The Jacques Dialogues: Ear Relevance

Is guitar playing lethal? Or is it genius that is lethal? Jacque's current list of the all time greatest guitarists includes:

• Baden Powell
• Django Reinhardt
• Ida Presti

Of course, he found it hard to omit Wes Montgomery, Charlie Christian, Garoto, and Agustin Barrios.

He thought it strange that, with the exception of Barrios and Powell, none of them lived past 50. Is this just coincidence or just a question of selective perception? After all, Segovia lived to a ripe old age.

Don Helms: R.I.P

There was a time when I thought country music was beneath contempt. Then I heard Hank Willams and everything changed. I loved Hank from the minute I heard him. It wasn't long before I was soaking up all the Honky Tonk I could find: Ernest Tubb, Lefty Frizzel, Faron Young, then Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings and so many others (not to overlook Jerry Lee, who is for my money the greatest country singer of them all). But back to Hank. Any time I listen to him the music sounds fresh, alive, and urgent;and that unforgettable voice--unadorned, harsh, cutting and drenched in the blues. And Don Helm's steel guitar was the perfect foil.

The Helms tone -- piercing and stark -- was completely distinctive and thankfully devoid of the syrupy, bathetic sound of so much steel guitar. It was ideally suited to Hank and the Drifting Cowboys. And while I'm at it, the sound of the Drifting Cowboys itself is under-appreciated. The jazzy guitar, driving acoustic rhythm and Helms's steel guitar codified an unforgettable, genre-defining sound. In their own way, and in the country genre, the Cowboys were just as perfect an ensemble as, say, Little Walter's Jukes, Muddy's early bands, Django's groups with Grappelli, even Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie's early bands (I am partial to the sessions with Big Sid Catlett on drums, but it's hard to argue with Max Roach).

But back to Don Helms. I was saddened to hear of his passing today. R.I.P Don and say hi to Hank for me.
Times Obituary

Distant Music, Part 3

Written and recorded by yours truly. The title says it all; if only I had carried through on it. Personnel: JB on guitar and vocals, Bob Guida, Bass, and ?? I can't remember the guy's name on drums. Anyway, Pas mal du tout, non?

JB Lenoir: A Natural Man with an Unnatural Beat

There's nothing in the blues like JB Lenoir's Natural Man. You can go through all the Chess, Excello, VeeJay, Sun, sides that you want, and I really doubt you'll ever hear a beat like this. Where did it come from? Lenoir turns the beat inside out and upside down. Breaking all conventions, the drummer smacks the snare on the 1 and the 3 while the rest of the band plays on the usual 2/4. It is chaotic and wonderful.

JB himself is playing a boogie bottom with a horn section riffing along. As for the bass, I'm not sure what is going on there. But somehow it works and hangs together, how, I don't know. Everyone is pretty much playing in a different time signature.

But this was no screw-up. There's many more of these "inside out" 1/3 blues by Lenoir. He must have wanted it this way, and you know, he was right. No one and nothing else sounds like him.
Natural Man

Cleveland: Home of Rock and Roll?

I was just in Cleveland and once again began to ruminate on the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Putting it in Cleveland is really a joke. I know that christening the birthplace of any style is less than an exact science. Where is the birthplace of jazz? What about blues? There's lots of reasonable candidates. But for Rock?? There is room for debate, but the last place I would pick would be Cleveland. Especially when it is very, very clear that Memphis is unquestionably more suited to this dubious honor. Memphis had Sun Records and Sun had Elvis, Jerry Lee, Carl Perkins, Howlin Wolf, Jackie Brenston/Ike Turner. Sun had the slapback echo, brilliant brainchild of the real genius of Rock and Roll: Sam Phillips. So, lets set the record straight. Memphis is the home of Rock and Roll.

Then again. Who really cares? Really, the sight of these Rock and Roll geezers slapping each other on the back is nauseating.

Distant Music, Part 2

Back in the 80's and 90's I played guitar in a bunch of blues and rockabilly groups. I guess the best band I played in was The Excellos with Steve Guyger on harmonica. We did plenty of gigs in the NY/Philadelphia area. At one point we went into the studio. Here are a few tracks I've recently unearthed. These were recorded live in the studio for the most part, with a couple of guitar overdubs. Personnel was Steve Guyger, harmonica/vocals, Joe Buzzanga, Guitar, Rich Yescalis, Bass, John Kennedy, Drums.
Real Gone Lover
Joe Smokes.mp3
West Helena Blues.mp3

Distant Music (JB Archive Series)

Here's one from the archives. An extremely low-fi recording of my little band from some years ago. When I say "low-fi" I'm not kidding. This was recorded using a little $30 cassette player with built-in microphone. It was just sitting on the floor running during this rehearsal.

Anyway, there's 3 pieces going here: myself on guitar and vocals, a bass player and a drummer. The tune--Young Fashioned Ways-- is one I learned from the rockabilly legend Sleepy LaBeef.

The Lonely Tenor Poetry of Lester Young

Lester Young aka Prez. Angel headed hipster of the Kansas City night. Porkpie hat, tilted horn, floating lines behind and ahead of the beat, but always on time. What I would have given to sit in just once with Count Basie's little sextet and have the chance to back him up on rhythm guitar. Or better, chop chords for him when he was leading his own sad little group.

Ezra Pound defined literature as language charged with meaning; maybe music is sound charged with meaning. And if so, Prez' horn carries a devastating, haunting meaning. Kind of like Joyce's invocation of the enveloping invisible presence of the departed in "The Dead", the sound of his hermetic horn is like "distant music" echoing a spectral world behind our "real world". It is a world where the tenor blows a line of blue notes over the void, impossibly forlorn and solitary.

Wittgenstein denied the possibility of a private language. But Prez had one. In his words, in his tenor, in his style. While the rest of the tenormen huffed and puffed to outdo Coleman Hawins, Prez saw another way. He bracketed and transcended the entire battle, redefining the terms of engagement. So dig Prez