It’s Good to Hear Live Music

I was struck by a story that bassist Gerald Veasley told in the April Jazz Times about Joe Zawinul (of Weather Report):

We always teased Joe about his constant use of the phrase ‘it’s good to be...’ That was his way of being at peace with whatever the situation was. We’d be walking down the street in the pouring rain and he’d say, ‘You know, Gerald, it’s good to walk in the rain.’ Or you’d be complaining about riding all night from Venice to Copenhagen and he’d say, ‘It’s good to be tired.’ He had this strong-willed approach to life. Bring it on and he could not just deal with it, but embrace it.

I’ve got a long way to go before I can accept things that I can’t change with such equanimity. I’m better about coping with disappointment and frustration than I used to be, but can’t say I embrace them. I still prefer sunny days to rainy ones, but this glimpse into the mindset of an “it’s good to be alive” person is inspiring.

I almost posted this yesterday, but I’m glad I didn’t, because amazingly I saw Gerald Veasley last night at the Victor Wooten concert at the Keswick. Right near the end, he was spotted and brought up on stage to sit in with the band. That would have been the icing on the cake, but there was even more icing to come. Bernie Worrell was also in the audience, and he came up to do the Parliament classic “Give Up the Funk.” Derico Watson killed on drums, by the way. So much icing I was in sugar shock.

10:14 PM | Permalink | Add Comment

Piano Benefit Concert Friday

The Church of the Holy Trinity (on Rittenhouse Square) is holding a benefit concert this Friday to raise money for a new piano. “Join us for an eclectic mix of classical, jazz, show tunes, gospel and opera performed by many of Philadelphia’s talented local musicians.” Admission is $20. After the legions of broken-down pianos I’ve endured in my life, I’m all about helping folks get a better instrument, and it sounds like fun, too. I am planning to attend.

8:38 AM | Permalink | Add Comment

Susan Werner at Puck

Susan Werner is one of my all-time favorite singer-songwriters, so I’m banging the drum for her new CD, The Gospel Truth, due for release March 6.

Although she lives in Chicago now, the album was recorded here in the suburbs of Philadelphia at MorningStar Studios. Her first album (seven albums ago) was recorded there as well; she lived in Philadelphia in those days. I'm sure she would say she chose MorningStar because they have a lot of experience recording gospel choirs, but seriously? I think she misses Wawa.

The last time I saw her was November 30 at Puck in Doylestown. Her show was great and included a number of the new songs. She played most tunes alone as she usually does, but drummer Grant MacAvoy, who produced her first album, sat in on a few, supporting her with his typical sensitive artistry and restraint. Some sandwiches and fine beer helped us enjoy the show, including Franziskaner, Chimay, and Corsendock.

There are samples of four of the new songs on her web site, and she will be appearing at the World Cafe March 24. Susan writes, “I just wrapped up the best record of my career.” Based on what I heard, I can’t dispute that. Not at all.

8:24 PM | Permalink

T-R-O-U-B-L-E at the Keswick

Saw Travis Tritt recently at the Keswick Theater. I don’t listen to country music often (although WXTU is one of my terrestrial-radio presets), but I always enjoyed Travis Tritt, at least the handful of songs I know—especially “T-R-O-U-B-L-E,” which was actually written by Jerry Chesnut and recorded by Elvis. “T-R-O-U-B-L-E” came up about an hour and a half into the show, and we were wondering what tune of his could possible follow that.

Nothing could apparently, because for the rest of the night they cranked out an extended set of classic covers (even “Sweet Home Alabama”) like some supercharged bar band. The show finally ended after over two and a half hours. By the way, there were a whole lot of cameras at this show and no announcement prohibiting “flash photography.” In fact, Travis even encouraged photo ops by hopping up and posing on some pedestals at the edge of the stage. Great show.

More recently, we saw Bruce Hornsby’s solo acoustic show at the Keswick. I was impressed at the breadth of his musical knowledge. After one number, I thought of calling him the Bill Evans of rock and roll, but that doesn’t do him justice. One huge surprise was that everyone was given the box set “Intersections,” which included four CDs and a DVD. I was unable to learn how he could be so generous; the web site only says that “Bruce has arranged for each ticket buyer in the series of special solo dates to receive a copy.” That’s some arranging. Wow, and thanks.

10:29 PM | Permalink

At the Ballet

We had an unusually festive weekend. Anne and her gang from work spent the afternoon at the Philadelphia Flower Show and were treated to dinner at Singapore Vegetarian by their boss. I planned to meet up with them after that for drinks at Monk’s Cafe. Since I hadn’t eaten, I was really looking forward to grabbing a bite at Monk’s, but it was simply too crowded. Off we trooped to Bob and Barbara’s a few blocks away. B&B’s was the opposite of Monk’s—it was practically empty—and they had virtually no food, although somehow Anne snagged me a bag of Combos at the bar. When one of us couldn’t prove he was of legal drinking age, they kicked us out. The nerve.

Our final stop was The Westbury, which was the most welcoming of the three places, not that we really belonged there. Let’s just say that the four women in our group seriously tipped the gender balance in the clientele. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I was finally able to order a sandwich, and we all enjoyed a round of drinks. Nice place.

On Saturday, we had tickets for Pennsylvania Ballet’s production of “Firebird” (performances through March 11). We stopped first for dinner at Fergie’s (where a few of the blogger meetups had been held). There was the usual Irish music jam session in progress and a full house with no tables available, but in minutes two seats at the bar became available. Sadly, they were out of Nodding Head Grog so we had Smithwick’s instead. Dinner was delicious as usual.

Firebird is, I believe, only the third ballet I’ve ever attended. Although Stravinsky’s score is one of my favorite pieces, I never knew anything about the ballet or the story. It’s a fanciful tale about an enchanted forest with, of course, a firebird, and a very happy ending. The production was a little short on spaceships and explosions, although there were some nice special effects. Before “Firebird,” the company presented “Franklin Court,” which was inspired by some of Benjamin Franklin’s inventions. The music was by Bach, and one of the pieces featured Franklin’s glass armonica. You know the ethereal sound you get when you run a wet finger around the rim of a wine glass? Well, that’s what the armonica sounds like.

Even though I have almost no experience watching ballet, I enjoyed the evening, and there were more than a few moments when I felt like I knew what was going on. I never get that feeling watching sports.

9:26 PM | Permalink | Add Comment

Five Stages, No Waiting

At the box office of the Keswick Theater tonight for John Scofield. Let’s listen in as Tony goes through the five stages of grief...

• Shock Cancelled?! CANCELLED?! No way! Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!
• Denial This can’t be happening. The concert was cancelled ten days ago? That can’t be. I bought these tickets only seven days ago.
• Anger That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. How could you even sell tickets for a show that was cancelled?! Oh, great. Now what am I going to do with my evening? Blog?
• Bargaining OK, OK. I’m cool. Now, can I get a full refund, or a credit or something? Aw, c’mon. Pweeeze?
• Depression ::sulk::
• Testing <tap> <tap> <tap> Is this thing on?
• Acceptance I’m sure John didn’t mean it personally. He’ll come back. Shane, come back, come back!! ::sniff::

Yeah, I know there’s seven stages. My grief is too big for only five stages, man.

9:45 PM | Permalink

Short Night Out

Last night we went to a nearby Brew Ha Ha! (a local chain of coffeehouses) to see two of Anne's co-workers who are in a band called OverUnderground.

Whoa! We could hardly get in the door, it was so crowded. The members of the band are barely out of high school and most of their fans are the same age. Anne asked, "Do you feel..." I finished her sentence: "Old?" At least I wasn't the only fifty-something there, although I think the few others were beaming, indulgent parents.

As they were preparing to start, keyboardist Will made an announcement. He explained that the fire code prohibited occupancy by more than 50 people, so he asked for volunteers to leave. We couldn't count ourselves as hardcore fans, so we grabbed our lattes and eased out during the first tune, right after I had taken a few pictures of Will, Alex (on guitar) and the drummer. They sounded pretty good.

3:11 PM | Permalink

“More Notes, Less Feeling”

Thus spake John “Flans” Flansburgh at one point during the They Might Be Giants show at Penn's Landing this past weekend. Funny to me, because the opposite advice is what makes for musical success (Kenny G being the exception that proves the rule). There was no shortage of feeling during this show. I even caught John Linnell, the less demonstrative of the two Johns, jumping in place at one point. Heck, I even clapped my hands once or twice; I was “getting into it.” What I like best, though, is not their rock-and-roll energy or the exquisitely-crafted song structures or the engaging, poppy melodies, it's those funny lyrics. Flans' patter was pretty entertaining as well. In introducing one song, he told the audience, “In this song, 'The Man' is a code word for... The Man.”

I was hoping that because of the beautiful weather and WXPN's All About the Music festival across the river in Camden, attendance might be light. I was wrong. Well, the Great Plaza wasn't packed, but it was full to capacity. We arrived around 6:00 right after Adrian Belew, so all the seats were long gone. We wanted to see, though, and were able to find a view of the stage by wedging in right next to the sound booth. In that position I should have been hearing the same mix as the engineers, but the balance was a little light on vocals. That was a shame, because I don't know all their songs by heart, and as I mentioned, I love their lyrics.

Unlike the last time we saw them, this was an adult show, although they did perform one number from Here Come the ABCs, “Alphabet of Nations.”

Afterward we met up briefly with Scott. He had two cameras with him and blogged the show as it happened. I had no camera. Me. Mr. Camera Geek Photographer Guy. I had read on the Penn's Landing web site that among the banned items were professional cameras and backpacks, so I left all my gear at home. Of course, there were backpacks, professional cameras, and other forbidden items in abundance.

After bidding adieu to Scott and his friends, we tried to score a foam finger. Flans said there were zillions (at one point in the show, he doubled the legal foam-finger allotment from one finger “per face” to one finger “per hand”), but we couldn't find any. We did get a pre-autographed copy of The Spine, their latest release, however. While the Johns were probably on their way back to Brooklyn already, we did observe longtime bass player Danny Weinkauf and relative-newcomer Marty Beller at the edge of the stage signing foam hands for the rabid fans. This made the lack of fingers a doubly bitter disappointment.

Dinner was taken nearby at the Continental, a place I knew only by reputation. Highly recommended, although it was so crowded and noisy we could hardly talk. Or maybe it was all that loud music still ringing in my ears.

9:45 AM | Permalink

Birdhouse in Your Soul

On the way to work today, I saw one of those posters for PECO in which PECO employees are pictured uttering various bromides. This one was “I believe a little light can chase away the biggest monsters.” Pictured was a nightlight straight out of “Birdhouse in Your Soul.” Or so I thought because that's what I was listening to at the time. Spooky. Except I think it was a duck instead of a canary. Still.

I was priming for the free They Might Be Giants show at Penn's Landing tomorrow. Also appearing will be Adrian Belew and Time for Three. My wife and sister-in-law can't make it, so I will be sallying forth solo, although I am hoping to meet up with Scott and friends. Looks like we will have gorgeous weather.

9:26 AM | Permalink

Missed Another Jazz Festival

Thank goodness we forgot to go to the jazz festival at Cliveden today. I would have hated to have been caught in all that rain! What a shame.

It's been a bad year for jazz festival attendance. We also missed the Main Line Jazz & Food Festival last month, and we're going to miss the Jenkintown Jazz Festival in September (vacation plans). That's not to mention the bigger festivals we didn't even plan to attend: the Clifford Brown in Wilmington, the Mellon in Philadelphia, and the Cape May in, um, Cape May. That's a lot of unheard jazz, and a lot of uneaten food. I enjoy the food almost as much as the music. We'll make it up next year somehow.

10:36 PM | Permalink

Stranger on a Train

Last week I went to hear Phil Roy in concert at Pastorius Park in Chestnut Hill. Phil who, you ask? Well, you probably know who he is, but I was ashamed to admit I had never heard of Phil until a few months ago.

I was riding SEPTA's R5 train (rock stars always take the R5 when their limo's in the shop), and there was this guy sitting directly across from me taking care of some business on his cell phone. Normally I can tune out this sort of distraction, but some key words piqued my interest, such as “Morningstar” (a recording studio in Springhouse) and “tour dates” (he was asking someone to update his web site).

Of course I flushed with shame for eavesdropping, but he was talking right in my ear! I feigned a sneeze so I wouldn't hear the password to his web site. Phil, dude, too much information! Later I asked a friend who actually knows something about music who this guy was. While not a household name as a performer, he has had his songs covered by a slew of big-name performers and included in movie soundtracks.

It was a beautiful summer night for a concert, and the audience was quiet and attentive during the sensitive numbers when Phil practically whispered the words accompanied only by his guitar—except for the dogs barking, that is. Phil's Golden Retriever Travis was part of the act, and I enjoyed his contribution as good-will ambassador almost as much as the music. While Travis knew not to bark during the music, the other dogs in the park weren't so respectful.

Phil did a lot of new tunes as well as his hits, such as “Melt” and “Undeniably Human.” He was accompanied by a band called Dr. Ketchup that included Hooters’ guitarist John Lilley. I guess John can pick and choose his projects since that chain of restaurants was so successful...

3:08 PM | Permalink

TMBG Free Show

They Might Be Giants will be appearing at Penn's Landing for free on July 23. We are planning to attend. Be there or be an equilateral rectangle.

6:21 PM | Permalink

John Scofield Trio

Last Friday night we headed downtown to see John Scofield (my favorite guitarist) at the Zellerbach Theater. The show didn't start until 8:00, so we had time to work dinner into our plans. Anne thought we should try Cavanaugh's, which sounded appealing, and it was. It's a casual student hangout on Penn's campus about two blocks from the theater, and even at that early hour on a Friday evening was crowded and noisy.

They boast a large selection of beers, although there's no actual list that I could find. I fancied a Negra Modelo with my sausage sandwich, but alas that's one they didn't have. I had a Flying Fish (draft) instead. The food was excellent. I wish I had known about this place when I was a student.

In the lobby of the Zellerbach, there was a small jazz group playing. The players in this group were drawn from the Penn Jazz Ensemble. After the number, a snappily-dressed student invited us to see the band play immediately following the concert. Admission was free with ticket stub. Not bad.

Although this post is entitled “John Scofield Trio,” it's really about John Scofield's drummer, Bill Stewart. I first became aware of Bill's work from the Scofield album “Hand Jive.” That's still one of my favorite CDs ever, in large part because of Stewart's contribution. Scofield liked him, too; they worked together for five years. Bill reappeared on the last Scofield album, EnRoute, recorded live at the Blue Note in New York. He sounded better than ever.

Although this show was billed as the John Scofield Trio, I didn't make the connection that the trio would include Bill, although typically the tour band is similar if not identical to the one on the most-recent release. (Just as typically, however, the tour band does not include the same members for a number of reasons.) Anyway, I was thrilled at the unexpected treat of hearing Bill live. It's a challenge to describe his style in words, but I can say that he reminds me most of the young Tony Williams with whom he shares a fresh, creative approach to accompanying and soloing; always surprising, yet never jarring. I should also mention how much I enjoyed veteran bassist Steve Swallow's exquisitely lyrical solos.

You can check out a video of Bill soloing with the John Scofield band at Drummer World.

10:35 PM | Permalink

Mosaic at Sellersville Theater

In December, 2005, I went to see a rock band made up of 5 Upper Bucks County high school students at the Sellersville Theater. I knew the drummer, who is the son of a friend of mine. They rented the theater and sold tickets for the benenfit of tsunami victims. These kids played amazingly well, playing their own compositions as well as covering some Dave Matthews tunes. Last Monday, the band, called Mosaic, took over the Sellersville Theater for another benefit concert. They packed the house again and raised $1,200 dollars. Whoa. There were two opening acts, Cody and Adam (on guitars), and Chris and Jim (on guitar and harmonica). I took some pictures.

We had a very enjoyable dinner nearby at The Perk beforehand.

8:24 AM | Permalink

Singer Songwriter Summit

About ten years ago, the late Bill Ivey, then director of the Country Music Foundation, suggested that Lyle Lovett, John Hiatt, Guy Clark, and Joe Ely team up for a concert. The result was so successful and enjoyable for the participants that they've been getting together almost every year since. We went to hear them at McCarter Theater in Princeton recently.

I didn't know quite what to expect. I liked Lyle Lovett the first time I saw him (on the Tonight Show of all places, performing “Here I Am” aka “The Cheeseburger Song”), and I even saw him live once years ago with his Large Band. I was vaguely aware of John Hiatt, but had never heard of Guy Clark or Joe Ely. Even though I didn't know most of these guys, I recognized them as peers of Lyle Lovett, so I was sure they would be good.

This concert was more about the songs than the singers. There was no band, just four guys with acoustic guitars, and hence no place for a lame song to hide. There weren't any lame songs, that's for sure! The loose format of the evening had all four songwriters on stage the whole time; they basically took turns singing solo, although from time to time another would join in. It was evident that they enjoying listening to each other as much as performing.

Lyle was great, of course, but the big “discovery” for me was John Hiatt. Right from the first tune, the propulsive “Tennessee Plates” I was taken in by his musicianship and energy. Guy Clark was also a favorite with his disarmingly casual, folksy delivery. One of his many memorable tunes from the evening was the amusing ditty “Homegrown Tomatoes.” From the refrain: “Only two things money can't buy: and that's true love and homegrown tomatoes.” The four performed “This Land Is My Land” together as an encore. What an enjoyable evening.

8:14 AM | Permalink

C Is For Conifers

C is for what?! Well, it all started when Anne received an email from John Flansburgh, one of the two Johns of They Might Be Giants. The band was working on a set of songs for a childrens’ album about the alphabet called “Here Come the ABCs.” They wrote a song about the letter C called “C Is for Conifers.” In the interest of scientific accuracy, John had found Anne’s name on the web as a conifer authority, because she is the editor of the Conifer Quarterly, the journal of the American Conifer Society. Anne fact-checked the lyrics and made some helpful suggestions, and shortly thereafter she received a nice assortment of TMBG swag in gratitude.

As excited as we both were to have had a brush with a real rock star, neither of us were what you would call fans of the band. Anne’s sister and brother-in-law, however, were both serious fans, and they were thrilled when Anne sent them the T-shirts, hats, pencils and whatnot. They got everything except the coffee mug.

“Here Come the ABCs” was released recently, and of course we ordered a copy. Then we learned that TMBG were doing a free show at the Borders book store in Rosemont not far from where I work. Anne picked me up after work yesterday, and after dinner at Gullifty’s, we got to Border’s around 6:30, about a half hour before show time. There were already people waiting at 5:30, and by 6:30 the place was filling up fast.

There was a small area in front of the bandstand where the early birds were sitting on the floor, but the rest of us stood all around the bandstand. John Flansburgh switched between a Strat and a Precision; John Linnel stayed on accordion the whole time. They got a lot of music out of very few instruments. There was also a drummer with a tiny drum set and some assorted percussion. He was excellent.

They played for a half hour or so. About half the songs were from the new CD, and the rest were greatest hits. They didn’t play “C Is for Conifers,” however. After the show, a loooooooong line formed for autographs. John remembered Anne, and they signed two DVDs for us (one for us and one for Anne’s sister). In return for the autographs, Anne gave them official Conifer Society baseball caps. Of course, I took a few pictures.

10:11 PM | Permalink

Susan Werner at The Point

I haven’t seen Susan Werner in concert since her appearance at the Media Theater in 2002. She was touring with a band at the time to support her then-current CD "New Non Fiction." Although many of her CDs included collaborations with other musicians, I had never seen her share the stage with anyone. I remember thinking that the band diluted the impact Susan usually has live, and in the large theater, I missed the intimate rapport she creates with her audiences. Even though the Media show wasn’t my favorite, Susan had a new CD out, and I was eager to see her again.

Last Friday, seven fellow Susan Werner fans and myself gathered together first for dinner at the Indian restaurant Khajuraho in Ardmore, and then descended on The Point in Bryn Mawr for Susan’s 10:00 PM show.

First, a little bit about The Point. It is a reincarnation of and homage to the Main Point, a legendary venue that hosted such artists as Bruce Springsteen many, many years ago. I never saw Bruce there, but I am old enough to have attended a number of concerts there. The new Point is only a few doors down from the old (I didn’t even recognize the original location). It has much the same feeling as the original Main Point: a kind of coffeehouse atmosphere (although now you can order drinks!) with tables, chairs, and even comfortable couches randomly arranged around the room. The room is just large enough to hold a fair-sized audience, yet small enough that no one is sitting too far away. It’s probably the perfect place to hear music. Come to think of it, it’s probably the perfect place to play music, too.

Susan Werner as sultry glamorpuss. Wish the photo were black and white, though.

Susan’s new CD is called “I Can’t Be New” and represents a departure from her previous releases. Rather than being a showcase for her newest songwriting efforts, “I Can’t Be New” is a collection of songs she has written over the years that share a style and sensibility influenced by the great composers of American popular song, such as Cole Porter, Jerome Kern, or the Gershwins. It’s her “standards” album, only they are her own standards. All along Susan has been writing sophisticated music in her own style; these songs are merely in a more familiar genre.

She was accompanied by two superb and sensitive musicians, Boston’s Billy Novick on woodwinds and Philly’s own Tyrone Brown on electric upright bass. As an encore, she did not one, but two covers from My Fair Lady: “I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face” and “Wouldn’t It Be Loverly.” She played "Loverly" as a slow blues, practically reinventing the song. It was one of those magical moments that make going to live concerts so rewarding. Susan has reinvented other people’s songs before; it happens at almost every show, in fact. (For a recorded example, check out "Everybody’s Talkin’" on "New Non Fiction.") Later, it occurred to me that she should issue a CD of her imaginative covers called, hmm, let’s see, “I CAN Be New.”

Susan appeared on Mountain Stage recently; I missed it, and could find no trace of an archive of the performance. She was interviewed on NPR and that interview is available along with several songs. Enjoy.

8:00 AM | Permalink