Felt the urge to write about some of my favorite things that have filled my ears of late. My album listening has been focused on spinning each of my records in alphabetical order which, as of this writing has gotten to the B’s with a nice long stint in The Beatles. That’s a project which will run for a while and you can follow it and all of my record spins as they happen over on my tumblr: http://rowj.tumblr.com. Beyond that, I’ve been picking up a lot of great sounds on these here interwebs and this post in intended to show you a few of these. Continue reading
Keeping the clock wound back to twenty years ago, I could be found, in the early morning hours of March 19, 1995, collecting my friend Joel and my girlfriend from their homes and aiming my ’83 Datsun Sentra toward Philadelphia. Several of our friends had gone up two days earlier for the Grateful Dead shows but, due to wanting to keep my job (as mentioned in a previous post), I had stayed behind to work. But, not on Sunday. We aimed to arrive early and scour the lots for tickets to that weekend’s third (and ultimately final) show at the Spectrum. It would be only the second time I’d gone to a Grateful Dead show without a ticket in-hand. It would also be the last.
It was still dark when we left Northern Virginia. I don’t like to be late for anything. The air was chilly with few clouds as we crossed the Susquehanna River Bridge in Maryland at sunrise. It didn’t warm up too much. We arrived in Philly for breakfast, laid back in a nearby park, and waited for the masses to arrive so that we could begin the process of asking each and every one of them for their extra tickets. This is a process that I never enjoyed and always sought to avoid. Walking through rows of parking lots with a handmade sign, shouting my hope to purchase or barter an exchange for an extra ticket. We met up with our friends. Only one of the three had gotten into a show so far. None of them had tickets for this Sunday show. Things were looking grim but I kept looking. Continue reading
Twenty years ago, I was a twenty-year-old Deadhead with no worries beyond growing my small record collection and obtaining tickets for the next Grateful Dead shows. I’d been seeing them for nearly four years, listening for maybe eight, and I’d just come home from the Mardi Gras run in Oakland, California. My t-shirts were strictly music-related, my trousers corduroy, and my hair was a disaster. I had a girlfriend and a 1983 Datsun Sentra. Both were good enough. My life plans involved seeing any and every amazing concert possible; primarily, but not exclusively, Grateful Dead and Phish; and writing about them for any audience that might have eyes for such things. What could go wrong?
I only managed one show on the Grateful Dead’s East Coast Spring Tour that year. Money was tight after my California trip and I was disinclined to quit my record store job, so work took a degree of precedence. After all, Summer Tour mail-order would come around soon enough. But, I had the fortune to be inside the Philly Spectrum when they played the first live “Unbroken Chain”. That’s the way things went. You never knew which show would be the show. You went when you could and enjoyed what you found.
Dance. Wash1. Repeat.
June rolled around and we caught some Phish shows, followed by the annual Dead shows at RFK Stadium and a one-nighter in Pittsburgh. We mail-ordered for Grateful Dead Fall Tour. My 21st birthday coincided with the scheduled Boston run and GDTS set us up with decent seats. Phish mail order soon followed for what was to become a legendary tour. Life was good. Even when it wasn’t. Who could complain about such riches? Continue reading
In this year-closing time frame of lists, reviews, recaps, and rehashes, I’ve gone back and forth on the notion of providing a favorite albums post for a variety of reasons. These range from vanity to the desire to operate in any mode that counters my hungry ego. I have done year-end lists before, and upon reading them, realized that I’m not qualified to tell anyone what’s the “best” anything. Foremost among the arguments against is the simple fact of scope. I’m not a professional music critic. By that, I intend not to imply that the pros have greater authority due to their receipt of compensation, but rather that they have the time and inclination to listen to a far broader selection of releases in the course of a year.
That said, I do listen to a lot of new music. I certainly miss out on plenty of it, but the years don’t pass me by the way they did in the 90’s. Then, I skimmed past the pop or rock hits of the day (remember when rock music WAS pop?) on my way to the classic rock station in between Grateful Dead or Phish tapes. Now, I buy albums in wife-aggravating quantities. It’s still hard to keep up but the rewards are rich.
If you peruse my previous lists, you’ll find one artist prominantly mentioned time and time again: Woods. Their 2014 offering, “With Light And With Love”, constantly finds its way to my turntable. Jeremy Earl and Jarvis Taveniere continue to craft brilliant songs with melodies that seem to already inhabit my heart before the first needle drop. They tidily blend broiling tension into blissful Harrison-esque slide riffs while Earl’s upper register vocals deliver lyrics that kick the heart up into the brain. At this point, they’re on a run of albums few artists have matched since the 70s.
But they’re not alone in commanding my pre-ordering loyalties. White Fence moved to the big time (in indie label terms) with the release of “For The Recently Found Innocent” on Drag City Records. It’s likely no coincidence that Tim Presley’s sometimes collaborator (and recordist for this record), Ty Segall has put out a number of great albums via Drag City. Here, we get more of what Presley does best: bent melodies, sharp lyrics, fuzz boxes, and a disconcerting sense of time. This time, he’s moved on from his bedroom four-track to Segall’s home-studio eight track but little is lost in the upgrade. If you’ve ever taken my recommendation on White Fence before, you know what to do now. If you haven’t, this is the right time to jump in.
Speaking of Ty Segall, his album for Drag City this year, “Manipulator” is a garage rawk classic. Since its release, I’ve constantly gone back when I want to turn up the room and throw down with some high energy awesome.
But it’s not always time to rock out. Continue reading
It Was Twenty Years Ago Today…
I backed into my first Phish show well after becoming a fan. I’m fairly certain that I was turned on to the group in High School though it was my first year of college where I began to absorb much of their music. Junta played constantly in our dorms and, as I grew my Grateful Dead tape collection, I began adding a few Phish tapes. But that was the early 90’s and I was still very much focused on seeing as much Grateful Dead as possible. This attitude and my slim wallet kept me away from Phish shows until 1994.
In March of ’94, I had purchased a ticket to my first Phish show the next month at the local college (George Mason University) basketball arena, the Patriot Center. But I soon learned that The Band (at least those who remained in the line-up) would be playing Washington D.C.’s Lincoln Theater that same week. Concerned about having another shot at seeing Levon and co., I sold my Phish ticket to a buddy and bought a ticket to see The Band. No regrets.
Flash forward to Autumn. Freshly enrolled in the local community college, making new friends, many of who were Grateful Dead and Phish fans, and Phish was slated to return to the Patriot Center. One of my new friends, Chris, offered me one of his extra tickets and plans were set. I was finally going to see this group.
George Mason is a sprawling suburban university that matches the character of Northern Virginia quite well. Attractive, yet deliberate, green spaces are surrounded by too much pavement and cars are everywhere. We arrived early and, counter to my experiences at Dead shows, there wasn’t much of a scene. A few people were making grilled cheese for themselves, and maybe one guy was selling shirts but, for the most part, folks kept to themselves. I can only assume that the campus housing was a different scene altogether. We picked out a spot with some grass and relaxed in the lovely Autumn afternoon before heading in to the show.
Patriot Center is a round-ish basketball venue. It has no upper deck but reserved seating all the way around and, for this show, on the floor. As we entered, a fan handed me a purple flyer that read, “Phish Is A Really Cool Band.” Indeed.Our seats were on Page’s side, ahead of the board, a few rows above the floor. pretty much perfect. Unless you compare to those of my friend Modi whom we saw bouncing to the PA music all the way up to the front of the floor.
We were pumped.
We were ready.
The lights went down. Continue reading