how it came into the hands of the current owner, is pretty fascinating. This past February, the label’s best-selling artist Doug Carn appeared at Yoshi’s for one night only with other artists, billed as “Black Jazz Reunion.” These days, Franklin plays at a hotel lounge in L.A. every Friday and Saturday night.
Dollar Brand – The Children of Africa
“I am not a musician,” writes Abdullah Ibrahim on the back of this LP. “I am being played.” I saw him last year and he played one seamless, hour-long song. It seemed like he was being played. No one else sounds like him.
Byard Lancaster – Sounds of Liberation
Philadelphia, 1972. Solid bass lines. Somewhere the spirit of this record is in The Roots, pre-sousaphone, before they started doing shit like this.
It’s been a while since I’ve dusted off this old flexidisc record and played it—12 months, to be exact.
In December, an annual tradition of mine is to listen to “Dinosaur Christmas Song,” credited only to “Coddingtown Center.” For those who grew up in Santa Rosa, it’s truly one of the strangest Christmas songs in existence, telling the story of how the very first Christmas ever took place on the land now known as the Coddingtown shopping mall. It does a horrendous job at connecting Christmas and commerce, but I look at it through the eyes of one like, say, Stan Freberg, who railed against the commercialization of Christmas. Would not even Stan be charmed by the surreal absurdity of the British narrator, the female chorus, and the incessant groaning of dinosaurs in the background?
Many years ago, right when I started at the Bohemian, I decided to try and track down the origins of this record, which I discovered in 1994 at Goodwill for 35 cents. The article took me to Coddingtown in Santa Rosa, Hugh Codding’s main office in Rohnert Park, local commercial recording studios, radio stations, Montgomery Village and more. Read all about it here.
Or, if you’re so inclined, click the player below and be transported to a very strange moment in local history. At this point, after becoming an annual tradition, it’s one of my favorite Christmas songs. Enjoy.
New “ROCK” Night Club coming 2011 $ Guarantee (rohnert pk / cotati)
Date: 2010-12-16, 9:28AM PST
Reply to: [email protected]
Here is the GREAT DEAL~~~ I pay all band members $1.00 per hour. If you have a 10 piece band all you guys make $10.00 bucks an hour. PLUS I supply dinner (chips & pretzels & all the soda for free) This is Guaranteed CASH FOR ALL YOU Musicians: No cover no pay to play///this is a deal of the century. Look for Jaco’s Club coming in 2011.
- it’s NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
1. LCD Soundsystem – This is Happening (DFA/Virgin)
2. Yellow Swans – Going Places (Type)
3. Jóhann Jóhannsson – And in the Endless Pause There Came the Sound of Bees (Type)
4. Robyn – Body Talk Pt. 1 (Konichiwa/Interscope)
5. Titus Andronicus – The Monitor (XL)
6. Standard Fare – The Noyelle Beat (Bar None)
7. V/A – Welcome Home (Diggin’ the Universe): A Woodsist Compilation (Woodsist)
8. The Velvet Teen – No Star (Self-Released)
9. Jack Attack – My Rights Have Been Violated (Self-Released)
10. Jason Moran – Ten (Blue Note/EMI)
11. Nicki Minaj – Pink Friday (Young Money/Universal)
12. Goodriddler – The Strength of Weak Ties (Sell the Heart)
13. Grouper / Roy Montgomery – Vessel (Self-Released)
14. RVIVR – S/T (Rumbletowne)
15. Marco Benevento – Between the Needles and Nightfall (Royal Potato)
16. Hanalei – One Big Night (Big Scary Monsters/Brick Gun)
17. Superchunk – Majesty Shredding (Merge)
18. Hearse – Diagnosed (Self-Released)
19. Sam Amidon – I See the Sign (Bedroom Community)
20. M.I.A. – Maya (Interscope)
21. Evan Parker & John Weise – C-Section (PAN)
22. Daniel Bjarnason – Processions (Bedroom Community)
23. Flying Lotus – Cosmogramma (Warp)
24. Joseph Hammer – I Love You, Please Love Me Too (PAN)
25. Best Coast – Crazy for You (Mexican Summer)
Kim Hill is not a household name, and she likes it that way. But for five years, Hill sang with the Black Eyed Peas before quitting over pressures to go more mainstream; they then found the treachery that is Fergie, who would eventually propel them to become the shittiest group in the universe.
Hill moved back to South Central a while ago and keeps a blog about her neighborhood. I appreciate her insights and thoughts on race, poverty and feminism, but I must admit they’re made stronger knowing where she’s been. It’s a reminder of where the Black Eyed Peas came from, and the type of hopeful thinking they so cynically abandoned. Read it here.
Even if the Wronglers were the worst band in the universe, I’d still want to go to their show this weekend, worm my way up front and give a standing ovation to every song simply because of the group’s frontman, Warren Hellman. Hellman, as many may know, is the lovable billionaire who’s made the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival a reality in San Francisco for over a decade, at no charge whatsoever to the hundreds of thousands of fans who attend the world-famous event every year.
Luckily, the Wronglers aren’t just decent, they’re downright good. But don’t try to tell that to Hellman.
How did you learn the banjo?
Well, first, don’t assume that I’ve learned it! I’ve always loved banjo music, probably for the worst reasons. I’ve loved listening to Earl Scruggs and those guys, but even worse, I’ve always loved listening to the Kingston Trio. Everybody tells me that I shouldn’t admit that, but I like their music, I like their banjo playing. I’ve always liked this kind of music, and I tried to play it for three or four years. I didn’t play it for about 30 years, and now I play as much as I humanly can for the last 10 years.
I heard a rumor you tried to get Pete Seeger to give you lessons at one point.
What happened was pretty straightforward. I was 28 years old, I thought I was an important investment banker, and it took me a long time to realize that “important investment banker” is an oxymoron. So like most people learning to play this type of banjo—that is, old-time double-thumbing—I thought, “Why don’t I take lessons from Pete Seeger?” I’d bought his book, and what I’d learned so far I’d got from his book. So I started trying to call Pete Seeger, and of course he never returned my call. Finally this guy called me and said, “Mr. Hellman, I am Mr. Seeger’s manager. What do you want?” I said, “I’m Warren Hellman, I’m at Lehman Brothers, and I’d really like to take lessons from Pete Seeger.” And he said, “Well, I’d like to hang up.”
Why did you wait so long to debut your banjo playing at the festival?
First I wanted to have some idea that I could play again. It was three or four years after I started taking lessons again. And we’d formed the band. It just seemed to make sense. By the way, you understand that this is the original pay-to-play. I’m putting on the whole goddamn festival so my band can play for 30 minutes on opening day!
How often do you guys get together to rehearse?
Hourly. Ron Thomason from Dry Branch Fire Squad said, “You guys rehearse more than any band I’ve ever seen or heard anywhere.” I said, “Yeah, but look at how far we have to go!” We rehearse twice a week, sometimes for four or five hours. All the rest of the musicians have gotten really good. All but one. Which is why I don’t even introduce myself when we’re playing.
How does it feel being asked to play shows apart from the festival now?
I keep saying that the best moment of my life was when we played in South by Southwest last year, and the day after we played, I was sitting listening to Buddy Miller when a guy comes up and taps me on the shoulder and says, “Hey, aren’t you with the Wronglers?” I said, “Shit, man, for 40 years I was an investment banker, and not one person ever recognized me anyplace.” The guy said, “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. What’s your name?” I said, “Man, you’ve just made my life!”
You’re such a hero to all the performers at the festival. Are they still heroes to you?
One of my partners was on a television show a couple weeks ago, where it was him and Bill Gates and Warren Buffett. Somebody said, “Does that make you jealous?” I said, “No, but if he was on a show with Earl Scruggs and Doc Watson, that’d really piss me off.” I know this sounds too gushy or too starry-eyed, but I think the nicest collection of people I’ve met in my life are all these performers. I don’t know. Maybe because it’s such a tough way to make a living or something. I was in the nastiest, most competitive business that you could imagine for a lot of years, where not only did most people dislike their competitors, they even disliked the people they worked with!
You’ve been an investment banker, an athlete—both are pretty demanding. Is playing bluegrass just as intense and challenging?
Oh, yeah. I’m 76. At 86 I might be mediocre. But the deeper answer to that is that I really believe that you should have something you do in your life where you’re capable of improvement. I’m never going to run as fast as I did, I’m never going to ski powder the way I did. Everything else, as you get older, you try to preserve what you did, and you can’t. So having really started playing banjo ten years ago, there are signs—not very many—but there are signs that I can improve. Have I bored you to tears?
No! I look forward to seeing you in Petaluma—anything special worked up?
They said to us, “This is a Christmas show, you oughta do a Christmas song.” Of course what they’re expecting, I suppose, is “Silent Night.” But we’ve written our own song. The opening line is “Sweet baby Jesus, if only you knew / Just what your birth would lead us all to.” Do you think we’ll be in trouble in Petaluma with that?
Warren Hellman and the Wronglers with Arann Harris and the Farm Band play ‘The Big Give Back’ on Sunday, Dec. 12, at the Mystic Theatre. 21 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. 6:30pm. $10 with two cans of food; $15 otherwise. 707.762.3565.
This is only news to me because I had cynically decided Nicki Minaj’s record would be terrible about eight months ago. I knew the formula, or so I thought: artist puts out a few mixtapes, gets a couple high-profile verses, scores big with critics for something that sets them apart and then goes to record a proper album that crassly exploits those distinguishing features or somehow manages to make them sound completely unoriginal. At least that’s how I thought it might play out.
The first time I heard Nicki Minaj, I was fairly blown away. Then I looked her up and found this. The title of every song she’d guested on thus far sounded like a headline from Penthouse Forum. This brings up age-old issues about feminism in rap and the need to use sex as a foot in the door to get the real issues across; most realize swiftly that sex can be used instead of it using you, especially in the pursuit of sales and page views. When “Bed Rock” hit, I knew that Minaj had just built a career on the line “I think it’s time I put this pussy on your sideburns” in the same way that Ke$ha got famous by waking up and feeling like P. Diddy.
I also decided that her record would be terrible, because there would be too much money thrown at it, and that usually ruins everything. And though Pink Friday sounds plentifully funded, it doesn’t strip Minaj of her basic character—or, I should say, her multiple characters. She still ends lines by spewing like a barking dog (a la guess who’s playin’ Freddy), she still inhabits a persona for two seconds before abandoning it (British aristocrat, southern belle), but the varied production of the songs means that she doesn’t have to overcompensate with a scattered delivery.
Yeah, the thing’s fuckin’ filthy. It’s also hella clever and fun. Without Googling, I hear samples from “Video Killed the Radio Star,” “Don’t You Forget About Me” and “Scenario.” Eminem is an idiot on “Roman’s Revenge”—really, “no homo” in the year 2010?—Rihanna’s uber-inspirational on “Fly” and the production on “Did it on ‘em” lurks addictively. Not to mention that “I’m the Best” is an outstanding way to start an album: verse one humble (“I made a couple mistakes”), verse two trailblazing (“I’m fighting for the girls that never thought that they could win”) and wrapped up with a choice lift from Beyoncé (“all my bad bitches, I can see your halo”).
Oh, shit, and people in Japan don’t speak Thai. But that’s okay, and old Barbie World news anyway. The record’s still good.
I heard from quite a few people about a short piece I wrote on Grouper a few months ago, and though I’ve expounded on her music plenty, I’ve always been equally enamored with her artwork. ‘Divide’ is a book of Liz’s drawings that just came out via Root Strata, and it’s a fantastic collection of everything I love about Liz’s art: fine lines and finer ideas.
Some art I enjoy because it seems effortless, but more often, I love swimming through the process. Following Liz’s meticulous detail is like poring through ancient government documents: There’s a lot of hard fact there, but it requires lateral sight to place in understandable context.
‘Divide’ comes with a DVD, which I’ll watch after the book sinks in. In other words, 2023. You can order a copy here.