Richie Havens 11/28/09

Had the pleasure of hearing a true folk legend and an icon of perhaps what used to be this past Saturday. Had mixed feelings about attending another ‘legends’ show being hugely disappointed in Dan Hicks and his Mail-it-in Licks. But, in the midst of the hoopla surrounding Woodstock 40 years gone and what this might mean to me, the interviews with Havens were always brisk, coherent (Slick, Crosby, Kornfield . . . take note!), and humorous. So, I went.
First, the venue -- Sanctuary Concerts (sanctuaryconcerts.org) are held, by and large, at a wonderful church in Chatham, NJ. They have been bounced around a bit, but have settled in nicely here. The evenings are down home (donated baked goods, coffee and tea at the breaks), comfortable and well staffed by volunteers who respect both the music and the site.
Richie’s guitarist Walter Parks, a worthy talent in his own right, opened and did a kind of dreamy, almost ethereal half hour of tunes. A guitarist’s guitarist to be sure, he had chops but the set lacked focus and could have been a touch livelier. We were all still in late stage tryptophan withdrawal. Parks has some swamp/roots/boogie leanings and more of that would have been on point. That or Mr. Coffee’s at the head of each pew. His band Swamp Cabbage is worth checking out.
Havens set was a pure delight. As close to magical as I am willing to concede. Opened with All Along the Watchtower and that was preceded by a wonderful shaggy dog story of a first meeting with Mr. Zimmerman as well as his difficulty committing the lyrics to memory. Havens called it “100 different movies”. Some originals from the new disc (the eerily titled “No One Left to Crown”) and beyond were handled superbly. It was here that Parks genius was the most disarming, backing up the Havens open tuning chord forms with non-stop fills, trills and accents.
Watching Havens mix story and song, both audience and performer being well aware of who had who, was like hearing old family stories recounted after a robustly satisfying meal. Heard a few before? Sure enough, but I would go back tonight for a second helping. The Village folk scene, Van Ronk, Odetta, Seeger, stickball in Brooklyn and even the Man of Steel were all on the menu. Havens led the audience through the Superman opening: “Look, up in the sky . . .” riffed on the disengagement going from DC to TV versions of Superman (“Why wasn’t his hair blue?”) and the not so apparently flawed “Truth, Justice, and the American Way.” (Shouldn’t the third principle be already self-contained in the first two?) Richie smiled slyly, letting that incongruous fact sink in.
Huge time pay off with the encore. After finishing the set with a little ditty entitled “Freedom” (he might find a niche with this one), followed by a big time karate kick (dude is close to 70, no?) Richie launched into a medley of Maggie’s Farm and Won’t Get Fooled Again. Emotionally charged, thematically similar, doing exactly what an encore is supposed to do they were both well played, lifting the crowd up in more ways than one.
Would you wait almost an hour to get a CD signed? We did (Christmas gifts) and had a wonderful visit with a legend in his own time. (Everyone signs CD’s right? Only mine says “friends forever” . . . I was totally blissed.) Havens had spoke of the New York City Board of Ed owing him perhaps thousands in confiscated comics over the years, I laughingly told him I would do what I could with my current employer, offering him 10 cents on the dollar, for now. He laughed long and loud at the prospect. We took a picture and off into the night.

Bloomberg cracks down on aimless walking and "strolling" in NYC.

Citing numerous productivity losses and noticing a distinct lack of sidewalk space, Mayor Bloomberg issued the following edicts:-- all pedestrians must have at least two of the following: water/coffee (any spillable liquid), cell phone or approved electronics, yoga mat, ethnic food item, dog(s) or baby carriage-- if unable, unwilling or simply uninterested in yoga, you must at least carry the purple mat or a note from a physician citing what the heck is wrong with you-- likewise coffee and water – walking police (WP’s) can not assume an enlarged prostate given your gender or age, you must carry documentation!-- baby or pet carriages: must have a ‘street’ value of at least $1500, an unpronounceable, vaguely Scandinavian name and be equipped with the requisite cup holders-- someone texting always has the right of way-- someone blue-toothing may or may not ‘be talking to you’ – Be Alert!-- those simply ‘going for a walk’ or ‘taking some air' will need a note from a licensed therapist.Speaking either to reporters or someone on the phone the mayor continued: "While we are extremely proud to host the New York City Marathon, we can not and will not condone a reckless and aimless use of our thoroughfares and sidewalks by a few meanderers."

The Emperor Has No Clothes Tour
The Dead -- 2009


. . . Or the “Our 401k’s Tanked Too Tour” (rather unwieldy but a great merch tie in!) “Stanford Costs A Lot More than I Thought Tour”. It’s dizzying, the possibilities. So this is it, the end of the line. The five stages of grief took fourteen years to play out but here we are – acceptance. The Grateful Dead is over, done. Gone but certainly not forgotten. First, a disclaimer – I don’t review concerts or shows or bands for a living or even for a laugh. Second, I have seen the Grateful Dead well over 200 times, seen many (most) of their post-Jerry line ups and heard them all from the original Phil Lesh and Friends through The Other Ones, The Dead, Ratdog and even Dark Star Orchestra (whose only affiliation is that they blow all the aforementioned away in terms of recreating a Grateful Dead-like experience – you have to get around the Weir/simulacrum guy however, his stage presence is too dead-on, tics intended).

This latest incarnation is an abomination from the word go. For me it started with the ticket prices – an otherworldly figure of $115 for a show – one Dead show! I saw this deal for a mere $50 (along with the Allman Brothers) at an Obama fund-raiser in Penn State back in the fall. Shoulda quit while I was ahead. That was fun. Low key, no frills and fewer expectations. A stripped down stage, primitive lighting, no merchandise and general admission seating all brought me back to the college bound tours of the 1970’s. Any way – fast forward to now. The Dead Reunion Tour (can anyone photo-shop three sleeping ‘dancing bears’ or maybe a yawning Steal Your Face?) I missed the Taxi Tour ’09 (you had to get to 3 separate venues in Manhattan – get it?) probably due to the fact that I don’t visit Dead.net 3 times a day. But I did hear it and I chalked it up to a kind of open rehearsal thing. The ensuing tour has had more musical low spots and more questionable song selection than I care to deal with.

First, the line up, Warren Haynes is no Jack Kennedy or whatever the cliché du jour is. He is a formidable guitar player who has found a wonderful niche in Government Mule (if you’re looking for four and a half hours of inventive covers, high decibel rock and roll, cool set lists and mind numbing guitar work, check them out.) But fellows – he just don’t work in this line up. At best he is a one trick pony, way guilty of overexposure and shackled here by some monumental expectations. Phil and Bobby (how long do we continue to call a 60 year old ‘Bobby’?) – Shame on you. Write a freaking song and stop turning this into a 60’s cover band. For a hundred bucks I can’t get a new tune?!? I love Lesh – been there, got the sticker, but he just can not sing! Evocative, emotion laden – maybe, but spare me this experience on a regular basis. Weir singing Bird Song, Ramble On Rose and on and on is quite possibly criminal.

I was at the Continental Izod Men’s Warehouse Arena the other night and I must admit I lost control of my expectations. Branford Marsalis had played the night before (he was sound checking Crazy Fingers when we arrived). That was the only imprimatur that I needed. Good enough for Branford, good enough for me. People were raving about the night before, top ten Branford show or something – comparing it to 9/10/91. When people rave about this band and begin to rank the shows I think of that clever t-shirt that lists songs, venues and concerts -- 2300 or so . . . So the best show by any band since 1995 would have to be 2300 + 1 or some such. You can, by now, see where I am going with this. The first set was . . . excruciating. I can think of no better word. The Crazy Fingers was inspired and lofty but the rest: slow, slower, slowest. Days Between? There are days indeed; Touch of Grey and Casey Jones for those greatest hits aficionados among us; Deal (see above.) The second set fared no better although someone on Dead.net called it ‘magnificent’. Now by whose standards I am not quite sure. The ‘mini-reviews’ are located between the download link (should you want to actually own one of these gems) and the merchandise. You can amazingly get a link to Nightfall of Diamonds on the same page; an official 1989 release from the same venue, nineteen bucks and around eight for postage – hmmm, so I coulda bought five 10/16/89’s for the price of one 4/29/09 -- you do the math.

You know, I really didn’t want to do this. Trash the band I love and its surviving members. Tear apart the last thing (hopefully) that they might bring to the table musically. But I do feel that someone has to tell ya the truth, as I see it. The emperor is old and naked – anyone got a tie dyed sheet?

Allen Toussaint at Joe's Pub -- 2/15/09

Wonderful show at a wonderful venue! Prolific songwriter, roots New Orleans piano, soulful vocals, engaging, witty, humble . . . all that in a charming setting. (claustrophobics need not apply). A gentleman and New Orleans ambassador of music, Mr. Toussaint basically laid it down for all to see. Toussaint remarked that it was a “blessing of Katrina” that got him on the road and back in New York City for this weekly series (2 shows remain: 2/22 & 3/1). An hour and forty five minutes of song, story, recollections, “mister, throw me something” and an up close look at his new Grammy! Mid-way through the show he unveiled his prize possession much to the delight of an already appreciative crowd. Joe's Pub is a small, distinctively New York hideaway – better than expected food, great service and an abiding respect for the music are all hallmarks of Joe Papp’s club. He started off with an instrumental warm up that may indeed have had over 50 references, homage’s and teases. He explained that he would be performing songs he wrote, songs he didn’t but wished he had, and, songs he didn’t and was glad of. In the first two categories lay the high points. The only song, to my recollection not penned by Toussaint was a poignant rendition of Marty Robbins’ El Paso. Musical incongruities aside – it was probably the biggest reach of the afternoon, and it worked. He followed that with a little story about a musicologist’s opinion that “Get out My Life Woman” was perhaps his most recorded song, not to let it go at that, Toussaint opined that his favorite version was by “Jerry Garcia of the Grateful Dead”.
I would like to tell you that that brought down the house, but perhaps it was only my small table . . . I thanked him afterwards for the wonderful El Paso, and the props for Jerry, mentioning that I was a huge fan – and it seemed that he was too. He said he’s see us at Jazz Fest, and whether we meet again or not – for an afternoon in New York City I was charmed and enthralled by both a musical giant and a gentleman of the people.

Bill Graham, a ghoul and (maybe) the best Dark Star ever!

New York, nEW yORK -- February 197013th & 14thFillmore East (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fillmore_East)
Hosted by Zacherele( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Zacherle) longtime WPIX staple, and Phiily native -- now what's a ghoul got to do with a Valentine's Day gig I am not quite sure. Actually four shows (!) early and late Friday (the 13th, just like today) and early and late Saturday, Valentine's Day (http://www.deadlists.com/). Stream it (http://www.archive.org/details/gd1970-02-13.early.sbd.gans.2208.sbeok.shn), download it, buy it "Bears Choice Volume 1" Dick's Picks 4 but give this a listen this weekend . . . may restore your faith in all things good and natural and most especially . . . Good Ole Grateful Dead

And so, indeed it is . . .

Nobel Prize for Pete Seeger!

THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND


This land is your land, this land is my land
From California to the New York Island
From the Redwood Forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking that ribbon of highway
I saw above me that endless skyway
I saw below me that golden valley
This land was made for you and me.

I roamed and I rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
While all around me a voice was sounding
Saying this land was made for you and me.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
A voice was chanting, As the fog was lifting,
This land was made for you and me.

There was a big high wall there that tried to stop me;
Sign was painted, it said private property;
But on the back side it didn't say nothing;
That side was made for you and me.

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

This land is your land, this land is my land
From California to the New York Island
From the Redwood Forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me.

Pass the Donuts!

"Krispy Kreme Doughnuts, Inc. is honoring American's sense of pride and freedom of choice on Inauguration Day, by offering a free doughnut of choice to every customer on this historic day, Jan. 20. By doing so, participating Krispy Kreme stores nationwide are making an oath to tasty goodies -- just another reminder of how oh-so-sweet 'free' can be."

Well, The American Life League noticed the liberal use of the word choice and decided to blast the chain bakery for producing abortion doughnuts."The unfortunate reality of a post-Roe v. Wade America is that 'choice' is synonymous with abortion access, and celebration of 'freedom of choice' is a tacit endorsement of abortion rights on demand," the group's president, Judie Brown said in a statement.

New York City Unveils Water-less Urinals!

(my first choice was 'debuts' but the assonance was too tempting to pass up, although I hope I haven't opened a keg of nails with assonance, for the places to put one's assonance are on the opposite wall behind a series of well thought out partitions)

Can it be? The future is indeed now. Not too sure how high the priority of saving water is that we can't even properly flush our liquid waste into the waste stream. Perhaps if we (us, the U.S., could come to terms with gray water and black water and the like . . .) But more than the incredibility of the idea is the location -- the Port Authority Bus Terminal!

Flushed with pride as I am as both a New Yorker and a commuter, I have to question the wisdom of the attempt to try these things out here. Long synonymous with the underbelly of New York (while cognisant of certain attempts to reverse that trend) this is not exactly the home of the gentleman restroom user. Far from it!

Notice the lack of any valveage or handles or motion detectors of any sort. Gone too is the pleasant enough urinal 'cake' enclosed these days in a little plastic mesh apparatus. You can imagine the commotion I caused just trying to snap this picture. (The attendant on duty asked if I was from 'the TV'.) While I regrettably informed the happy employee that I was taking this picture for personal use only I wondered why this had not hit the main . . . (um) . . . stream media. Perhaps already splashed across the pages of trade journals, I bring it to you here. (Salon and Huffington, please take note.)