Mr. G's Humpday Happytracks - Wednesday, August 28, 2024: Kurt Elling and Jon Hendricks - Goin' to Chicago

Credit: William Ellis

Today's Humday Happytrack is a version of the good old blues standard, Goin' to Chicago. This is a vocal duet by two great jazz vocalists.

The artists are Kurt Elling and Jon Hendricks. This track was recorded live in 1999 at Chicago's legendary jazz nightclub, The Green Mill. Mr. Elling is perhaps the preeminent male jazz vocalist in the world today - he is a baritone with a four-octave range! He was born in Chicago in 1968, raised in Rockford IL and launched his career in the city of his birth. He decamped to New York City (aka Mecca for jazz musicians) in 2008, but he still comes home frequently. Jon Hendricks is best-known for his work with Lambert, Hendricks and Ross, the jazz trio that popularized vocalese. He was one of the elder statesmen of the jazz vocal world when this duet was recorded.

Here's Goin' to Chicago by these two stellar singers. Click on the link and check it out!

Whay do I love this track?

First of all, Elling and Hendricks are obviously having a lot of fun, and I can feel the respect and love flowing between these two.  It's wonderful when a current artist like Elling can work with one of his heroes from the preceding generation.

Secondly, I love the spare arrangement! It is just the two singers and Rob Amster's bass walking throught the blues changes. This gives Elling and Hendricks room to stretch out. Make no mistake - this is the real blues, people!

Third, the vocalese intro by Elling. I live in the Chicago area and love the city, and Elling's proud declarations about the city's virtues causes me to nod vigorously in agreement.

Finally, the Green Mill audience reactions became part of the performance. The Green Mill is a small room and the interaction between performers and audience members is intense and sort of intimate.

Elling won two Grammys. Hendricks was a giant of American music - the Lambert Hendricks and Ross song, Twisted was covered by Joni Mitchell. These two jazz guys have an extensive discography - dig in!!

Mr. G's Humpday Happytracks - Wednesday, August 21, 2024: Ruth Moody - Dancing in the Dark

 

Today's Humpday Happytrack is a cover of Bruce Springsteen's great song, Dancing in the Dark.

The artist is Ruth Moody - she is best known as one of the founders of the Wailin' Jennys, the female roots music supergroup. Ruth started out as a solo artist and she continued to pursue her solo career, separate from the Jennys.  We are lucky that she kept making her own music. This woman has an amazing voice, and she is one of those people that is the master of several instruments - guitar, banjo and more.

There are live versions of this song on YouTube. I am partial to the album version for reasons I will discuss below.  Here is Ruth's version of Dancing in the Dark. Click on the link and check it out.

Why do I love this track?

First of all, Ruth Moody sings like an angel - a pensive, wistful angel that is quietly expressing great emotion with every note she sings. She is a Canadian bluegrass artist, classically trained and soaked in instrumental expertise and yearning bluegrass vocal harmonies.  She brings that vocal instrument to this Springsteen classic.

Second, the source material is well-chosen. This is, in my opinion, Springsteen's best song. 

Third, the production and musical arrangement are outstanding. The track has subtle rhythmic urgency that is intense enough that I didn't even notice the absence of a drummer on the track. The vocal harmonies are impeccable.  The instrumental voicings bring the feel of chamber music to this 1980's rock anthem - viola, bowed double bass, acoustic guitar and rhythm work on the mandolin. Ruth and her team turn this tune into meditative musical poetry.

Finally, the topper - near the end of the track, there is an outstanding jazz mandolin solo that darts in and out of the vocal harmonies before the song comes to an abrupt halt. I haven't been able to determine who played the mandolin on that track - I'm trying to find the original album notes.

My strong recommendation - dig into Ruth Moody's solo work. The Wailin' Jennys discography is also worthy of attention.  Enjoy Ruth's great music!

I think this version of Dancing in the Dark would leave The Boss shaking his head in amazement.

Mr. G's Humpday Happytracks - Wednesday, August 14, 2024: The Slickophonics - Procrastination

 

My last post to this blog was back in December 2023.  Not coincidentally, this is when I started as volunteer music reporter for the Evanston Roundtable.  Digging into the local music scene and writing several thousand words each week gobbled up my free time and fulfilled my need to tell stories about music and musicians.  I woke up a couple of days ago and realized - I missed my good ol' blog.

 It should be easy enough to write some stuff that complements my efforts as a music reporter. I've decided to inflict my extremely quirky musical recommendations upon readers of this blog. To keep this manageable, I will restrict myself to one track each week. I'll publish on Humpday, which is today.  

Today's Humpday Happytrack is Procrastination by the Slickophonics.  Click on the link and check it out.

What do I love about this track? Well, it is an intense funk shuffle, very heavy on the syncopated horn riffs. There is  awesome trombone work - Ray Anderson is the trombonist's name, and he really knows how to work a plunger mute! I also love the lyrics - the tune opens with a spoken word intro that defines procrastination as "irreplaceably and irrevocably continuing to gaze at one's navel,"  Ray Anderson is also the lead singer on this track, and his vocal style is a cross between a carnival barker and your drunken uncle at the end of the wedding reception.  Hey, it works!

Slickophonics was an innovative proto-funk band that had five members - Ray Anderson on trombone & vocals, Steve Elson on sax and keyboards, Allan Jaffe on guitar & vocals, Mark Helias on bass & vocals, and Jim Payne on drums and vocals. The band was popular in Europe - they toured extensively in the 1980's. This is loose-jointed funk with a touch of anarchy - not clean and precise like the Vulfpeck version of funk. I love it!

All of Slickophonics tracks stand up under repeated listening. This group wasn't famous and only lasted for a few years, but they created awesome music! Enjoy it, and tell your friends!!

Bad News Brown (Paul Frappier), Hip Hop Harmonica Legend

 

I'm a harmonica guy. That means I am deeply interested in obscure musicians that play harmonica.  Many of these folks are mostly forgotten - only a small crew of harmonica cultists remember them. I don't want Paul Frappier to be forgotten.

Better known by his stage name, Bad News Brown, Frappier was born in Haiti. He moved at a young age to Canada and ultimately settled in the Little Burgundy neighborhood in Montreal. Little Burgundy was the hub of the English-speaking Black community in Montreal and was a center for music and culture. The great jazz pianist, Oscar Peterson, was from Little Burgundy. Frappier struggled in school due to dyslexia and left home as a teenager.  He was on the streets for a bit.  I don't know the details, but somehow he discovered the harmonica and found he had a natural affinity for the instrument. He combined his harmonica playing with hip hop backing tracks and became a very successful busker, often setting up in the Montreal Metro subway stations. The money he made playing on the streets paid his rent, kept him fed and ultimately launched his career as an emerging hip hop star.  His track, "Reign" from the 2010 album Born 2 Sin, has the harmonica front & center producing infectious, trance-enducing melodies.

Bad News Brown was catching fire. He opened for Kanye West, 50 Cent, and Snoop Dogg (back when these three were still top names in hip hop).  I think Bad News Brown was about to greatly increase the visibility of the harmonica with an audience that generally was not interested in the instrument.

This didn't happen. 

On February 11, 2011, Paul Frappier was found in an alley in an industrial area near the Lachine Canal in Montreal. Police pronounced him dead at the scene.  Bad News Brown joined the long list of hip hop artists that died from violence. No one has been charged with his murder.

The people in Montral remember Bad News Brown. they have memorialized him in murals, like this one:

I'm not sure that too many other folks remember Paul Frappier.  There was a brief flurry of articles in the Montreal press on the 10th anniversary of his death. There has been little progress in solving the crime that took his life.

I don't hear Bad News Brown mentioned by many other harmonica players or discussed in any on-line harmonica forums. I think our community should do its part to make sure that this innovative artist is not forgotten.

Motivation

 

I haven't been paying much attention to writing in this blog for the past few months. Life events have diverted my attention - I moved into a new home and I'm spending more time in the company of loved ones now that the Covid mess has transitioned from a life-threatening pandemic to another disease in the mix of things that impair and annoy. But it is a new year and that always causes me to ponder stuff. 

I have been thinking about motivation.

It seems to me that there is a segment of the human population that is highly motivated to act. People can be motivated by greed, or their sense of outrage over social injustice, or their desire to make art, or their thirst for political power - there are countless reasons behind high motivation. These highly motivated people drive human society. They tend to dominate the news cycle.

At the other end of the spectrum is the segment that has little or no motivation. These folks may be victims of trauma, may have a mental health condition, might be addicts, may have other impairments - physical/health issues or cognitive challenges. Also in this segment are the folks that have been beaten down over time by bad luck - multi-generational poverty, adverse childhood circumstances and random bad events. The people in the low-motivation segment often struggle to stay alive. They can't contribute much to the economy and may need assistance to stay housed and fed.

In the middle is the majority - ranging from fast-food workers to corporate lawyers. The people in this group have some motivation but not as much focus as the people in the high-motivation segment. Examples include the AT&T technician laying down hip-hop tracks in his home studio on weekends, the family doctor that loves to go deep sea fishing, the schoolteacher that is an expert on all the Star Wars characters and stories. People in this group might shift upwards or downwards depending on the random events of life - an unexpectedly successful investment leads to a fortune and a life of high-impact philanthropy, or an injury from an auto accident leads to an addiction to painkillers, job loss and broken family connections.

All of this human activity, the struggle and striving - it's meaningless to the universe.  It is a fact that humans are small creatures on a small planet in a vast cosmos.  Our species is also very young. Sharks have been around for 40 million years; homo sapiens showed up about 400,000 years ago. But, of course, our insignificant status is all we have. We can only be human beings interacting to our environment with whatever tools we can create.

There is a thing that gives me great hope. It is the ability of individual humans to deeply connect with each other, to get that feeling of shared consciousness and synchronized emotional states. It happens in so many ways - through rituals surrounding life events (weddings, funerals, birthdays), through festivals, through group spiritual practices, from creating and sharing music, from group efforts to protect and improve a community.  

The various motivational segments unite when human connection grows.

The Trombone and the Harmonica

 

I spend way too much time thinking about, playing and listening to trombones and harmonicas. These two instruments grabbed me at different points in my life, and for different reasons.

Many of us had that elementary school experience around fourth grade - after playing "Hot Cross Buns" on ocarinas in third grade, a few students decided that they liked making quasi-musical noise. The band room was available for kids in 4th and 5th grade. I was one of those kids that was eager to  goof around in with musical instruments - and kids in band got to leave the main classroom to work with the music teacher for a couple hours a week. That was the main draw for most of us.

On that day early in the fourth grade school year that kids could claim instruments, I had a cold. I stayed home from school for a couple of days. By the time I returned, all of my favorite instruments had been claimed by other kids - the trumpets were gone, the saxophones were gone, the violins were gone. There was a collection of sad orphan instruments - violas, French horns, and trombones.  I picked a trombone as the "least worst" instrument available.

Well, I was ambivalent about the trombone for a while.  It was an awkward instrument - the slide was hard for short 9-year old arms to manipulate.  It was a long horn and I had a tendency to bump into other musicians in the band. I sounded like crap - thin tone and generally off-pitch.  I had enough musical awareness to know that I sucked. I didn't quit, though.  I had caught the music disease and the trombone was my instrument.

I kept at it and became a half-decent trombonist in high school.  I switched to bass trombone for a few years, then back to tenor, then back to bass.  I grew to love the instrument and worshipped the great jazz players - J.J. Johnson, Curtis Fuller, Slide Hampton, Frank Rosolino, Carl Fontana and many more. But the trombone was a tough instrument for me. I had to work hard just to avoid deterioration of my modest skills. I kept hitting walls that I couldn't break through. The music in my head wouldn't come out of the horn. I played through college and graduate school, but put it down when I got my first "real job" and embarked on a business career.

I was a band geek, music nerd in high school. I also used to hang around with guys that had garage bands, playing bad covers of "The House of the Rising Sun" and other chestnuts. I wanted to play with those guys, but the trombone was  not a natural fit with electric guitar, bass and drums. I can't remember how it happened, but I found a harmonica somewhere. Maybe one of my guitar-playing buddies had one.  I discovered it was very easy to get a decent sound of of a harmonica. If you can breathe, you can play it.  There is no need for hand-eye coordination or control of obscure embouchure muscles.

I began seeking out recordings of harmonica players. There are many limited players out there - the Bob Dylans, John Lennons, Mick Jaggers, etc. - that see the harmonica as an easy way to add a different sound to their work. Since I was a working-class white kid in a mostly-white high school (some Asian kids, some Mexican kids, no Black kids), I had to find the good players through white people that stole their shit.  So John Mayall was my first influence. 

I didn't work on the harmonica, but I played it a lot. I could play it while walking down the street. I could play it while I was driving in my car. I kept one in my pocket most of the time - still do. I could play along with guitar players once I figured out how to match harmonica keys to guitar keys (it took me a while to learn that the harmonica sounded best when the key of the harmonica was a 4th higher than the key that the guitar was playing in (so a harmonica in the key of A sounded great when the guitarist is playing in E). This is elementary stuff, but it was revolutionary to me when I was 16 years old.

I eventually found the real masters of the harmonica - Little Walter Jacobs, Big Walter Horton, James Cotton, George Harmonica Smith, Junior Wells.  Since I was a jazz nut, I found Toots Thielman and fell in love with jazz on the chromatic harmonica. Oh, and Stevie Wonder - a harmonica God for sure. And Howard Levy - the superhero who mastered chromatic music on the little old diatonic harmonica, which is not designed to play chromatic music.

Since I started playing trombone again in March, I have been appreciating the similarities and differences between my chosen musical weapons. Both are very vocal instruments - the trombone can sound like people talking (remember the teacher in the Charlie Brown animated specials?).  The harmonica can also put out wails and moans that sound very human.  The differences between the two instruments are also obvious - harmonicas can play chords, trombones cannot.  Getting a decent sound out of a harmonica is relatively easy (if you can breathe, you can play a chord); getting a decent sound out of the trombone takes quite a lot of practice; it requires unnatural buzzing of lips and control of airflow. The process of learning to play the trombone is like lifting weights - you have to get your reps in and build muscles; if you lay off for any significant period, the trombone "chops" begin to atrophy. Playing a harmonica is like walking - it is easy, almost anyone can do it and you can sit for a long time without losing your ability to walk.

Of course, if you want to truly master one of these instruments, you must be focused and dedicated. In that sense, the instruments are identical.

Female Trombonists - Jennifer Wharton

 

The bass trombone is a fabulous instrument, and I'm not just saying that because I play it. The low register, well-played, by a skilled bass trombonist will rattle your soul.  Most jazz ensembles have two highly-exposed players - the lead trumpeter and the bass trombonist.  It is a key instrument in the symphony orchestra's palette and is is the bedrock of Broadway musicals. Oh, and don't forget the significant increase in bass trombone visibility in the world of movie scores (thank you, John Williams!).

The bass trombone community has been a boys club. While there are a number of marvelous female tenor trombonists, there were no well-known female bass trombonists. Jennifer Wharton is changing that.

Unlike many master musicians, Jennifer didn't come from a musical family.  She was born and raised in Pittsburg CA, a funky east bay town an hour away from San Francisco.  She picked up the trombone in 6th grade and shifted to a horn with an F attachment in 7th grade. Her parents apparently weren't very supportive - Jennifer stopped playing for a while, but got back into the bass trombone in high school. She got into the cheerleading squad, but she missed playing the horn - "the band director was vibing me," she said. Jennifer had no lessons until college. She was in the game to have fun.  

Jennifer went to a local junior college and got into the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston. After graduating, she went home for a couple of years. She went back to the Manhattan School of Music - it did not go well. She was focused on classical music, and her trombone professor was an asshole. Jennifer stuck it out for a year and made some connections. She got tapped to play in the pre-Broadway run of Wicked in San Francisco; that led to a move to New York and a strong run in the pit orchestras on Broadway. 

Ms. Wharton says, "l play the low notes." She focuses on bass trombone, but also plays tuba and tenor trombone. This woman is versatile and talented - she is a freelancer that plays on Broadway, in the top New York jazz ensembles and subs in the New York City Ballet orchestra. She also put together the trombone-centric jazz group that she named Bonegasm. Jennifer clearly has a sense of whimsy and might be a bit bawdy. Bonegasm has 3 tenor trombones and Jennifer on bass. She is married to John Fedchock, one of the world's top jazz trombonists.

Jennifer keeps growing. She became a jazz improviser at the age of 39; she sings; she went back to college during the pandemic to study music theory. She is also an adjunct professor of trombone performance at Montclair State in New Jersey. She said in a recent podcast, "I have always felt like I'm behind; I feel a lot of shame. I have a bad case of imposter syndrome." Jennifer is amazingly open about her struggles and is vulnerable in a powerful way.

This woman is my newest bass trombone hero.

Joey DeFrancesco, Up Close And Personal (at PM Woodwind, Evanston IL - June 11, 2022)

 

Anyone who is semi-serious about playing a musical instrument needs to have a skilled professional in their network to tweak, repair and improve their equipment. I know a very good brass repair guy in the Chicago area (Dana Hofer); he helped me reincarnate my tenor and bass trombones earlier this year. I also know several harmonica technicians that do the painstaking work of fixing up my beat-up chromatic harmonicas. For saxophones and other woodwind instruments, the top dude around is Paul Maslin of PM Woodwind in Evanston IL.  Tucked away on a side street just west of the commuter rail tracks, PM Woodwind is perhaps the world's best source of saxophone repair services and deep woodwind knowledge. Paul collects and re-sells rare instruments, too. Great players from all over the U.S. and beyond seek out help from PM Woodwind.  Not surprisingly. Paul Maslin is a killer saxophonist and all of his repair folks also play. To truly understand and customize an instrument, you must know how to play it.

PM Woodwind has a side room at their store front, a small space used for lessons and rehearsals of local groups. Paul's stature among sax players is substantial, and several major names have stopped by to conduct free master classes/performances in that space. I suspect they do this to stay in the good graces of this sax repair guru. Tower of Power's horn section played there and so has Ravi Coltrane (John Coltrane's offspring) and Dave Liebman.  These events generally attract other sax players; I managed to sneak into one earlier this month because my partner is an awesome flutist who knows Paul well. The featured artist was Joey DeFrancesco aka Joey D.

If you know nothing about Joey D, I feel a little sorry for you. He has been called a modern Mozart, started playing the organ at 4 years old and had his own band by the time he was 10. Columbia Records signed him when he was 16 years old. Miles Davis hired Joey D  when he was 17 to play in one of the last Miles Davis groups.   Joey D is a giant that rejuvenated the Hammond B3 organ jazz idiom. Since he is such an insatiable, questing musical force, he has picked up other instruments - trumpet and, more recently, saxophone.  Oh, and Joey sings, too.  Mr. DeFrancesco has had prodigious output - 39 records as a leader and work with a broad range of musicians, from Elvin Jones and James Moody to Ray Charles and Van Morrison.

He came to PM Woodwind to play sax; no organ on the premises (and no trumpet, either).  Joey D's interest in the sax is partly genetic - his grandfather played the instrument. Joey D fooled around with the horn in the 1990's with limited success. He set it down for 25 years. In 2019, he recorded some tunes with the great tenor sax man, Pharaoh Saunders, and said "I gotta play sax now."  The man has an insane work ethic and started shedding like a madman.  By the time he got to the PM Woodwind side room on June 11, he could go toe-to-toe with almost any jazz tenor sax player around. It was a stunning display by a guy that has only been playing sax seriously for 3 years.

PM Woodwind can only hold a small audience, but very knowledgeable and enthusiastic folks were in attendance.  Since it was a master class, Joey D took questions. One of the more remarkable things he said - he doesn't read music very well and mostly plays by ear/by memory. He also said that the trumpet is the "least forgiving instrument" that he plays. The brass player's embouchure requires constant work to stay functional - a week off and the muscles begin to atrophy.  Since I play trombone, I know what he said is true. He also told us that his wife is his business manager, and that he couldn't be very successful without her guidance and expertise.

It was a very intense 90 minutes, and then Joey D split for his gig at the Jazz Showcase in downtown Chicago. This guy has been playing professionally for 41 years and he is only 51. He is still in the 4th or 5th inning of his game. It's hard for me to wrap my head around that factoid.

So if you didn't know Joey D, now you know. 

Liquid Soul is Back and Boy, Do We Need This Band.

 

Liquid Soul is a Chicago-based ensemble that was launched around 1993 - they are approaching the 30th anniversary of the group's birth. The picture above captures a fraction of the group - the horn section, which includes Mars Williams on saxophones, John Janowiak on trombone and Ron Haynes on trumpet.  This has always been a large ensemble - guitar, bass, drums, turntablist and two rappers/singers backed the horns on June 9, 2022 when the group played at SPACE in my hometown of Evanston IL.  I was there and it was an uplifting event, ice water breaking the long dry spell created by this pandemic.

Mars Williams and DJ Jesse De La Pena formed Liquid Soul after meeting up at the Elbo Room in the early 1990's. They gathered up some other musicians and hip hop artists and started playing as Liquid Soul on Sunday nights. Word of the group's unique make-up and sound spread quickly, and Liquid Soul had to move to a larger venue (the Double Door in the Wicker Park neighborhood in Chicago).  The Liquid Soul smash-up of hard bop, free jazz, jazz fusion, funk, R&B,  and hip hop was labeled as acid jazz, which launched in London during the 1980's. British DJ's were adding beats and electronics to classic jazz tunes from the 1950's and 1960's, and these very danceable grooves became popular in the dance clubs of London. The acid jazz "movement" didn't hit the U.S. until the early 1990's, and Liquid Soul caught the wave. They band almost made it into the mainstream. The group released its first album in 1996, and Liquid Soul's second record, "Here's the Deal,"  was nominated for a Grammy as "Best Contemporary Jazz Album: in 2001. They opened for Sting at Central Park in New York. They played the Newport Jazz Festival. 

In the late 1990's, Liquid Soul was everywhere in Chicago. They attracted a huge following at Elbo Room and Double Door - the professional athletes (Bears & Bulls) liked to hang out when they were playing. They played at Dennis Rodman's birthday party.  It was Camelot from a musical perspective. Liquid Soul was the Midwest version of acid jazz/hip hop - unique, extremely musical, danceable, crazy creative and improvisational!!!!

The band flirted with a breakthrough, but Mars Williams got a gig with Psychedelic Furs around 2003. Liquid Soul was a huge ensemble, it was expensive to tour and the music did not attract a massive following - the acid jazz/jam band folks loved it, but that isn't a huge audience. The band broke up for a while and re-formed. It has performed sporadically over the past 15 years or so. They have come out of the Covid pandemic slowdown and are playing gigs again around the Chicago area. 

They band was great on June 9, but OMG they were LOUD!! SPACE is a small room. I turned on my sound meter app on my phone and the levels hit 115 decibels!!  That is almost as loud as a chainsaw at close range. I blame the sound man at SPACE for this. Liquid Soul is not really a super loud band, but a huge sound system in a small room leads to hearing damage. I had to wear earplugs, which messed up the sound of the band.

I was delighted that they played their hip-hop version of Salt Peanuts on June 9. Here is the video of that tune, featuring Kurt Elling at the beginning.

This group is still totally relevant, and I hope they have great success.

Female Trombonists - Rita Payés

This is my second post regarding female trombonists. I have talked about Melba Liston, the trailblazing artist that paved the way for so many female jazz musicians. Now I turn to another, much younger, trailblazer.

Rita Payés is the type of artist that causes jaws to hit the floor. She was born into a musical family, in Catalan, Spain - her mother, Elisabeth Roma, is an outstanding classical and jazz guitarist, steeped in Latin music (bossa nova, fado, boleros and more). Rita started out on piano but for some reason, she decided to try the trombone. Some people have a natural affinity for a specific instrument, and I suspect that this young woman instinctively knew how to play this horn. Of course, she must have put in many hours of practice, but her facility and tone sound like they come from a deep place, beyond intellect and scale exercises. 

Oh, and Rita sings. And plays guitar. Her cup of talent runneth over. Her vocals are sweet and wistful. The combination of her voice, her mother's guitar and quiet accompaniment from other compassionate musicians creates an almost magical experience. Here's an example of Rita's artistry.  Her voice is delicate and sensitive, but not weak. She covers the entire range of the trombone and the musical ideas that she sends through the horn are full of yearning.  

Rita is 22 years old. She released her first record when she was 16.  She plays around Europe, mostly in Spain and France. I don't think she has toured North America, which is a huge loss for lovers of great music that live on this continent.  I have never visited Spain, but now I must.  I need to hear Rita play and sing. 

Female Trombonists - Melba Liston

 

Since I picked up my old trombone again back in February, I have been on a journey to re-learn what I used to know and try to improve beyond that former plateau. I will probably write about this experience at some point, but I want to focus on something different today. I have also been listening to many trombonists and find myself impressed by the women that have made the unpopular choice to play the ol' sliphorn,  The trombone community has been a "boys club" for a long time, but that is no longer as true as it used to be.  Some of the more interesting players right now are women. They still don't get the attention they deserve, IMO. I'm going to focus on them for a while because they are fantastic artists.

The Founding Mother of the female trombonist tribe is Melba Liston who is pictured above. Ms. Liston picked up the horn when she was 10 years old and quickly became proficient, playing pit orchestra gigs in Los Angeles while still in high school. The great tenor saxophonist, Dexter Gordon, was Melba's high school classmate. After a year of playing professionally, Melba landed a job as assistant to composer and arranger Gerald Wilson.  Wilson was in the process of forming his first big band, and Melba was in the trombone section. She recorded with Dexter Gordon in 1947 - he dedicated the tune "Mischievous Lady" to her. I think Melba went through some tough times - racism and sexism made it tough for a black female trombonist and arranger. She dropped out of music for a while. Melba did clerical work and got cast as an extra in some movies (she had a small part in "The Ten Commandments"). In 1950, Dizzy Gillespie reached out and she joined his band. She was also a featured performer with Quincy Jones' bands in the early 1960's. Here is a wonderful example of Melba's trombone lyricism from that time. 

It seems like many trombonists become composers and arrangers. J.J. Johnson and Slide Hampton both were prolific. Melba Liston also took up this profession and she was fabulous. She collaborated extensively with the pianist Randy Weston. She taught music at universities in Jamaica for a number of years in the 1970's, returning to the U.S. in the early 1980's.  When Melba had a stroke in 1985 and couldn't play trombone anymore, she kept composing and arranging. Here is one of her arrangements from Randy Weston's Volcano Blues album - really gorgeous harmonic colors!

Melba Liston was a great trombonist and arranger, but she was more than that. She overcame enormous prejudice and broke out of the social prison imposed on black women. Her art and life force were unstoppable. 

We lost her at age 73 in 1999.  All trombonists should study this woman. In fact, everyone should.

Appreciating Music I Don't Like At All.

 

I am a fan of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.  I think he has more heart and than most celebrities, and he really found his voice on the show once Trump got elected. One of the reasons I enjoy the show is the presence of Jon Batiste and Stay Human - a terrific group of superstar musicians that amaze me every time I tune in. 

I was a bit surprised recently when a featured guest on the Colbert show was Michael Buble'. I have heard snippets of this fellow's music and did not like it at all. He struck me as the musical equivalent of American cheese (although he is a proud Canadian). Processed, manufactured, packaged in plastic, inauthentic - yuck. He also covers songs that I love when performed by others - he does a somewhat flat version of "You Don't Know Me" by the great songwriter, Cindy Walker, which was covered by Ray Charles . Brother Ray's cover is the definitive version for me.  Buble's cover of "Feelin' Good" is a bland experience when compared to the awesome version of this tune that was done by Nina Simone in the mid-60's. I judged Michael as the Pat Boone of his generation. Boone did awful covers of great songs originally performed by Black R&B/rock & roll artists - "Ain't That A Shame" by Fats Domino, "Tutti Frutti" by Little Richard, and so on. Boone was exploiting the work of the original artists.

But Michael Buble' has pipes.

He can definitely sing. He has come up with a product that lots of people like - it introduces folks to music that they might not know about. And he came from nothing - he's the son of a commercial fisherman. I admire him. He deserves respect. I shouldn't be such a judgmental jerk.

I think it's good to be a musical omnivore. I play instruments that are off the beaten path - harmonica and trombone -so I listen to lots of weird stuff.  Classical music, jazz, blues, R&B, funk, rock, hip-hop, country, Latin music, Irish music, Bangla music and all the other genres coming from cultures in Africa and Asia - it all is worthwhile. I love Dolly Parton, Snarky Puppy & Little Nas X. I am trying to listen to the stuff I don't like - it expands my spirit and with music, there is always more to learn.

Why Make Music?

 

It's pretty easy to list aspects of music. It is ephemeral - you can't touch it. It only exists when it is heard by listeners. While it has no mass, it can profoundly alter the way we view the universe and our place in it. It can change the way we view ourselves and everything outside of ourselves. It can trigger powerful emotions - love, grief, joy, anger and more. Music unites large groups of people - a single anthem can be sung by millions of a nation's citizens and create a sense of connection and shared purpose.

Music is powerful stuff. I have never been clear as to why humans make it, though. It doesn't seem necessary to our survival. I have speculated that it was a subset of our communication skills, or that it began as an imitation of natural sounds. Birds sing, frogs croak, wolves howl, humans copy the noises.

The oldest musical instruments (flutes made of bone and mammoth ivory) discovered by archeologists are 40,000 years old.  By studying fossils and human physiology, scientists have determined that when humans developed the horseshoe-shaped hyoid bone in the throat in a similar position to modern humans, they would have developed the ability to sing as we do today. The fossil record indicates that this occurred around 530,000 years ago.

There must be some evolutionary advantage for humans to be attuned to pitch and tempo. Dopamine is released when we hear pitches that harmonize well together in a mathematical sense - a major triad, for example.

For many generations, music was not a profession. It was an activity that happened in the natural flow of life. In the past few centuries, the concept of music as a "job" developed. Some of the original motivation for creating music has been obscured by careerist striving - make money, compete with other musicians, get famous, become a treasured person in society. These things aren't necessarily bad, but it can lead to a disconnect - music becomes a means to an end rather than an end in itself.

Bob Dylan said " Songs, to me, were more important than just light entertainment. They were my preceptor and guide into some altered consciouness of reality." 

Some people are obsessed by music, others barely notice it. I remember what Edward Elgar said - "My idea is that there is music in the air, music all around us; the world is full of it and you simply take as much as you require."

As I pick up my trombone again or honk on my collection of harmonicas, I try to remember that I am making music only for myself. I feel a deep need to do it and I don't know why this is so. Other people may like it or they may hate it. I'm trying not to care about the opinion of others.

Back to the beginning

 

When I was a kid, I started playing the trombone. The instrument was not my first choice - I was home with a cold when the 5th graders got to pick out instruments from the music department. By the time I was healthy enough to go to school, all of the trumpets and saxophones were taken. All the percussion instruments were also taken. Choices were limited to clarinets, violas or trombones. I took the 'bone because it struck my insecure male brain as the least "feminine" choice. I felt unhappy about it. The instrument is a challenge to play, with a slide instead of keys or valves. Finding the notes was difficult. Embrochure control was critically important And my 5th grade arms could not fully extend the slide - the most extreme extension (aka 7th position) was not available to me. I also had braces and had to put beeswax on the bands to avoid turning the inside of my lips to hamburger. But I liked the sound of the thing. I worked on it, but I was a young beginner and it took a long time to pick up basic skills.

My mom was worried about me. I sucked at sports. I was younger & smaller than the other boys and got bullied on occassion. She decided that the trombone was an interest she should encourage. So I was hooked up with a college kid named John Maltester to get private lessons.  As it turns out, his primary instrument was the bass trombone. He could get an incredible sound and he became a formidable player. I just Googled him and discovered that he has had a long and distinguished career as a college educator, leading orchestras and bands in addition to performing as a trombonist.

I started out playing a beat-up student trombone from my elementary school's inventory. My teacher convinced me and my parents that I needed a better horn. He managed to find a Reynolds Contempora double-trigger bass trombone (used) for a bargain price. I think I was in 8th grade when I took possession of it. The trombone pictured above is the same model. The damned thing weighed a ton, but it was considered a top instrument at the time (late 60's). Bass trombonists in major orchestras (New York Philharmonic, Boston Philharmonic, etc.) used this instrument. The Reynolds Contempora was the first double-trigger bass bone and was first sold in 1958. It ceased production in 1979 when the Reynolds company went bust.

I played this horn through out my high school and college years. I also played tenor trombone and acquired a solid Conn 6H so I could play lead trombone in jazz bands. I played in a circus band one summer, and was part of the horn section in a 1970's funk band. After I got out of grad school and went to work, I set the horns aside. I was too much of a coward to try to make a living in music - it's an insanely difficult and competitive profession. I took an easier path and went into business. I kept my trombones, though, and even set them up on stands in my living room when I moved into my current abode 7 years ago. I thought if I saw them I would be motivated to start playing again.

Nope. They gathered dust and became ornaments, not instruments.

I now have a very good friend who is a world-class flutist. She saw the trombones in my place and gently suggested that I should get them rehabbed in case I want to play them again, She found the top guy in the Chicago area that repairs trombones (Dana Hofer in Des Plaines). I took the horns in and Dana worked them over - they are in good shape now.

After spending the dough to get them fixed, I felt duty-bound to play the damned things. After a decades-long lay-off, I sound pretty bad - back to my 6th grade skill level. I broke out some old exercises and pieces; I have been playing regularly for a couple of weeks. The muscles that make up my embrochure have atrophied. My wind is pathetic. I am having a hard time staying in tune. I am a beginner again. I am back to dealing with the fact that the bass trombone is a harsh mistress.

It's funny, but I am sort of enjoying my incompetence. Since I suck so completely, it feels good when a little progress is made. It feels a bit like a spiritual quest - deploying beginner's mind. I am trying to drop my pre-conceived notions about what I should be able to do. I am working on seeing the horn with fresh eyes, trying to feel curious about the old Reynolds bass trombone and look on this clumsy effort to make music with a sense of wonder.

And I hope to apply this attitude to my life in general. There is so much I don't know, that I don't understand. But I can practice, and I can learn. This old dog wants to learn new tricks.

Turkuaz Is Gone - Dang It!!

 

The pandemic has truly sucked, but one of the bright spots for me over the past two years has been digging into music and artists that I somehow missed. Back in 2008, a group of students from the Berklee School of Music in Boston formed a band that they named Turkuaz. It was a large, ambitious group with singers & horns. The genre was red hot funk.

Funk music feeds my soul. In the words of the great bassist, Bootsy Collins "We're all funky; just not all of us know it." Turkuaz is a group highly-skilled artists look like a bunch of wannabe hipsters, but they are stone-cold killers. Funky as hell.

As is often the case, I was late to this musical party. I started listening to these folks last summer.  The interplay between the members astonished me. It is also amazing to see musical superpowers in action - one of the members of the band, Chris Brouwers, can play trumpet and keyboards at the same time!!! Here's a link to a full Turkuaz concert, done on the internet with no audience about 1 year ago. I encourage you to listen to it in full - it is 71 minutes of awesomeness.

After digging into some of their on-line offerings, I did a little Googling about these folks. I found out that the band blew up in the middle of their fall tour in 2021 - seven of the nine members quit, leaving just the two co-founders.  The tour was cancelled, fans are shocked, and everyone is wondering what happened. 

Here's the announcement that the departing band members released:

We have made the difficult decision to step away from Turkuaz.

We have spent the last several years traveling the world together with the intention of spreading love and joy through our music. During that time, we have grown together as a family, and we’ve learned how to love and support each other through both the best and worst of times.

We stand unified and in full support of one another as we make this decision to end our involvement with Turkuaz. We are eternally grateful to have had the opportunity to perform for all of you, and even more grateful to have become close friends with so many of you along the way.

We thank you for respecting our privacy in this matter, and for your continued support. We are very excited to share the many projects that we’ve all been working on – there are some truly amazing things to come.

The co-founders, guitarist/vocalist David Brandwein and Taylor Shell, said they were surprised by the decision made by their colleagues. Brandwein released a lengthy statement about it - here it is:

I’d like a chance to address the events of the other day, which caught me, Taylor, our fans and many others by surprise. This includes our amazing opening act, Thumpasaurus, and all of the wonderful venues and promoters who were invested in this tour. I’d also like to be extremely clear that I am not here to express any ill will towards anybody. I merely wish to state my feelings on the matter and speak for myself.

I am devastated to be forced to cancel the dates on our calendar, especially in the middle of a tour. The first thing on my mind above all else is the fans. Our only goal in persevering through the nearly-impossible climate of post-pandemic touring was to give to the fans. I could go on about the difficulties of trying to hold together an enormous operation like this under these circumstances, but I would hope that it’s self-evident and that anybody could imagine that the logistics, math and context does not present us with an easy road.

I have also had a very turbulent year personally. I have struggled. Through the pandemic, I’ve confronted obstacles that have changed my life forever. Alcohol abuse, rehab, divorce, sobriety and re-entering the live music world in a scary time. I am not a perfect person by any means, and I am always on a continuous and difficult journey to look inside, improve myself and try to be the best version of myself that I can be.

I am incredibly fortunate to have so many loving friends and family stick by my side through these difficulties, but I also completely understand that after years of complicated relationships, some people just do not feel they can be a part of my life anymore. While this hurts me a lot, I understand they are doing what is best for them and this understanding is a part of the transformation process. In the 6 months I’ve been sober, I’ve tried my best to continue doing my job and navigating things and I wish it had gone differently.

So while I do not understand why this happened this way and at this time, mid-tour, I respect the overall decision that has been made and I wish my former bandmates nothing but good health, success and happiness in all their future endeavors. These people were like family to me, and regardless of what has happened, I know that Taylor and I both cherish and value the experiences we had together with every single one of them. I look forward to playing and releasing more music, whether it be Turkuaz or the many other new, exciting projects I have in the works.

Again, I ask for privacy and respect at this difficult time. I have already received some nasty messages from people I’ve never met before, and I can’t express how much pain this brings me. I think we all could use a lesson in being more gentle, kind and loving — myself included. I hope this finds everybody safe and sound, and that you’re surrounded by positive people who support you and love you. That is the best we can all hope for. 

It sounds like that the stress of the pandemic and David's struggles in his personal life caused this terrific musical group to explode. I hope that these folks put something else together - their music is so incredible. I feel very grateful for the music these folks produced for all of us, and wish them nothing but good things.

Finding Lost Things

 

I am the guardian of a small, one-eyed black dog named Tai. He has been a fine companion through this horrible pandemic, usually cheerful and a very willing walking partner. We walk four times each day, including one long ramble through the neighborhood to our favorite local park. Tai has  been by my side for the past 8 years now, through the break-up of my second marriage, the move out of the marital home, and the myriad of crises that have arisen since the move. Yeah, he's just a dog and has no awareness of human foibles, but he comforted me. During this Covid-19 disaster, Tai helped me to stay somewhat sane.

The other day, Tai and I were on our morning walk. When we got back to the house, my keys weren't in my pocket. Damn! I must have dropped them while pulling the plastic bag from my coat pocket to pick up Tai's poop.  This was not a major calamity since I have spare keys, but it was annoying. I might have to change the locks.  I opened the house with my spare key, put Tai inside and started re-tracing my steps.  I had little hope of finding the keys. It was late autumn, and it was likely that the keys would be obscured by fallen leaves.

I was muttering under my breath. I had screwed up and now I was screwed. There is an alley that Tai and I often walk in the neighborhood - it's Tai's favorite place to drop a deuce.  I crept along behind the houses, eyes on the fence line.  I was on the verge of giving up when I saw something shiny in a pile of oak leaves - my keys!! 

There is no greater joy than finding something important that you were sure was lost.  The day seemed brighter and my elation lasted quite a while.

But of course, I did the same thing again a few days later. This time, I dropped the key to my backyard shed - a bigger problem because I had no spare key in my possession. I re-traced my steps to no avail. And then, yesterday morning, I was on a walk with Tai and a very good friend. I told her of my lost shed key.  She went into search mode, looked at the steps of a neighbor's house and there it was! So once again, I had that jolt of elation. This time, I was saved by my friend.

I have been married twice, divorced twice.  All my other relationships prior to and after my marriages also failed for various reasons that are  too boring and banal to describe in writing.  A few years ago, I gave up. I'm over 65 years old & retired now. I have a dog. I have hobbies. I have children & grandchildren. I have a few good friends. That's enough. I accepted that I had lost the chance to have a life partner.  I have given it the college try. I stopped looking for something I couldn't find.

Last April, I was taking Tai on his long walk through the neighborhood. I heard someone behind me call my name. I turned and saw a woman I knew from the local wine shop. Back in the years before Covid, we both went to the Friday evening wine tastings and we would chat a bit. She joined my dog & me on our walk that day and we had a pleasant conversation. 

And after a few months, I realized I had discovered another thing I had stopped looking for. This is unfolding day by day. I'm trying hard not to screw up or future trip. It's an unexpected chapter. It needs to progress without my efforts to guide or control it.

The past two years have been terrible for the United States, and the world. Covid-19 has killed millions. Trust in experts has faded. It appears that climate change is accelerating. Democracy is under attack. Violent crime is spiking.  But I feel hopeful. For me, something important that was lost has been found.

Brother John is Gone

 

My big brother, John, died early in the morning on August 31. I have been processing this loss for the past two weeks and felt the need to write something about him. The picture above was taken in the summer of 2016 at the Aspen Viewing Area of the Santa Fe National Forest in New Mexico.  This was our last big trip together.

John was born in February 1947, an early Baby Boomer. Our parents were both veterans of World War II - our father served in Europe with Patton's army, our mother served under MacArthur in the Women's Army Corps, mostly in New Guinea. John got to be an only child for almost 8 years as our parents tried to scrape out a living in the San Francisco Bay Area after the war.  New "starter homes" were springing up all over the country for returning service personnel and their young families. In 1953, my parents bought a newly-built 3-bedroom ranch house in the Bonaire neighborhood of San Leandro CA, a town next to Oakland. I arrived in November 1954.  John & I grew up in that house.

John was a high-achieving kid, a stand-out student, an Eagle Scout, president of his class in high school, a varsity swimmer, recipient of a full-ride scholarship to a fine liberal arts school in southern California. I was his annoying kid brother, and I hated following in his footsteps. The guy was so damned accomplished - all the teachers used to throw his excellence and stellar reputation in my face. There was no way I could match my saintly brother's track record. I wasn't quite 10 years old when he graduated from high school and left town in 1964. I wasn't really close to my brother when I was a kid - 8 years is a lifetime for a 10 year old boy, and our worlds were very different when we were under the same roof.

John did many wonderful things. One wonderful thing impacted me when I was still living at home. Our father struggled with alcoholism and bipolar illness when I was in middle school and high school. I didn't have a strong male influence and I was starting to slip into misbehavior. John noticed. He stepped up. He invited me to visit him in his first home after he graduated from college. He would come home and hang out with me. He talked to me about sex, something my parents never did. John filled the gap - he became my mentor when my dad was too sick to play that role. John always showed up when I was in trouble - during my two divorces, during the failure of my business and during the illness and deaths of our parents. He was a rock.

John was a great husband and father. He was a master teacher, who taught at international schools in three different countries and the public schools in Portland OR and  New Orleans LA. He was an enthusiastic outdoorsman, full of skill and resilience. But the amazing thing about John is how he was able to accept everything that life served up, good or bad. His son Joe summarized it well: "My dad always made the best out of every situation."

When he was in his forties, John was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. This was an early onset of the disease - the majority of folks that get Parkinson's Disease are diagnosed after they are 60 years old.  It was a stroke of bad luck, to be sure, but John soldiered on. He kept fighting to retain the things he loved in life for as long as possible. While he was always kind and compassionate, those qualities expanded as the disease progressed.  To make things more challenging, John was also afflicted with severe scoliosis and osteoporosis. He kept moving forward, but the burdens eventually overcame him. These are evil diseases that slowly steal a person's ability to function. John was suffering, especially after his wife, Susan, died in August 2020. I miss him terribly, but I'm glad that he is no longer in pain.

My brother, my mentor, my friend. I am the last surviving member of my family of origin. It is going to be weird to live without John.

Stoic philosophy and Afghanistan

 

I have no significant knowledge when it comes to foreign policy or military strategy. I am an aging white man in the midwestern section of the United States who avoided military service and is repulsed by the idea of a political career. But I have Opinions, of course. And I do believe my Opinions are wise and glorious, even though I have no experience or expertise to support them. So I am probably somewhat delusional.

In view of this disclaimer, here are my thoughts about Afghanistan.

Epictetus, the great Stoic philosopher, lived in Greece between 50 and 135A.D.  One of his core contributions is presented above - we are powerless over most things in this world. We only have power over our own actions, reactions and thoughts. When it comes to other individuals, or groups of people, or actions taken by other humans and non-human creatures, or viruses, or nations, or Nature - we have no real power. We cannot force change and impose our will over these things over the long haul. We can only control ourselves (if we have the self-discipline to do so).

The war that the United States has waged in Afghanistan ignored this core truth. 

The goals of the initial action in Afghanistan were clear - destroy Al Qaeda, catch and/or kill Osama bin Laden, the man that masterminded the 9/11 attacks.  These actions were mostly within the control of the U.S. But then, our government decided that Afghanistan's people and government could be changed to fit the U.S. vision of what an acceptable society should be - the assumption being that this would eliminate future threats from terrorists. In order to do that, we poured money, resources and lives into a 20-year conflict. So our government was trying to force, through military violence and a gusher of money, a massive change on an entire nation. This was a severe case of "mission creep."

This effort was doomed to failure from the beginning. I can't force someone to make a change that I think is "in their own interest." A nation can't force another nation to behave differently. Yes, it is possible to conquer and dominate territory if you are willing to oppress people that disagree with your authority. But even those efforts usually fail unless the conquerors resort to genocide.

The greatest tragedies in the world occur when people, or governments, struggle to control things that are beyond their control. The only outcomes are failure or extermination of the people that won't or can't comply. The U.S. war in Afghanistan is a classic case of ignorance and folly on the part of the leaders of a very powerful nation.  We have nothing to show for the 20 year struggle except for pain, financial losses and embarrassment.

Let's hope that the United States doesn't do this again, but I'm not optimistic.  

What I have Learned from the Pandemic

 

In April, I thought that the pandemic was over. It was a month after I received the J&J "one and done" jab. Vaccination demand was skyrocketing and the primary problem was getting adequate doses to satisfy the folks clamoring for their shots.  The United States went from a high point of over 300,000 new cases a day in early January of this year to under 3,500 new cases on July 4th. I started travelling again and went out to my local restaurants that managed to survive this terrible time.

It looks like I celebrated too early.  We had 108,775 new cases on July 26. The Delta variant is overwhelming the unvaccinated. When cases go up, so do hospitalizations and, eventually, deaths. We are closing in on 300 Covid-19 deaths a day, up from 37 on July 4th. These illnesses and deaths are all voluntary since they are occurring primarily among unvaccinated people. Supply of vaccine doses is no longer a problem.  There are no more supply chain kinks; there are only kinks in the brains of many Americans. They are choosing to believe things about vaccines that can be proven to be untrue.

I'm back to masking when indoors. I am also looking into adding Pfizer or Moderna to my system - the J&J jab doesn't seem to be as effective against Delta as the other vaccines.  I am in the risk group of folks - over 65 years old - so I am interested in bolstering my immune system.  But I'm lucky - I live in Evanston IL, where most people are fully vaccinated.  If I stay in the city limits, the risk is quite low. Covid isn't a crisis anymore for those of us who are vaccinated. It's the unvaccinated people that should be worried. But the kinks in their brains don't allow them to perceive the threat.

I went into isolation on March 12, 2020. I got my jab on March 12, 2021.  I learned a lot during this year + of loss and solitude.  I decided to make a little list.

• Death is right behind us, all the time.  It can be a microscopic virus or a drunk driver or a heart attack or a bullet. Remembering that death is coming for all of us helps me stay focused on the miracle of human existence.
• In addition to being inevitable, death is also random. I tested positive for Covid-19 last fall and had almost no symptoms.  A friend of mine (about my age) caught the bug and was dead in 10 days.
• We can't ignore our losses. I've lost friends to the novel coronavirus. My sister-in-law died during the pandemic (but not due to the virus). Many of my musical heroes caught Covid and died. I have felt numb at times. I need to sit with the losses, not stuff them down and seal them off.
• Great progress can be made in solitude. Sorting out the tangle of past events, finding ways to increase serenity and reducing the crazed "busyness" of modern life have helped me relax a little, finally.
• Grandparents are important. For parents of young children, this pandemic has been really challenging. When grandparents can step up and help with childcare and other parenting work, the pressure on mom and dad becomes more manageable.
• Humans are incredibly adaptable. I have spent a lot of time on Zoom video calls. The platform works well for certain types of interactions.  Technology and government fiscal policy saved the economy from a long, terrible recession. It has been amazing to see resources mobilize to fight this thing.
• Technology can't help us with one problem - lack of human touch and closeness.  A life without handshakes, hugs and kisses is not a complete human life.
• We should not let things go back to normal. I learned that I am more self-sufficient than I realized.  I also learned that I need other people and I need to extend kindness to friends, family and strangers. Self-sufficiency can co-exist with deep connection to others. The pandemic also exposed a truth that we like to ignore - that rich people/white people sail through crises that destroy poor people/people of color. We should not forget what has been fully revealed.
• When all else fails, play the harmonica.

And finally, the pandemic has helped me re-commit to staying in the moment. I am trying harder not to let little bullshit things piss me off.  Whenever I feel my temperature rise over some irritation, I ask myself "How important is this?" Almost always, the answer is "not important at all."