A personal note about connection

When I started writing this blog six and a half years ago, it was really just a way to capture the concerts and albums I was enjoying. What started out as fairly brief write-ups blossomed into longer explorations and a huge influx of new music into my iPod.  Eventually, I branched out into playlists and interviews, most creatively with my Mash Up Summit. Over time, I started receiving lots of music submissions that helped me discover a host of great artists whose music has moved me. Many of these people are not as widely known as they deserve or they weren't when I first came across them: Macklemore, Matt Stevens, Team Spirit, Atomga, That 1 Guy, Bike for Three!, Earl Greyhound... there are more than I can count.

Looking back on this run, I am proud of how I've grown as a writer. That said, this blog grew into a second, unpaid job. To be fair, this has really just been a hobby and I've been well aware that there's not any money in this kind of writing. But I've come to ask myself, what do I want to get out of this, beyond the satisfaction of polishing an 800 word essay? Ultimately, I don't think it's money or fame,but engagement. Connecting with fellow music fans and artists would close the loop for me and make it less of a solitary activity. And there are a few musicians that have been responsive, but the truth is that most of my readers are just finding me by when they google some group or album. They drop in, skim my post, and move on. At this point, I get a little over 1000 hits per month and around zero comments. I don't think that's a flaw with me or my readers; it's just the nature of review blogs and the internet.

I want to find a way to forge a connection with people and I'm not convinced that being a critic is the best answer. Other forms of writing may provide a path or I may focus on sharing my own music. In any case, I'm not shutting down Jester Jay Music, but I probably won't be posting music reviews on a regular basis.

Thanks to all of the creative people who have shared their work with me, to David Harris for letting me write and edit for Spectrum Culture, and to the friendly PR people I've met over the years.

Feel free to respond to this with a comment or message, but I'll understand if you don't : -) Cheers!

Commentary: The show must go on, right?

My recent Nightwish concert review mentioned the drama centered around last week's Denver show.
Heres the recap: Lead singer Anette Olzon fell ill and spent her evening at the emergency. Tuomas Holopainen polled the audience on whether they should cancel the concert. The end result is that the two female singers from Kamelot sat in and Nightwish adapted their set the best they could. Apparently after this, Olzon was upset and believed they should have cancelled the show, because it's not Nightwish without her. Now, Olzon has left the band.

I'm not interested in picking sides or trying to sort out Nightwish's band dynamics in the wake of the split. The more interesting thought is whether Olzon was right about cancelling the show. On the surface, it's a bad idea because it would cost the band a lot of money and good will, both with the audience and the venue. But Olzon has a point that losing a vital player could kill the show.

In the Nightwish case, I voted along with the rest of the audience to let the show go on, even though I was disappointed about missing Olzon's great voice. But how would this play out with other bands, if a key member couldn't make the show that night?

Let's skip the easy ones, like a White Stripes show without Jack White or a single name artist (it's hard to see Peter Gabriel without Peter Gabriel). The band should have a chance of satisfying their fans despite the handicap. But the math gets interesting.

What about Tenacious D without Kyle Gass? Jack Black dominates the duo with an outrageous personality. But Kage brings an understated balance to the show that grounds Black's exuberance. While I'd love to see JB do a solo show, it wouldn't be Tenacious D without Gass. Similarly, it would be hard to stick it out with OK Go if Damian Kulash or Tim Nordwind had to cancel.

A mathematical approach would suggest that each member could be assigned a score and if they were subtracted from the band's total, the show should be cancelled if the remainder would be too small. But the Tenacious D and OK Go examples bring up a kind of synergy, created by the interaction within the band.

In those examples, losing the front person/lead singer would certainly kill the show, but losing another strong personality in the band can still make the handicap too big. On the other hand, if there's enough charisma or magic still there, it could tip the balance the other way. Seeing King Crimson without Adrian Belew would be a disappointment, but I'd stay for that show. ...And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead would still be worthwhile if Conrad Keely couldn't make it.
As I sit here thinking about different examples, the one that surprised me the most was the Rolling Stones. If I were at at Stones concert and they announced that either Mick Jagger or Keith Richards wouldn't be there, would I stay for the show instead of getting a refund? For most, the answer seems clear: if Mick's gone, it's not the Rolling Stones at all. Many if not most would feel the same about Keith. But the more I wrestled with this one for myself, I settled on the non-intuitive result: I'd stay if either were missing, in part to see how much of the magic remained.

Which bands come to your mind and where would you draw the line?

Commentary: Look for the union label

Amanda Palmer embraces controversy. Whether it's rooted in an attitude of "no press is bad press" or  righteous indignation, Palmer is always willing to stir the pot and see what rises. In 2008, she incited her fans against Roadrunner Records, claiming the label tried to censor images of her stomach in a video ("The Rebellyon"). Most recently, Palmer has squared off against musicians' unions over her invitation to amateur players to sit in with her band during her tour.

Photo by Lucid Revolution

There's no irony lost, with Palmer's band even called the Grand Theft Orchestra. Raymond M. Hair Jr., president of the American Federation of Musicians, sees her invitation as a case of larceny, saying, "There ought to be compensation for it [playing]." Her success crowd funding her latest album, Theatre Is Evil, has stoked the criticism against her. After raising so much money, people wonder why she's not paying these musicians if she thinks she needs them.

Without diving into a deep discussion of labor law, a big part of the conflict comes from the difference between unionized professional musicians and rock band culture. The unions are defending their profession, seeing Palmer's invitation as a way to avoid paying "real" musicians, except with beer, high-fives, and hugs. In their view, amateur musicians willing to work for free are a threat to professional musicians making their livelihood. This contrasts with how things work on the rock side. In clubs all around America, there are plenty of rock bands playing for free, not even getting the hugs. In some cases, the bands are even paying to play.

Here in Ft. Collins and along the Front Range, there are plenty of talented amateurs happy to play for free. Sometimes, they're doing it for the exposure and a chance to build a fan base. Other times, they're just happy for the opportunity to reach an audience and get experience. I've played gigs for fun, for bar credit, or even just the chance to collect tips. I agree with the unions that musical performance has value and should be compensated, but I also understand the market economics in play.

Ultimately, though, this controversy is a bit contrived. Reading over Palmer's blog post, she makes it clear that these guest musicians are only sitting in for a couple of songs or so (although the string quartets may be playing a little more). Rather than taking advantage of these people, I think she's trying to create excitement among her fans and make each show a special event. This fits with her Kickstarter success: Palmer has formed a strong bond with her fans, providing many chances for collaboration online and in real life.

Still, whether she intended it or not, Palmer clearly pissed off a lot of people. Amidst the firestorm, she's followed up to state that in some cities, like New York, she will be paying these musicians. Whether she's placating her critics or acknowledging union power in those places is almost irrelevant. The net result seems to be that the union folks and their supporters were all trolled or stoked the issue themselves. Despite the rancor, I think Palmer is the clear winner on this one. Her tour has gotten a lot of free publicity and there seem to be plenty of musicians happy to join her.

Update:
 Amanda  Palmer has announced that she'll start paying the musicians who sit in with the band, including those from earlier in the tour. Now, we can all kiss and make up.

Musings - Communication: verbal and non-verbal

I went back to Florida this summer and had the chance to sit in with my brother's band. I was mostly adding guitar, but Mike did ask me if I could play bass on one song, The Boys Are Back in Town. While my bands tend to focus on originals, my brother reminded me that their cover was pretty close to the original version. So, I listened to Thin Lizzy a lot, looked up the tab, and practiced until I could reproduce Phil Lynott's bass line.

I mentioned to my brother that I assumed they were playing the song in the original key of G#. "No, I think it's G," said Mike. Uh-oh, time to reevaluate. Transposing wasn't too bad, I just had one spot where I'd be playing an open string instead a fretted note.

A day or so before I headed to Florida, my brother sent me the setlist along with key signature notes. The Boys Are Back in Town was there but he had it listed in C! Time for a crisis email: Ahh, Boys in C? Are you playing G - Am - C on the chorus? Nope, those weren't the chords. He sent the charts and a YouTube link and all was clear.

It turns out they weren't doing the Thin Lizzy song. The Busboys also had a fairly popular song with that title. It could have been really strange if we hadn't cleared this up before the set!

On the surface, this points out the importance of communication in music. We could have avoided a lot of stress and work if Mike had simply sent me the recording or a YouTube link. At a more general level, I've been in plenty of bands that would have benefited from simple clarity about goals, expectations, and creative direction.

But there's a deeper lesson here about managing expectations and creative chaos. We caught our misunderstanding before the gig, but what if we hadn't? The two songs are radically different, so I would have known from the very beginning that I was in the weeds. The Busboy's track is a simple blues jam, so I would have been able to adapt easily, just watching the drummer to cue the punches. After a brief panic, I would have been completely in the moment, picking up on the changes and surrendering to the song.

So, communication is key, but over the years, I've found myself in musical situations that defied my expectations. It's why I prefer to play with people who can listen, adjust, and save the song. Sometimes, this chaos can push a song into a radical new space that opens up a rich set of creative expression.

Lately, I've had some informal sessions with a friend who plays violin. I've been swapping between bass and guitar. My drummer just joined us this week. We share similar goals (a mix of improv and arranged material, some plan to play publicly sometime). But when we're playing my songs, I try not to direct her violin playing. In this case, I want the music to communicate to me and tell me where we should go.

Commentary - Golden Summer

This seems to be the year for Golden Anniversaries. The Rolling Stones unveiled their new logo for the occasion. Shephard Fairey's design decorates a version of the classic tongue logo.

The other big 50th is the Beach Boys reunion tour. Remaining founders Brian Wilson, Mike Love, and Al Jardine, along with longtime member Bruce Johnston, got back together to release That's Why God Made the Radio, which released last month. 1985's The Beach Boys was the last time Wilson recorded with the band.

Given the history of confrontations between Wilson and Love over the years -- Wilson's deterioration from drug use and mental problems, Love's sense of ownership of the Beach Boys name and legacy, and the several lawsuits between them -- it's a pleasant surprise to see them get back together again. Brian Wilson has already demonstrated his recovery with a return to recording and performing over the last decade or so. And Love is...

Well, Mike Love is much the same. He's happy to be performing with Wilson again and the boost it offers, but the business side of the Beach Boys looms large for him, too. He's talked about the ridiculous cost and logistics of the reunion tour and he's also continued to book his more streamlined version of the Beach Boys for fall shows. This has led to some confusion about which band is getting booked, with at least one venue canceling a show because it wasn't the reunion tour.

Wilson is staying above it all, focusing on the fun of connecting again. This is really why anyone still cares about the Beach Boys. Wilson played the delicate artist with a gift for emotional connection, in thrall to his love of the music. Love kept the band together and in focus, to create a legacy for Wilson to rejoin. The magic was a joint effort.

Random notes

At heart, I'm an old school album guy. About the only time I put my iPod into shuffle mode is when I can't decide what to listen to. Once something comes up that grabs my ear, I usually switch over and listen to the album. Still, I thought it would be interesting to turn on the shuffle and see what the music fates would deal me. Here's a random sampling from my collection (13143 songs right now).

Power - MC Paul Barman (Thought Balloon Mushroom Cloud)

Cock Mobster was my introduction to the clever rapper MC Paul Barman and his album, Paullelujah!. It was a long wait for his follow up, Thought Balloon Mushroom Cloud.

Like his earlier work, it's his rolling flow and quirky perspective that sells the song. Power's lyrics riff on Robert Greene's The 48 Laws of Power, but with rhymes:

Six: So, court attention at all costs
If people don't talk smack then you're a small boss
Fall across the lime light
And even when I'm wrong, I'm right.
Why fight?

You Can Leave Your Hat On - Randy Newman (Sail Away)

I've always preferred the original to Joe Cocker's cover version. Randy Newman evokes the dimly lit bedroom, with its peeling wall paper and a big man who knows exactly what he wants. The simpler arrangement of piano and vocal get to the personal heart of the song in a way that Cocker's slick R&B arrangement misses.

Burn - Robert Bradley's Blackwater Surprise (Blackwater Surprise)

Blackwater Surprise was the first album introducing blind street performer Robert Bradley. Paired with a younger band, the album is full of funky neo-soul anchored by Bradley's voice. The band is solid, with some good funky grooves, but Bradley's vocals are like well worn corduroy. Burn is a fairly representative track. Funky bass, bluesy guitar drive, and a nice horn arrangement all keep the tune rolling forward while Robert Bradley's vocals casually hit their mark.

Monday - Wilco (Being There)

A solid track from a strong album. Being There signaled Wilco's intention to move away from their alt-country roots. Monday lays down a retro Rolling Stones groove that lets Jeff Tweedy toss out a stream of conscious story song. Take out the horns and you can hear hints of the noisy rock that Jay Bennett would bring to Yankee Hotel Foxtrot.

Poison Pushy - Stanton Moore (III)

Virtuoso drummer Stanton Moore is adept at blurring the lines between jazz, funk, and experimental. This track features Robert Walter's lush organ and Will Bernard's smooth, singing guitar. After laying down a bluesy funk groove, the tune slides into a beautiful interplay between these three strong voices as they dance around each other like gymnasts.

Epochs in Dmaj - Caspian (Tertia)

Such a contrast with Stanton Moore.. The soft beginning sets up a figure and then builds upon it. Like an underwater vista, the sound opens up with strings and echo before pixelating into the void. This track is really just an interlude between the majestic climax of Malacoda and the dense crush of Of Foam and Wave.

Manchmal Haben Frauen... - Die Ärzte (Runter mit den Spendierhosen)

Ah, I'm glad Die Ärzte came up. This German band bridges punk, pop punk, rock, and pop. Many of their tracks are as simple as the Ramones, but this one is more subtle and moody. Their lyrics are often clever (figuring them out pushed me to develop my German skills).

In this case, it's a story song about a sensitive new age guy sitting through a chauvinist lecture at the bar ("sometimes, women like a little spanking"). When he comes home to share his chagrin (and slight curiosity) with his girlfriend, she knees him in the crotch and tells him that guys like him always get what they deserve. German slapstick at its finest.

Commentary - Strange collaborations

Recently, I heard Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne talk about recording (and almost tripping) with Ke$ha and I started thinking about strange collaborations.

Photo credit: QThomas Bower

This tickles the same neurons for me as odd covers (like Steve Lawrence and Edie Gorme covering Black Hole Sun) or funky mashups. Taking two extremes and tying them together can lead to interesting new ideas. Whether an artist stretches into new territory or drags something back into their home base, the novelty can spark creativity.

Artistic collaborations add egos to the balance. Which artist will dominate? Or will they find a new common ground? When David Byrne and Brian Eno partnered for My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, Eno's experimentalism meshed with Byrne's rhythmic focus. Robert Plant and Alison Krause's Raising Sand pushed each performer to expand their styles.

On the other hand, Metallica's work with Lou Reed, Lulu, proved less successful. Collaboration doesn't always create good art, but it's still interesting.

This just whets my appetite. There are plenty of undiscovered collaborative opportunities. Imagine producer and musician Steven Wilson (Porcupine Tree) working with a guitarist like Richard Thompson. Thompson is an exceptional folk and jazz guitarist, but he has chaotic darkness that occasionally slips out (e.g. Easy There, Steady Now or Psycho Street). His work with experimental guitarist Henry Kaiser suggests that his voice could find a place in a post rock soundscape. Harness Thompson's playing to Steven Wilson's sense of tone and psychological texture and it could be incredible.

Reaching further out, ex-Pavement leader Stephen Malkmus could pair up with the Glitch Mob for an electronically infused indie rock. In my wildest dreams, I can imagine Animal Collective working with Kanye West. With a guest appearance by Roky Erickson.

I think I'm getting overheated. I'll throw it out for your comments - what musical partnership has the potential to be amazing?

Commentary - Excuse me while I play this guy

Photo credit: Getty Images

We want so much from our heroes. They catch our eyes and ears in the media spotlight and we want more. These days, the stars oblige with Twitter feeds and photo op outings for the paparazzi. But go back a few years and we could fall in love with someone and never get enough. Especially if an untimely death got in the way. Jimi, Janis, and Jim all left us hungry for more.

Celebrity bio-pics feed this hunger even as they consume it. Whether done for crass profit, historical revision, or true love, these films tap into a primal part of our psyche. It's a messy swirl of ego sublimation, idolatry, gossip hunger, and the need for neatly wrapped answers. We're not sure whether we want to see our idols as human or bigger than life.

I'm forced to confront all of this because André 3000 is set to play Jimi Hendrix in the upcoming biopic All Is By My Side. Hendrix has a mystique that hasn't been tarnished by any of the biographies or salvaged demo recordings. I'm torn between wanting to have that illusion of an omniscient sense of his life and being afraid that a poorly executed movie is going to pollute my ideal of Jimi Hendrix.

Look no further than Oliver Stone's The Doors to see how damaging a bad portrayal can be. Val Kilmer captured Jim Morrison's look and sound, but the story was a sloppy, simplistic mess. On the other hand a pre-meltdown Gary Busey did a serviceable job in The Buddy Holly story.

I like André 3000 as a performer and I'm sure he's taking on the role out of love and respect. I'm just not sure that's enough. Despite my doubts, though, I'm sure I'll go see it. Whether I'll bask or cringe, right now it makes me want to listen to Axis: Bold as Love yet again.

Commentary - The media IS the message

What does music mean to you? Is it just audio wallpaper? Something to fill up the space, but hardly worth noticing? Maybe it's a tool to keep time during your workout or to create a wall to keep the other sonic distractions at bay.

Maybe only a few songs really reach you -- those tunes from your youth that can take you back or the emotion trigger of a shared song -- and the rest don't matter.

It seems like I've always had music playing in my head. My personal soundtrack varies from songs I've listened to recently, old favorite tunes that resonate with my mood, or sometimes a new idea for a song I hope will come together. I've been comforted by Miles Davis solos, cocooned by Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun, and tortured by ear worms that won't go away (Mandy... curse you, Manilow).

Despite having a host of old favorites, I've never lost my interest in finding new music. There's a magic when some band comes out of nowhere and finds a home in my head. Whether it's the compelling noise lurking within Wilco's Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, the surprising blend of Dengue Fever's Khmer rock, or the Porcupine Tree's heavy intensity, I appreciate finding a new musical friend.

I started this blog to capture and share the albums I add to my collection and the shows I see, but I've stayed with it because it provides me with a window on a wide world of interesting music. Each new band I check out offers the chance that I'll find a spark of novelty. Some albums turn out to be old friends I hadn't met yet and sometimes a whole new world opens up.

I love music because it's a fundamental part of me. I write about music to share that deep connection. I get a payoff when I help a friend or reader discover a new band or rethink an old one.

So, what does music mean to you?

Commentary - Tupac Legacy, the reboot?

It's tempting to play Mercutio on the recent spat between Democrats and Ted Nugent ("A plague o' both your houses"), but trolls don't deserve the attention.

On the other hand, I find Coachella's Tupac 2.0 performance very interesting.



It's not so important whether Snoop Dogg and Dr Dre were ripping off Tupac's memory or paying tribute. I'm willing to grant them the benefit of the doubt.

The more interesting question is how this technology will evolve. The Coachella performance was an updated version of the virtual duet. Having Snoop Dogg mix it up with the Tupac projection created an illusion of interaction. I'm sure if they follow through on their plans to tour with Tupac 2.o, we'll get to see reality get shifted more than just giving a shout out to a festival that didn't exist during Tupac's life (Coachella started in 1999, three years after Tupac's death).

The novelty may wear off quickly because Tupac's projection can never capture the charisma of the man, but it will be interesting to see how far they'll take the tech. Theoretically, we're not that far from a virtual Beatles reunion tour or even seeing a concert pairing Jimi Hendrix with Lady Gaga.

Assuming the technology matures enough to create a more off-the-cuff experience, will audiences go for that? More importantly, will concert promoters use it as an excuse to avoid risk by dealing with known quantities? Taken to the extreme, it could be like the movies all over again, where all too many films are rooted in old TV shows, comic books, and personas (The Three Stooges? Really?).

At least when I start losing it, even the music will seem familiar.

Commentary - Like the father, like the son?

I love my son and I'm proud that he's turning out to be quite the musician, too. Supporting him on his path of musical development is one of my pleasures of fatherhood.

Paul McCartney is no different, he just has more resources than I do. So, where I set Malcolm up with my Vantage Avenger guitar and a small Vox amp, Sir Paul produced his son James' two EPs. With all of the advantages James McCartney has had, my son is luckier in one sense: the odds are that Malcolm won't have a lot of people endlessly comparing him to his dad.



On this Letterman performance, you can hear a bit of Paul's voice, but Angel has a more modern Brit-pop sound that stands on its own. James clearly has some talent, both as a writer and performer. Unfortunately, he may be risking his shot at developing his own career.

Talking to the BBC, McCartney was asked about the idea of forming The Beatles: The Next Generation. Not only was he up for it, he made it clear that this had been discussed in more detail:

I don't think it's something that Zak [Starkey] wants to do. Maybe Jason [another of Starr's sons and also drummer] would want to do it. I'd be up for it. Sean [Lennon] seemed to be into it, Dhani [Harrison] seemed to be into it. I'd be happy to do it.

This seems like a formula for failure. These days, sequels are more of a cynical business bet that reheated leftovers offer a better return than taking chances on real art. McCartney and the other Beatles Boys would be effectively saying that their band isn't about talent or chemistry, but just the gimmick of who their dads were. When they inevitably fail to deliver on the ideal of The Beatles II, they'll be remembered more for sacrificing their credibility for a quick grab at money and fame. They'll also be remembered for poisoning the Beatles memory as well.

That said, I'm sure they'd find someone to promote and create an initial whirl of interest. I just hope that Sir Paul can offer his son some good advice...whether or not James will take it.

Music news - Desperately seeking a clue

I made my weekly trek through the music news, looking for something interesting enough to cover. Some weeks are easier than others and this week was a cake walk.

God hates fags and Radiohead,

The Westboro Baptist Church picketed Radiohead in Kansas City last weekend, decrying the band as "freak monkeys with mediocre tunes". I was shocked. Did they somehow mistake a Radiohead show for a military funeral or something? If they're going to get into music criticism, should I start ranting about my religious delusions ("God hates godly haters")? And why Radiohead? They could have waited for Friday to vent on Jane's Addiction.

But just as I was settling into a good anti-bigot rant, I had to put it on hold because we need to have a face off for most clueless of the week. I'm talking, of course, about Courtney Love and her assertion that the Muppets are raping Curt Cobain. Or at least his memory. That's right, including the song in The Muppets movie last year stepped over a line that Weird Al, Miley Cyrus, 2Cellos, and Paul Anka couldn't find.

Photo credit: Ross Hawkes

It's not nice to pick on the handicapped and Love's critical faculties put her into that category, albeit largely by her own doing. But I'm not sure I understand her rationale. Disney apparently negotiated in good faith with Primary Wave Music (Love sold them half her rights to Cobain's music, including full distribution rights). The other members of Nirvana apparently signed off as well.

Aside from the issue of rights, it's still not clear what's so egregious about the Muppets? I don't necessarily think Cobain would have been thrilled, but who knows? Maybe what Love's really trying to say is that she was effectively raped by the Muppets. Or more to the point, the Muppets hurt her feelings by not giving her enough attention. But there's never enough.

Which side wins the Clueless Olympics? I'll declare a draw.

Music news - Send in the clowns

Social network or criminal gang? It's all who you ask. Horrorcore rappers Insane Clown Posse have built a loyal following that responds to their outsider message and unique perspective. Their Juggalo community has their own slang, their own festival (The Gathering of the Juggalos), and now they have their own social media site, Juggalobook.com.

The site is just now splashing the media with a heavily borrowed look and feel. They've made changes, like the prompt for status updates is "What up Ninja?" instead of "What's on your mind?" But these tweaks are very minor. It probably won't be long before they get the cease and desist from Facebook. Their servers are already overloaded just keeping up the current user load, so that may not matter.

The more interesting question is who started it. ICP has no mention of JuggaloBook on their site. It may have just been an enthusiastic fan that registered the site with GoDaddy. For the paranoid, it could even be a government plot to track the Juggalos, given that the FBI named the Juggalos as a "loosely organized hybrid gang" last year.

Regardless, JuggaloBook joins a host of ICP-centric forums and chat spaces. It's an interesting paradigm shift to the past. While Facebook and Google+ aim to be general appeal portal sites, JuggaloBook reaches back to the era of specialized bulletin boards. While the site pays lip service to building communities of "homies", almost everybody shares their updates with the world because on JuggaloBook, everybody's a homie.

Whoop! Whoop!

Music news - Resurrection Blues

I understand the attraction of the reunion tour, where a classic old band gets back together again for the sake of the fans. Or for the sake of their kids' tuition or a cozier retirement. Regardless of the motivations, if a band still has die hard fans, the members can always bury their mutual hostility and make nice for another spin. If they didn't do that, I never would have seen Iron Butterfly back in the '80s. Despite that pleasure, these zombie tours are ultimately unsettling.

Photo credit: Sebastian Anthony

Most recently, I heard that the promised Buffalo Springfield reunion tour is on hiatus. Even though they played a few shows last year, Neil Young apparently lost interest when he started working with Crazy Horse again. Buffalo Springfield represents a golden era in folk rock music and had some classic songs, even if they only lasted two years. But a reunion tour like this only promises a rehash of the old classics, perhaps sprinkled with a couple of songs from the members' back catalogs.

Rolling Stone also upped the ante with their article handicapping the chances of other bands getting back together. From the Talking Heads to Oasis to Abba, they offer their odds. Best of luck to the fans (and I love several of these bands), but there's still an element of unresolved grief at the thought of these groups trying to grasp at the magic of their original energy.

By contrast, my favorite musical reunions are living examples of continued growth. The recent Béla Fleck and the Flecktones release, Rocket Science is a great example. For that matter, I'm willing to bet that's a big part of Neil Young's priorities: creating new music is richer than rehashing the old stuff.

Music news - Relevant rewards

Ignoring the biggest news of the week, I'm going to resist the urge to comment on Whitney Houston.

Photo credit: Ya'akov via Flickr/Wikipedia Commons

Instead, I'll focus on the Grammys, 54 years of "peer-presented" recognition of artistic and technical achievement. True confession time: I've never been that interested in the Grammys or any other awards shows. They've never struck me as particularly relevant. For that matter, the music industry itself doesn't seem all that relevant these days either. Record companies, through the RIAA, continue to wage war on their customers and the music scene keeps fragmenting, providing indie and DIY musical acts niches to achieve some commercial success.

Sure, the Recording Academy, the Grammy Foundation, and MusiCares support the arts and do more than merely provide an annual show with a few awards. These good works should be appreciated. Additionally, the Grammys' peer recognition should represent something more than pure money.

Still, because these peers are all tightly tied to the Music Industry (in caps), it still amounts to a popularity and record sales contest. That's probably not a big deal, though. The people who faithfully watch the Grammys every year are most interested in seeing their fan love be rewarded. I don't begrudge anyone their enjoyment of the Grammys.

But personally, I'm more interested in the micro level of fan validation: introducing my friends to my favorite music and seeing them fall in love, too, or sharing my joy with fellow fans at a show. I'm sure that Eric McFadden, Earl Greyhound, and Dengue Fever would love to win a Grammy, but they're all close enough to their fans to appreciate that practical connection.

Because it's all about the music.

Music news - OK Go for the money

After treadmills, extreme timelapse, and the Muppets, it must be getting hard for OK Go to come up with entertaining video ideas. Where most bands might have a song that needs a video, OK Go has almost reached the point of being a video in search of a song. Eventually, the pressure to deliver will almost certainly drive the band crazy (which will probably be the subject of their final video).



Their latest, for Needing/Getting, is a collaboration with General Motors and director Brian L. Perkins. GM got a Superbowl Chevy ad out of the deal and the band had their next wacky video concept. It's sort of a variation on the Rube Goldberg machine idea: set up a desert course with instruments and other sound generating stuff and run a Chevy Sonic through it to "play" the song.

It's a cute idea and the band delivers total commitment to the premise -- "we're pop, but we mean it, damnit!" Getting someone else to pay the video production cost was nice, but OK Go's real win was the Superbowl exposure.

Of course, there's been some backlash against the band for selling out, although a fair number of fans are supportive. The whole debate raises the larger question about money's role in the arts. Effectively, corporate sponsorship is just taking the same place that the Medici's did in supporting Leonardo da Vinci (among many others).

That perspective has always been uneasy for rock and roll, though, where people like their rebels. The idea of Jim Morrison, John Lennon, or Jimi Hendrix shilling for the Man would have torpedoed their social cred. But modern aesthetics have come a long way. The Who Sell Out's social commentary has yielded to some artists making their first music sale to a commercial before they even cut an album. Now, when we look back at Microsoft's use of the Stones' Start Me Up for Windows 95, that's merely "ironic".

So, has OK Go sold out? Hipsters will be purist hipsters, but I'm pretty sure that working with GM didn't compromise OK Go's musical integrity.

Music news - Don't take this...

...personally.

Image credit: Open Clip Art Library, care of Wikipedia

Actually, I did take it a little personally. Producer Richard X (M.I.A., Kelis, Sugababes) talked to BBC Newsbeat about music piracy and album leaks. He blamed the problem on rabid fans phishing for pre-release copies of music rather than a sinister pirate cabal.

He shared anecdotes about insidious fans posing as insiders and using social engineering to get early access to albums. But it's interesting to contrast this with another point in the article that mentions the long lead time the labels take to release music.

For my part, I occasionally sense some suspicion when I contact an artist to get a review copy of an upcoming album. I have the advantage of an active review blog to vouch for my identity. But the industry's piracy problem probably affects my odds of success.

The irony, though, is that for all of the music label fear-mongering about album leaks, there are plenty of artists like Jill Sobule, Jonathan Coulton, and Matt Stevens who have been building successful, sustained careers around sharing their music. They may not be operating at the crazy money level that the major labels play at, but they are proof that an artist can connect with fans, satisfy their cravings for fresh music, and still make a living.

Essay: The interconnected web

The OCD part of my nature makes me look for patterns and connection. That's actually a normal human trait. We categorize things to better understand them. It also gives us an instant context to communicate with each other. We tend to assume that everyone has categorized things in a roughly similar manner, but often forget to ask whether the category itself makes any sense.

Musical categories, for instance, seem inherently weak, especially when it comes to styles that are still evolving. That's largely because there are so few pure musical genres. Sure, with insulated groups, there's a sense of musical style sui generis, like Appalachian bluegrass or Swedish death metal. And yet, even these are tethered to roots that have spawned countless other styles. It's hard to find purity; there is no vacuum.

Over time, many stylistic labels become useless on their own: rock, jazz, world music...because the label represents a melange of vaguely related instances. We sense the relationship between two sounds, but can't really articulate the details. So we fall back to the general name. Rock has come a long way since the '50s, but even in the early days, elements from other styles, like country or blues, intruded. Like any hybrid, a given musical sound can be healthy, varied, and strong from taking pieces from numerous sources to create something unique.

For me, the most interesting music happens in those odd spaces between genres. That's why I love bands like Gogol Bordello, Camper Van Beethoven, Dengue Fever, Easy Star All-Stars, Nouvelle Vague, Whiskey Blanket, and Béla Fleck. Picking a genre in these cases seems pointless; it's better to list their antecedents. The music is vibrant and compelling, but the labels (e.g. jazz-bluegrass or gypsy punk) don't really make the grade.

Unfortunately some people get too hung up on labels. They can argue about whether something is "really punk/reggae/etc" and discount artistic value because it's not a pure enough example of something that was poorly defined in the first place. There are whole styles of music that I thought I didn't like, such as bluegrass or heavy metal. Eventually, though, I encountered examples of music I found I did like when I stopped worrying about the label. Occasionally, it even opened up my ears to the style in general. Now, I don't necessarily like everything I hear, but I can focus on what it is I don't like rather than automatically dismissing it.

So now, instead of satisfying my need for pattern and connection by sorting music into genres, I look for the patterns relating a given performer or song to other things I know. I can wonder which of those connections are real and which are just coincidence (or too removed to track). My head doesn't have a set of bins, it has a web.

Essay: Mix and mash

I talked briefly about DJs and mixing in my Pretty lights review. I want to talk a bit more about mashups in particular, in preparation for my review of the Kleptones' 24 Hours. A mashup is a mix of two or more songs in the same track, where the intent is to create a musical hybrid. Since this usually entails heavier usage of the source material than a simple sample, each of the original songs is still largely recognizable. Oftentimes, this is structured by mostly using music from one song and vocal tracks from another: think Stairway to Gilligan's Island, except maintaining the original Gilligan tune for the vocals. Genre hopping between the songs is also common.

Much like my preference in cover tunes, I really like creative mashups. There's something really satisfying about a clever combination. At its best, a good mashup balances between a novel experience with something familiar. The familiar song(s) raise associations that can provide a sense of deeper meaning and increase my appreciation of the originals while I enjoy them in their new context. In contrast, songs like P Diddy's I'll Be Missing You, with its straightforward lift of the Police's Every Breath You Take, seem non-creative and dull.

Of course, that raises the question of whether a mashup is truly a creative work. If the DJs didn't play any of the music they're putting together, are they just stealing art from real musicians? This may seem like a new, particularly egregious case of appropriation, but it's really a standard practice throughout the history of creative arts. Great painters and sculptors have stolen techniques and visual elements from one another. Classical music has used folk melody themes and jazz has a long history of reinterpreting classic tunes. Musique concrète, a musical/artistic approach based on found sound, is even more closely related to today's mashup. If information or meaning is added by the musical juxtaposition, then this is a creative work. Keep in mind, too, that, though there are mashup tools (e.g. ACID Pro), creating a mashup is a challenging technical task. The DJ has to unite rhythm, musical key, and create a balance between the sources. Even if the keys match between two songs, the chord changes of one song may not meshwell with the melody of the second.

The ethical question is more interesting (and harder) to answer. There has been plenty of debate over the use of short samples in hip hop music. In the case of mashups, much more of the source material is used. This seems to be analogous to cover songs. In that case, live performances are addressed through BMI/ASCAP fees paid by the venue and CD sales pay publishing royalties. Live performances aren't really an issue, as most mashup DJs don't focus on live shows. Most mashup artists do offer recordings, though, and they don't tend to pay royalties, which is an issue. That's why many of mashup artists give away their tracks and rely on donations and other sources. The holders of the publishing rights do their best to shut down the mashup DJs with varying suucess (look at DJ DangerMouse's Grey Album). The few mashups that develop a cult following usually find a legal path to capitalize on the fan base.

Coming up next is my review of the Kleptones, who are one of my favorite mashup artists.

Essay: Transcendence

If you've been lucky, you've managed to catch a show, where everything simultaneously stops and takes a leap forward. Where the music suddenly clicks in a way that tells you that you're hearing a perfect instant. Maybe it was Jeff Beck's wailing guitar beating against Jan Hammer's keys. Maybe it was BB King's effortlessly smooth phrasing, speaking straight to your heart. It could have been Karl Denson blowing sax, where you know what he's got to play next, even when he doesn't. It might be when James Whiton is playing "upright death machine" on a song like Bus Driver with Eric McFadden Trio. These are all moments I feel fortunate to have experienced. For sure, transcendence is in the ear and mind of the beholder, but you can see it in facial expressions of the players, too. They know that something special is happening right now and that they are blessed.

Every now and then, I've had glimpses of that place myself: where the band is all hitting their stride and the music is just materializing in my hands. That first gig with Cool Runnings, when it became clear that all of my notes about what I should be playing were irrelevant. That I'd need to listen and just roll where the music went. I remember that first set finishing and being so happy and breathless. I was just amazed at the flow and I couldn't wait for the break to be over.

I've also had those times jamming with my acoustic crowd: Sunny Jim, Dave Hughes, Jim Harlan, Susan Spackman, and others. We'd keep playing a song because we didn't want to lose the flow. The sound of everybody's voices coming together in harmony; everybody finding the perfect hole to place their musical offering to the song.

One common element for me is getting to a point where I can hear the total, without obsessing on my piece of it. Getting that context and then really hearing how everything fits. It's like receiving a wonderful gift. Most of the times I've hit this level, I've been playing with other musicians. More rarely, I've had brief moments alone where my hands are on auto-pilot and I become aware of how I can stretch out my voice just a little bit further and it might be something amazing.

Since I've been playing with looping, I've started to see how I might be able to create the right conditions by building enough complexity into my looped parts. But it's hard to know whether I'll surprise myself because oftentimes the song will just collapse into noise. So far, I've played it safer on stage until I can harness that.

Still, regardless of whether I pull this off in my solo performance or find the right band to get me closer, transcendence is my goal. I hope some of you are there to witness it or help create it.

What are your magical musical moments? Throw a comment out there...