Active Listening

Tom Waits – Glitter and Doom Tour – 6.26.08 Fox Theatre, St. Louis, MO.

Alas friends, comrades and fellow musicians – I can finally check off one item on that long list of things to do before I die: Last Thursday night – my longtime friend, co-worker and music aficionado, ‘Tito’ and I witnessed Tom Waits in concert at the beautiful Fox Theatre in St. Louis.  It was everything we could have hoped for despite the flood waters that threatened our journey as highway closings were narrowly avoided towards the Iowa / Missouri border. Thankfully Mother Nature let us pass without so much as raindrop – or what could have amounted to an incredibly long detour.  (Though the black murkiness of the mighty Mississippi loomed ever so near the road the entire distance of the trip – and partially submerged farm buildings made the landscape a grim site to behold.)

But back to Mr. Waits – who made us wait patiently (well almost patiently) in our seats until 9 pm before taking the stage. This - a minor inconvenience – as the Fox Theatre is lavishly decorated in an Indian motif that rendered the atmosphere breathtaking. With all the velvet carpet and marble pillars – the winking ruby-eyed lions sculpted out of bronze and intricately cut stone ornaments carved right up to the sky-lit ceilings, one was never at a loss for passing the time in quiet observation. We soaked it all in and conversed with the friendly folks around us as well. (Side note: Waits attracts a crowd unlike any gathering I have been a part of before – there were oddball representatives from every niche of society. This is a topic unto itself.)

Tom took to the stage under eerie lighting one part moonlit night, one part junkyard spotlight and two parts jukebox barroom glow. It was as surreal as Blue Ruin tobacco and Crows-Wing leather playing cards. The Fox Theatre is not a smoky roadside grease-barn on the outskirts of L.A., but Mr. Waits took great pains to make it seem as if he had just stumbled in off the desert highway caked with dust and in need of a whiskey sour. He quenched redemption in the form of a boot-black microphone all the while stomping on a contraption throughout the show geared up to set off the mechanical clang of a school-bell – one ring per stomp. For the next two-plus hours – we were treated to the glitter and doom that is Tom Waits.

As you can expect – his band was a crew of sublime musicians you probably never even knew existed. Omar Torrez dazzled with beautiful flamenco-styled guitar intros built into traditional Waits material. Vincent Henry had an arsenal of so many woodwind instruments surrounding him one never knew which he would summon at a given time – except that any of the numerous unidentifiable sounds being laced throughout the music was more than likely coming from that side of the stage. The stand-up bass and drums chugged along like a belching steam locomotive through mountainous terrain. (I also noted that the drummer put away his brushes for much of the set list – a little unusual – but effective in delivering a crack to the usually bristling swagger and swing of the material.) The band assembled rehearsal-style – in a circle – Mr. Waits revolving like a drunken marionette center-stage – ringmaster of a deranged carnivale`.

There was no shortage of enthusiasm – both onstage and in the crowd – but seldom have I witnessed such polite and keen listening as at this show. The audience almost never stood – but held unwavering vigil in their seats stage-side as though deep in the grips of a fever dream. Waits barked out tune after tune – often using his voice as the singular percussive instrument that it doubles as. It was well into the set before the stories came – but you knew they would – and as Tom frolicked about at the piano he treated us to some biting anecdotes like the cantankerous old man at the bar who wants to show you his own twist on the quarter and shot-glass trick – for a dollar.

I generally never make a concentrated effort to remember the set-list – but I decided this time to give it a try. What songs I didn’t recognize – I named with an appropriate lyrical reference to look up later. (‘Lucinda’ I had titled as ‘William the Pleaser’ right off the bat as I couldn’t recall the first song.) I later compared my mental notes to someone who posted the night’s set-list online-and I fared pretty well.

Some notable standout songs: Falling Down (Tom taking this one back from Scarlet Johanssen and Bowie who covered it recently – and a very good rendition they did too, I might add.) Get Behind the Mule – which was unrecognizable for the longest time – nearly a jam of guitar and banjo. Cemetery Polka – The song that instantly made a Tom Waits fan out of me from the very beginning. I hadn’t counted on him to pull this one out of his eight-ball bowler. Lost in the Harbor – because of the complex but beautiful passages of this song I wouldn’t have thought it could be pulled off live – but what the hell do I know? It was delicious. What’s He Building? As creepy and disturbing as the studio version – possibly more so – because we were witnessing the weirdness. The encore featured Anywhere I lay my Head- as intimate a version as if we were all in Nitengale’s (2^nd ave – NYC).  Waits invited the crowd to sing along on the closer Innocent when you Dream and that alone was worth the price of admission. (A sing-along to Tom Waits??? Yes – it happened, I kid you not.)

When the lights went up – Tito and I knew we had witnessed quite a spectacle. Glitter and doom indeed.

***Footnote: Though some fans did not appreciate it – I welcomed the anti-scalping approach to selling tickets for the show. 2 tickets max per person – and for will-call pickup, ID and the credit card used to purchase the tickets had to be presented at the box office. This approach served the dual purpose of foiling the money-grubbing scalpers and allowing fans to secure seats that couldn’t camp out at the box office or sit online to wait for tickets to go on sale the day of the show. I had all but resigned myself to the fact that the show would sell out in seconds – when in fact over a week later there were still some left for the taking. Cheers to that!

A big thank you to Tito for supplying the vehicle, taking care of the gas and ensuring we had plenty to eat and drink before the show – (the sneaky bear even picked up the tab for that). All I had to do was drive and show up. The eight hours of our road-trip conversation ended far too soon and bookmarked the 24 total hour trip duration – almost to the minute.

And of course thanks also to my lovely wife for securing the tix and a nearby hotel. She’s the bomb when it comes to that stuff.

Big smiles all around! – joe

Tom Waits – Glitter and Doom Tour – 6.26.08 Fox Theatre, St. Louis, MO.

1.      Lucinda

2.      Way Down In The Hole

3.      Falling Down

4.      Black Market Baby

5.      All The World Is Green

6.      Hi Ho

7.      Get Behind The Mule

8.      Day After Tomorrow

9.      Cemetery Polka

10.     Hang Down Your Head

11.     A Little Rain

12.     Lucky Day

13.     Johnsburg, IL

14.     Lost In The Harbour

15.     Make It Rain

16.     Lie To Me

17.     On The Other Side Of The World

18.     Singapore

19.     Dirt In The Ground

20.     What’s He Building?

21.     16 Shells

22.     Rain Dogs/Band introduction

Encore:

1.      Goin’ Out West

2.      Anywhere I Lay My Head

3.      Innocent When You Dream

An ode to public cell phone users…in the spirit of Bukowski

Put down that cell phone before I kill you

As rude as the smoker
More frequent and annoying than the telemarketer
As dangerous as the drunk driver
As thoughtless as the serial killer
Public cell phone users

(I’d rather a knife through my ear, please)
Than listen to the soul-sucking wag of tongues
Flickering over their neon keypads
The ubiquitous cell phone user has invaded every corner of public society
And infected it with wasted and butchered dialogue
For all within earshot to hear

A cancerous virus of inconsideration
They are on the buses
In cafés and coffee shops
They’ve infiltrated once quiet bookstores and parks
Where the echo of their vapid discourse continues to resonate
Long after they’ve moved on to the next trite conversation

Their diatribe and laughter and exclamations
Of joy and sorrow and indignation
Are a poor reflection of the basest mediocrity
Their bloviated inanities rudely poke the sides of us
Who want nothing more than to avoid
This assault on our individual introspections  
Their words linger in the air
Like the poisonous formaldehyde of cigarettes
And always drifts towards those of us
Who can stand it the least

They are blind pilots of ignorance to all around them
Behind the wheel is no exception
That their own and others lives are in peril
Is of no consequence or concern
The speedometer is neglected
Nearly as much as the mirrors and windows
As if they are the last drivers of the apocalypse
On deserted roads carved out to the respective paths
Of their superficial existence

Drive on, construction worker
In the pickup with the 10-ton payload
One hand to steer is enough to stay clear-and that could be
But why are you always driving right behind me?

Drive on, soccer mom
In the mini van with the kids in the back
The gossip is good and going slow is okay
But please not on the entrance ramp to the freeway

Question the public cell phone user:
Do you know?
That your voice is significantly louder
We can hear you better
Than the person who is supposed to be listening to you
That the people around you just don’t care
Where you are meeting this Friday after work
Or what shoes go best with that plum dress-you know the one – the one with the white flowers on it

We don’t. 

Do you know?
We’re touched that you love your girlfriend
But say it to her face, she’ll appreciate it more
That your conversation is so disjointed
Pointless and uninteresting
That it’s impossible to ignore –like an aural wreck on the highway
That everyone around you is silently cursing your existence
Thinking bad things about your mother
And hoping the brain tumor develops sooner rather than later

We are all thinking these things and more, dear public cell phone user…believe it.
You have died a thousand times at the hands of total strangers.

Even through headphones of our IPOD’s
Your dull, half-witted speech snakes its way into our ears

The drone of insignificance deafens

So please – put it down.
Killing you may be out of the question…
But to slap the shit out of you might be worth the charges.  

I purchased this for $1 back in 1992 from an old man who sat on the sidewalk between 8oth and 81st streets on Manhattan’s Upper West Side. I don’t know that the jpeg picture will do it justice - but if you can magnify it - you’ll see the incredible detail that went into this. There are numerous messages here - some coded in some cryptic manner - others more discernable. I found it so facinating that I went back and bought several more copies. He was a gray, grizzled old gentleman who spoke not a word - and had several copies of these printed off lying under a coffee mug to which a small $1 sign was taped. His eyes never left the sidewalk as I approached and placed my money in the cup. He simply pulled out a sheet and pushed it forward.

I could look at this for hours and question…the symbols - where did they come from? What do they mean? What do they stand for? Who was this man? Where did he come from? What does it all mean? The mystery intrigues.

So - I made up my own answers. The old man was Kilgore Trout - and this piece of paper is the combination to unlocking the secret keys to the universe.

Go to it.

You can see a magnified copy here:

http://www.artneverdies.com/images/TSR-Images/2007-03-04-1218-18.jpg

Kilgore Trout - self portrait

Wilco - Iowa Memorial Union; October 14th 2007.

Wilco is one of those bands I’ve been on the fence about for years. It seems to me that they can be astonishingly great or surprisingly dull. Years ago - a musician friend of mine loaned me a copy of their double disc: Being There. He swore it was brilliance - musical genius - nearly the best thing ever recorded. Had he not so highly recommended it, I wouldn’t have listened to it in its entirety over 50 times trying to figure out what he thought was so great about it. To me - it was forgettable mediocrity from the first listen to the last.

So, when Wilco followed up a few years later with critically acclaimed Summerteeth CD, I disregarded it as well as my musician friend who was formerly so hell-bent to impress on me the glorious musical heights Wilco had climbed to. I wanted none of it. I had given them a shot already - I was resolved that they simply were not for me. Wilco and I were oil and water.

Not long after relating this story - a co-worker of mine handed me a copy of A.M. He assured me that it would win me over by virtue of it’s ‘twang’ appeal. I gave it a listen right then and there and found he was right. It was no Copperhead Road - but the songs resonate a road-worn vibrancy and before long I was tapping along with the likes of Casino Queen and Passenger Side.

With the release of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, Wilco would officially stand up and be counted. With the buzz surrounding this record, you’d have to have lived in a cave to brush off the magnitude of its impact. Hell, even if you hate Wilco - you have to admire any band that goes toe to toe with their record company over creative license. (And gets shit-canned by them, no less.) Ah, will record company execs ever truly understand music, musicians and marketing? Could they really not have foreseen that dumping Wilco and refusing to release YHF would only result in a mass exodus of music fans clamoring to hear it? And smartly, Wilco went right along with it - making it available online before being snapped up by another label only too happy to release it.  (Radiohead was most certainly taking notes.) The bittersweet irony of this story is the label that pounced on YHF was actually a spin off of the label that dumped them in the first place. So in effect - the label paid twice for the same product.

Media blitz aside - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot exemplifies true brilliance indeed; testing the bounds of production experimentation while maintaining the integrity of its well written and arranged songs. The songs are truly stars - and no matter the bells and whistles, rhythm shifts, loops and the constant dropping in and out of various instrumentation - the material shines throughout it all - an unequivocal testament to their greatness.

Wilco’s following release – A Ghost is Born, is also very good – particularly considering how it came on the heels of YHF. (How do you top that?) For all intents and purposes –YHF is Wilco’s Sergeant Pepper. The band buzzed through town during this tour – and sadly I missed them. I suspect what kept me away was the fear that my now upbeat admiration for the band would be spoiled by a less than stellar live performance of those same YHF songs which had held up so gracefully under the jagged blade of its out- on-a-limb production. 

So despite these two very wealthy contributions to my music collection – I wasn’t completely convinced that Wilco and I had put our oil and water days behind us. After all – there was still the memory of that confounded double disc. And for that matter – I was never all that taken with the Wilco-tempered renditions of Woody Guthrie’s lost songs on Mermaid Avenue. (Billy Bragg, however – did not disappoint – but then, does he ever?)

The mixed reviews of Sky Blue Sky were enough of a deterrent for me to steer clear. (Pitchfork tagged it as ‘dad rock’- yikes!) Notwithstanding, when they rolled through town this time, my wife picked us up some tickets.

The IMU is a great venue – small enough to be intimate, big enough to provide charm for the heavy hitters to come in and thoroughly rock the joint. To our great satisfaction, Wilco did just that. They hit the stage and racked up song after song (I’m assuming from the new record) for the first half-hour, then settled in and played nearly everything off of YHF and A Ghost is Born. The rave in this review is that they preserved to a T the integrity of the intricately produced material off of YHF. All the ringing alarm clocks, sfx, percussive drop ins and outs and radio static etc were rendered sonically beautiful and in their respective positions. I expected Wilco to be good – but admittedly, I didn’t expect them to be as good as they proved to be. Not to mention – they rocked a lot harder than I thought they would. The often quiet, under-emphasized gems off of A Ghost is Born were driven home soundly like spikes into rails.  (Rich attributes their newfound punch to the addition of Nels Cline-and I have to concur.)

Whether or not Wilco can or will deliver on their records is a moot point – one, which will continue to be debated. But on this night in Iowa City – the band unquestionably served up piping hot rock and roll…and we feasted.    

Time for a new post. How about a brief synopsis of a few concerts attended lately?

Part One: 09.08.07 - Rush - Tinely Park, IL
Say what you will about these aging art rockers – Rush’s live show certainly doesn’t show any signs of weariness after 30 + odd years together. I first saw these cats way back on the ‘Hemispheres’ tour in 1978. (Notably, it was the first concert I ever attended.) In light of that, my sweet and lovely wife thought it would be nice to treat me to a 2007 version of the band and so purchased some very expensive front-row tickets for a show in a small amphitheater just outside of Chicago. (Named after some bank I’m sure).

In anticipation of the event, I went out and bought a copy of their latest album (can I still use that term these days?) ‘Snakes and Arrows.’  As much as I consider myself a fan, I have not purchased anything by the band since 1984, that being ‘Grace Under Pressure’. Admittedly, I could not stomach much of the material after that – as they seemed to be going in a musical direction more synth-based than the sonic overtures I had become accustomed to in their earlier days. (I challenge even the staunchest Rush fan to tell me they actually like ‘ The Big Money.’)  All that aside I was more than willing to listen with fresh ears. (A front row seat will do that for you.)

I was happy to find ‘Snakes and Arrows’ a return to form. I’ll give you a quick CD review – if you like Rush even just a little, you’ll love the new disc. If you never really got into Rush – there’s nothing new here that will make a fan out of you. Love or hate them, the lyrics are stylistically recognizable Neil Peart musings –though with touches of politically charged sentiments reflecting the dark state of the world that ring fresh. And as always – Geddy, Alex and Neil simply put on a clinic of unrivaled musicianship, scorching their way through the tracks as though they have something to prove. (They certainly don’t – but it sure is nice that they care enough about what they’re doing to release quality material.) Here’s a newsflash: Rush are as comfortable with orchestra-like arrangements, wickedly perverse time signatures and key changes as emo bands are with eyeliner. Nothing has changed over the years in that respect.

The live performance this night in Tinley Park was exemplary. No opening band – just two full sets of Rush dedicated to showcase the new songs and brush the dust off of the old songs – a pleasing combination of stage show effects painstakingly choreographed to follow the set-list down to the most precise details. Whoever put it together knew they wouldn’t have to worry about the band failing to hit their marks. With the addition of HD technology on three huge screens it really didn’t matter what seat you were in – the band members were figuratively and literally in the faces of the crowd.

I found myself elatedly cheering the ever-understated genius of Alex Lifeson – alternately soaring through breakers of riffage and seat-planting power-chords to the soft spattered notes of rain-drop acoustic guitar. He can and does spin out these changes of sound on the turn of a dime – hail him.

It was often difficult to know whom to pay attention– Geddy – effortlessly pulling on the strings of his bass as though they were nothing more than big rubber bands, delivering enough thick black booms to level the place; or Neil Peart who is – simply put: Neil Peart. I realized mid-way through the event what a tremendous impression this band made on me way back when…I mean my freaking PIN number is still 2112! (Oops - did I just knowingly reveal that?)

Needless to say it was a great night. Ah yes, the front row seats were great – but I don’t think anyone left there without feeling like they got more than their money’s worth. Color me rocked out!

There may be those who turn up their nose to the apparent loftiness of Rush (and that in itself is pure irony). But these cats impressed me as plain old down-to-earth rockers who are just damn good at what they do. 
 

hgl played their last show on new years day 1988- concluding their set with a version of the rites of spring song ‘drink deep’- “drink deep/its just a taste/and it might not come this way again”.

no one expected the band would last. rites of spring only played 14 shows before breaking up so hgl couldn’t be expected to do more.

there are no proper studio recordings – i try to imagine what could have happened if they had managed to record. and i come up blank. but, shortly after the band ended, guy released a 6 song ep on his peterbilt label (actually distributed by amanda mackaye’s label at the time.. name escapes me..) the record was all live recordings. the sleeve was a manila envelope with a picture glued on the envelope. not all the people in the photo were in the band. the insert was merely a business card with the song titles and a list of names (those in the band and others) not quite written in a way that made immediate sense.

outside of washington, dc we heard rumors of this bands existence but we weren’t prepared for the sheer perversity of it all. i recall at the time maximum rocknroll compared them to flipper which i do not think was accurate at all. –you have to understand where i’m coming from here, and in these days of the internet where everything is available at the click of a mouse it may be hard to comprehend. (there are no rumors anymore. myth is dying.) i never saw RoS play (til live videos showed up on youtube) but heard rumors that both the band members and the audience would be moved to tears by the power of the music and at the end of the set the stage would be littered in flowers and broken guitars. and when the RoS lp came out, it seemed to support this. the woodcut artwork, the deeply passionate, emotional songs –‘deeper than inside’, ‘hains point’, ‘end on end’, ‘persistent vision’ and ‘theme (if i started crying)’ where guy sang “and if i started crying/would you start crying?”. so this is where i stood. i’d heard from those in the know that one last wish was a similar affair only more pop (it was til the early 90s that i managed to score a copy of it from guy picciotto). so when i put the needle on this strange looking hgl record – looking more like a piece of art then an ep – i was pretty stunned.

i think any written piece on the relatively obscure washington, dc band  happy go licky must be written in fragments cause that is how their music sounded. art damaged pieces of something thrown and pasted together. wooley bulley.

there was an article/interview with them posted at the washington city paper website (i believe) but my google search has come to naught. i have a printed copy of it at home but i can’t seem to find where i put it. when i do i’ll re-transcribe it along with a couple brief email exchanges w guy picciotto and mike fellows.

a backwards history would go something like… guy (gtr/vocals), mike (bass/vocals), eddie janney (bass/vocals) and brenden canty (drums) were in rites of spring together in 1985-86. the revolution summer era. they broke up after 1 great lp and a really good (though poppier) posthumous ep. after RoS, guy, eddie and brendan joined up with mike hampton (ex-embrace) and played shows and recorded a demo under the name one last wish. OLW was poppy, seemed to be following the direction charted on the RoS ep. OLW didn’t last very long. they broke up, and guy, eddie and brendan went back to the basement to start practicing again. soon they were rejoined by mike.

read something the other day that compared hgl to ‘document and eyewitness’ era wire. as i’ve never bought that album i’m not sure what to say.

during this 8 month or so period in time the band fugazi was forming. brendan was sitting in on drums for them until they could find a permanent drummer. once hgl ended his seat became permanent and guy joined the fold as well.  mike started little baby with 3 ex-soulside (and future girls against boys members) and eddie i believe went to art school.

Worthless information? Maybe.

At three minutes and four seconds after 2 AM on the 6th of May this year, the time and date will be 02:03:04 05/06/07

In other news, it appears that R. Kelly was so moved by the Virginia Tech tragedy, he wrote a song and is dedicating 100% of the profits to the Hokie Spirit Memorial fund. While I initially found this commendable, I was then treated to a sneak peak at some of the lyrics in his tribute song: “Rise Up.”

I don’t know about you, but I can’t wait for the next verse, in which he will undoubtedly rhyme “fire” with “desire.”