Silver Spring: The New Brooklyn?

Odd how music intersects with life. I haven't listened to Branford Marsalis' award winning 1992 jazzy-blues effort I Heard You Twice the First Time for a loooong time, but it used to be a frequent listen, particularly during hot summer days (it always seemed like a disc designed for hot sultry summer nights). But then this past Monday a colleague from work and I were working hard to catch a cab since we were two of the thousands stranded in downtown D.C. due to the awful accident on Metro's red line which we ride daily.

We were at Union Station, but the taxi line there was a gazillion folks long, so we walked over to a hotel where cabs normally congregate only to find, well, no cabs. However, we were able to flag one down and jumped in quickly as we were, of course, competing for the driver's attention. From there, the conversation went something like this:

Us: We are going to the Silver Spring Metro stop.

Cabbie: Uuuhhh . . . .

Us: Silver Spring Metro stop?

Cabbie: Pulls over toward hotel where someone is shouting they need a ride to a recognizable location nearby.

Us: Silver Spring?

Hotel Bellman: These guys are going to Cleveland Park.

Cabbie: Hmmm, I know Cleveland Park.

Us: No, Silver Spring.

Pause . . .

Us: Do you know where that is?

Cabbie: No.

Us: Ah! We will direct.

And we did and he was gracious about it all--weaving in and out of DC streets to get to that foreign land known as Maryland (and yes, we made it worth his time). But the whole time, I kept thinking about the opening track of Branford's album. Now don't get me wrong--I am not suggesting there was anything remotely racial going on as is the case in this tune, it just made me think about it and made me break this album out.

It is a great set of blues driven jazz tunes with Branford's band at the time including Kenny Kirkland on piano, Jeff "tain" Waits on drums and Robert Hurst on bass. The guests on the album are a who's who of blues: B.B. King, Russel Malone, John Lee Hooker, Brother Wynton, Linda Hopkins and others. Neats and I also had the pleasure of seeing a version of this cast of players during our first stint here in DC.

The album runs the gamut from Branford's boppy jazz orientation to the KC/Chicago blues sounds of B.B. and John Lee to New Orleans jazz scene and generally explores all the connections between jazz and blues even looking back at working songs brought over from the fields of Africa. So here are a few samples for those of you who dig that wonderful intersection of jazz and blues (although it is hard to pick enough samples to represent the whole diversity that is this disc).

So why not just pick it up for yourself over at Branford's page.

Brother Trying to Catch a Cab (On the East Side)

Rib Tip Johnson

Mabel

Harps and Angels

Randy Newman might love LA, but his verbal delivery always puts me in smack dab in the middle of New Orleans, which somehow seems appropriate today. That sense is magnified by many of the tunes having a NOLA jazz feel to the arrangements, although some sound more like something from a musical. But if you like Newman's style of telling you a story more than singing you one, and the synthesis of stage and jazz is something you appreciate, you are going to really love this album.

Of course, on any Newman album, lyrics are key--I mean how many people can work "arrhythmic" into a song. That would be part of his heart attack/near death title track in which God and his angels provide the following advice:

When they lay you on the table
Better keep your business ("bid-ness") clean
'Fore they lay you on the table
Better keep you business clean
Don't want no back stabbing, ass grabbing
You know exactly what I mean
Alright girls -- we're outta here

Is it inappropriate of me to laugh at the idea of God calling his angels girls? Speaking of girls, how about these heartfelt lines for his daughter in "Potholes":

I even love my teenage daughter
There's no accounting for it
Apparently I don't care how I'm treated
My love is unconditional or something

Of course, all of these edgier observations that make the soft songs all the more sincere.

But ultimately, much of this album is political commenatry on the state of our country, particularly the direction we have been heading as of late. There is this from "A Piece of the Pie":

Jesus Christ it stinks in here high and low
The rich are getting richer
I should know
While we're going up
You're going down
And no one gives a shit but Jackson Browne

And then there is the most direct criticism of the album offered up in "A Few Words in Defense of Our Country"--here are a few choice verses.

I'd like to say a few words
In defense of our country
Whose people aren't bad
Nor are they mean
How the leaders we have
While they're the worst that we've had
Are hardly the worst
This poor world has seen

Take the Ceasars for example
Within the first few of them
They were sleeping with their sister,
Stashing little boys in swimming pools
And burning down the city
And one of 'em, on of 'em
Appointed his own horse to be Consul of the Empire
That's like vice president or something
Wait a minute, that not a very good example is it?

[snip]

A President once said,
"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself"
Now we're supposed to be afraid
It's patriotic and color-coded
And what are we supposed to be afraid of?
Why being afraid
That's what terror means, doesn't it?
That's what it used to mean

You know it kind of pisses me off
That this Supreme Court is going to outlive me
A couple of young Italian fellas and a brother on the Court now, too
But I defy you, anywhere in the world,
to find me two Italians as tight-assed as the two Italians we got
And as for the brother, well
Pluto's not a planet anymore either.

The end of an Empire is messy at best
And this Empire is ending
Like all the rest
Like the Spanish Armada adrift on the sea
We're adrift in the land of the brave and the home of the free

Somehow, Newman's concerns about this country's leadership seem appropriate given the news from both ends of the Mississippi today. Let us sincerely hope the the focus today and this week is on the natural event as opposed to the political one.

Any Given Thursday: First Impressions

So today after dropping of Neats & Boys at the airport so they could get a head start on vacation (much lamenting about to occur over at my other place*), I consoled myself predictably at the music store. I found much of what I was looking for with the exception of Jayhawks--at least those recommended by you dear readers; however, the music that has been giving the Thiels a workout today has been something I wasn't planning on picking up: John Mayer's 2003 live album, Any Given Thursday.

Now I know you all are going to get tired of hearing me mention that I am catching up on much music (why the hell did he think he could start a music blog anyway?), but Mayer is another artist who I have been meaning to explore, but haven't. So this is my first. Why this one? Not sure--it seemed to pick me more than I picked it--great title, liked the idea of hearing how he performed and just total randomness.

First impression: this is going to get a lot of listen to, particularly since I am going to be in a car a lot soon, driving long distances and this just says great road album to me--not to mention The Engineer is always down with some guitar tunes as he chills out in the back of the van while The Artist and The Boss yap it up mid-van.

I, of course, immediately went and checked out what others had to say and read about mixed reviews as critics seemed caught between Mayer's rising pop star image and his clearly growing guitar prowess. Whatever. The music and performance are both solid and fun--both/and rather than either/or. This is a live album that makes you wish you were there even with the screaming adoration.

But I am new here and know you won't steer me wrong. So let's hear what you all think. Thoughts on this disc vs. other offerings, other discs to pursue, or am I just too easily entertained and uncritical?

*The other place is invite only, so friends and family who want to keep up with the Brothers K just need to let me know.

Hot Summer Nights

Billie Holiday is one of those artists I can listen to in just about any mood, place or setting and the music seems right although a slow, hot summer night seems perfect for listening to Lady Day. That is even more so the case with with Etta James' 1994 Mystery Lady: Songs of Billie Holiday which is perfect hot summer night kind of music. Hat tip goes to James' biographer David Ritz who according to liner notes gets credit for the album idea, but it is Cedar Walton's slow, bluesy arrangements and James' deep, sultry voice that makes this a must have.

Sure there is all kinds of history here about James' and her mother (who loved Holiday) but the real bottom line here is sex. This disc is dripping with it. Okay, there is plenty of sadness, remorse and tragedy as well--she is a blues singer after all--but it is truly one seductive album. James takes songs like "Lover Man" and sings those lyrics in a way that, well, makes uptight, Protestant boys feel like they have sinned just listening to her . . . . but it is so worth it.