Ask any composer about the times when ideas dry up and the music just isn't flowing and I'll bet their stories are all the same.

Change to topic to when the music starts flowing like a facet, and the descriptive terms will be the same.

No one can answer why suddenly the heavens open and music falls like rain, but one thing is certain: the composer (or musicians) must be ready to receive this pouring out through experience, study, innate talent or a combination of all these. The other certainty: the more you look for or try to force it, the less likely it will come.

Other considerations: the intellect must be abandoned, the ego has to be surrendered and the mind must be open to the "now."

Eno talk about this very thing in the below video. I think the lyrics speak volumes about this phenomenon:

I tied myself with wire
To let the horses run free
Playing with the fire
Until the fire played with me

Sound quality versus convenience. That seems to be the paradigm in the world of downloadable music.

For myself, MP3s are so convenient. Bowie remaster? Why, yes. Click and soon my library on my Mac has Ziggy Stardust goodness.

But for every gain, there is loss. MP3s sound a little thin to my ears. Apple, as much as I like their products, gets very proprietary about all its media. Want to load a non-Apple TV show into your iPod? Well, good luck. Funny how something which would seem so easy is so tricky.

The there's the lingo: lossless, lossy, AAC, FLAC, and the ubiquitous MP3.

NPR has a great info on what "Mastering for iTunes Really Means."

Guitarists are a funny lot.

We display obsessive behavior at every turn. First, comes the guitar. Every detail about a guitar can spark an endless discussion: the neck, the body, the pickups, the top, et al ad infinitum.

Then there are the accessories: the amp, the picks, the strings, the cables-all subjects worthy of endless debate, discussion and comparison.

Then the effects processors which can be racks or in their simpler form, floor pedals, AKA "stomp boxes." These can range from a very simple tuner to a pedal that enable you to play things you couldn't play or even imagine.

While you and I might get some plausible, useful sounds out of floor pedals, Adrian has a natural affinity to find out not only what a pedal can do, but can coax sounds that seem to originate from another world.

Read the blog entry.

"I Like the idea of a piece of music that continues making itself whether I'm there or not."

"Being an artist is a philosophical position."

~Brian Eno

No one interview or documentary can give you the richest portrait of a complex artist like Brian Eno. You have to view many sources. Here's a German doc on the master.

Good insight on his working process.

California-laid-back-surf vibe music is not something I easily embrace. To be perfectly honest, I detest Jack Johnson's music (and his ilk)whom I affirm is this generation's James Taylor-an artist who has been unfairly lauded and one I find tedious.

Why then would Cali-surf-vibe Tristan Prettyman's music draw my attention?

When I saw Tristan Prettyman's video on YouTube, I have to say that it was her usual voice that caught my attention. Was she British or was she using some dialect that was unknown to me? Plus, these were not songs about banana pancakes and catching waves, but ones that seemed to be written from unmitigated honesty. Honesty? In the era of the CMAs?

Turns out, Tristan Prettyman is an artist (and a Cali surfer) who does not analyze her music and "doesn't know where her voice or the songs comes from." She is a natural: music just comes knocking on her creative door and she invites it in.

She did the club tour circuit for years, promoting her first two albums, and life as an artist seemed good. But then, something started happening: she lost her sense of purpose or "her anchor" and started feeling burned out. Vocal polyps and a painful breakup followed. The misery she found herself immersed in lead to writing a new album, Cedar and Gold, but she found songs were coming out without the usual emotional filters.

I interviewed the artist on April 2, 2013.

You'll find these songs running around in your mind the first time you hear them, so purchase the album here. 

"Where you come from is gone, where you thought you were going to never was there, and where you are is no good unless you can get away from it."

~Flannery O'Connor

One of the many things I admire about drummer Bill Bruford is his sense of humor. It is as dry as dry gets without turning to dust. Here's an example from his website:

"Interviewer" (Bruford himself)

Q: "I have never met another musician who retired. Nobody does that through choice, usually a musician dies at the hotel, on stage, or on the road. Has this almost unprecedented and original act made your contemporaries uncomfortable in that you have dared to do something that others wouldn't? 

Bruford: I’m not sure anyone is uncomfortable about anything, least of all me. Retiring, of course, implies that you can afford to do so, and I guess that can attract suspicion. I think too many of us are obliged to continue for financial reasons only, which is a shame.

The stadia of the world are clogged with geriatric rockers, who tend to prevent the emergence of young blood. The older guys are effectively institutionalized and now know no other life. If they don’t get a proper hotel and a wake-up call they don’t know what to do. I loved Max Roach’s playing.

Someone sent me a CD of his latest music shortly before he died, and it was tragic. I didn’t want to remember him like that. You could see daylight between him and the bass player. I never could see the appeal of dying in a hotel room, is all."  

Four master musicians playing devilishly complicated music while having a ball doing it.

Groups just come this good anymore.

Disclaimer: it's not for me to determine whether Mr. Fripp's allegations against EG and BMI are true or not true. I'm only trying to point out one of many pitfalls of being in the music industry as I see it from the many articles I've read and the artists I've interviewed.

From my own perspective, I have known club owners who were clearly not paying us (a band) what would have been a fair sum considering the crowd (consumers of alcohol) we brought in: i.e. the club was making $9,000 a weekend night and were were getting $350.

Or when we would play only for the money taken at the door and realize that perhaps the doorman was pocketing some of it.

My own ongoing source of disappointment is my only published work. The man who operates this Canadian publishing company has been openly hostile to any kind of communication regarding royalties and in one email accused me of thinking about sending legions of lawyers his direction. I have never considered this action, although no checks nor any explanation has been forthcoming for years. Maybe it's a strategy on his part to his own benefit or perhaps he is just a nasty man. I don't know.

The other bummer: transferring from Canadian to American dollars-there is a fee both ways because the company does not have a bank in the US.

But this is all small change compared to guitarist Robert Fripp's "endless grief."

From the RF diary:

"In one of the seemingly endless series of industry disputes, often revolving around royalties and their non- and under-payment, on the occasion about-to-be-reported the disputation was with BMG Publishing. BMG Publishing bought the EG Music publishing catalogue in 1991 (although they were asked by Mr. Fenwick to refer to this as a licensing deal, to maintain the fiction that EG were continuing as an industry player).

Some ten years later, c. 2001, it became apparent to us that BMG had underpaid publishing revenue by c. £100,000. David Singleton and myself went to BMG UK HQ on Putney Bridge for a meeting, and I suggested that to expedite a settlement, we agree the royalties owed were £100,00. Faces fell around the room. The figure BMG had in mind was £50,000. Detailed auditing later, the owed sum was shown to be £110,000 (173,612.64 USD apx.).

Mr. Power Possessor @ BMG UK Publishing called DGM HQ for David Singleton, who had just gone home, and spoke to myself. We had a short conversation before Mr. PP called David at home and asked: How much would Robert settle for? Ie what discount can BMG get on the royalties we owe him, and agree is the amount we owe him, if we actually pay him something?

David Singleton’s reply: I think Robert would like to be paid the amount he is owed."

You've got to love the BBC. Any broadcasting system that shines a light on their native composers and artists has got to be commended. America's public television has done this as well, but you don't seem to see this anymore. I'm not sure why, but I find myself going to YouTube much more these days in search of musical nourishment than my TV.

This documentary refers to Eno as an "intellectual guru." I would take slight issue with the word intellectual in the pejorative sense. If you mean he's a fascinating man who thinks (dreams) about new ways to make music and art then I agree. But Eno's process doesn't end with his mind-he listens and trusts his instincts.

To be honest, the best composers have always done this.

Brian Eno is one of the most interesting and thought-provoking composers of our time.

" If the last gentlemen were in the audience, perhaps very hard indeed. If the first gentlemen were also in that audience, impossibly hard." 

Being in radio, I have gotten my share of opinions which have been on the knuckle-dragging side of human intelligence. Being a musician, I have suffered through the tedious and uninformed opinions of the loud bar patron who just wants to bend the ear of one of the band members. Both add up to unnecessary and harmful noise which I no longer have the patience to endure. My personal choice and oath to myself is not to engage with comments of this nature. I avoid the poison.

I mean, how hard is it to just sit behind an microphone and talk?

If you only knew sometimes. If you only knew.

Brian Eno and Peter Chilvers roll out Scape - a new app currently available for iPad only. This brings the concept of generative music into the hands of musicians and non musicians alike.

Read about it here.

Fripp reads the Financial Times and now he's done an interview for them. This may answer your question about whether to enter into music as a career. 

Fripp has been in dispute with UMG for some time now. 

Here's an excerpt from his diary: "Mr. Most Useless Of Smiths in the UMG Business Affairs Department. 

This is the man who famously made the comment to Declan Panegyric: You cannot expect a company the size of UMG to read or apply the details of every contract of every catalogue it acquires.

 
Err. Um. Well. Alright. Actually, very much not - alright.

 
So, UMG accepts liability for those details in any contract it didn’t read, didn’t honour?

 
Err. Um. Well. No. Rather than acknowledging error and addressing it, promptly and reasonably, better to use the UMG in-house lawyer to block and deflect for three years. Then, when that has failed to drive us away, employ an expensive top London-lawyer to block and deflect with greater authority than Mr. Useless can summon from his common presence.

From everything I have read, the music industry is a really shady place. I have only been a local musician, but even my experience tells me that people come along who want to hussle you for their own purposes (read: money). 

I cannot imagine the smiling, hand shaking, music industry snakes and sharks that come out of the woodwork to offer a deal that ends up with the artist losing all rights to their own music, never receiving any royalties, and ending up owing the record company more money than they could earn in a lifetime.

And that's what happened to the lucky ones.

Rock 'n' roll is still considered to be an ephemeral art form. Here today and long forgotten tomorrow.

So, how did five lads from the UK start a band some 50 years ago and are still planning to play? There's no way to answer that question. The Stones story is epic, chaotic, messy, but has a swagger all its own.

The Rolling Stones have been reinventing themselves and staying relevant for audiences in a business notorious for churning them out, chewing them up and spitting them out. Record companies are sometimes little more than loan sharks and thieves, offering new bands Mephistopheles-like contracts that are unfair and unethical. And, fame, says Keith Richards, is "the most dangerous drug of all." 

What, then, gentle readers, does this all add up to?

Enter (It's free) to win an e-copy of this book. Here's what to do:

email feedback@wvpubcast.org with this in the subject line "The Stones at 50"

Be sure to include contact info.

That's all.

P.S. I can't say how many winners there will be, just enter, dummy.

It's the ultimate sound installation.

Wed the power of the sun to music al fresco and you have the Sun Box. Ingenious.

You can listen to the interview, which I approached as if we are in the sound installation, or read this from his website:

"It's comprised of 20 speakers, operating independently, each powered by the sun via solar panels. Inside each Sun Box is a PC board that has a recorded guitar note loaded and programmed to play continuously in a loop. These guitar notes collectively make a Bb chord. Because the loops are different in length, once the piece begins they continually overlap and the piece slowly evolves over time.

 
The obvious connection with the weather is the sun. Since there are no batteries involved with Sun Boxes, the piece is totally reliant on direct sun light. The sun also adds a volume variable: more sun means more power which means more volume. This variable can sometimes involve clouds. If clouds cover the sun, they can either cause Sun Boxes to lower in volume or turn off altogether. Sun Boxes is a system that improvises with Mother Nature."

"Watch out you rock 'n'rollers 

Pretty soon you're gonna get older."

~Bowie

"I guess you still have to pay for the past,

but it's much better medicated."

~C. Weise 

When David Bowie released his fictional persona, Ziggy Stardust, into the world on June 6, 1972, I was all of 14 years old. It was a turbulent time in my life on a number of levels.

It had not been a year since my father's sudden passing, my mother had remarried and we decided to move from Pennsylvania to what seemed to be the deep south - a place called Charleston, West Virginia. I was enrolled in a new school and pitifully trying to fit in while awkwardly being called "the new kid" every five minutes.

When I became friends with Charlie, I found a comrade not only in music, but in photography, graphic art and even martial arts. Charlie was as intuitive as me and just as eclectic. 

One afternoon, we found ourselves gathered in a friend's basement and on the stereo, playing at wall-shaking volume, was something so different, so odd and yet so compelling that I had to know what it was.

I was informed that this was Bowie's new album and what did I think? Needless to say, I was in shock. I knew David Bowie from Space Oddity like everyone else, but this was not a pleasant looking chap with a red shag haircut singing about a mishap in space, this was a whole new world.  

With the black lights making their eerie glow and a strobe light making a jumble of time and movement, Ziggy's androgynous voice was the guide through what seemed to be startling new musical territory. A rock music that rocked, but was buttressed by attention to instrumentation (craftily mixing hard rock guitars with acoustic ones) with lyrics that gave you pause ("Making love with his ego, Ziggy sucked up into to his mind, like a leper messiah." We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto.) and hooks that leapt out and seared into your mind.

I remember so clearly that I held the album, looking over it again and again, as if I could understand this alien invasion.

I could not. All I knew was that my parents were going to go mental if I brought this album home. Jimi Hendrix was already a confirmed "no" at our household. Oh yes, we could play music, but my step-father would often burst in and yell at us: "You call that music?"

Why, yes, I did and I still do.

Forty years later, this is still some of my favorite Bowie and some of my favorite music.

P.S. Ryko released an edition of Ziggy that had some really cool bonus tracks like acoustic demo versions of "Lady Stardust" and "Ziggy Stardust." Audiophiles, obnoxious as they can be sometimes, love to expouse their not-so-humble experiences on Amazon about which remastered edition is best, but use your own judgement. Those creeps don't really like music anyway.Like a leper messiah 

"Bloom is an endless music machine, a music box for the 21st century. You can play it, or you can watch it play itself."

~Brian Eno 

"Inspiration is cheap. Bliss is expensive."

~Peter Gabriel

This is bliss for your iPhone and it's cheap, but I digress.

 Brian Eno is a genius.

Eno has changed the course of music in the 20th and now in the 21st century. Most musos would agree that that is now fact. He was a vital part of glam rock, invented ambient music and brought it to popular music status, is responsible for the careers and reputations of countless influential bands (Talking Heads and U2 among them), is world renown for his innovative studio production, and has influenced the visual arts with his interactive installations. He's simply a giant of our time.

Plus, he's really funny.

Eno has been my musical north star ever since Evening Star, the second album he wrote with guitarist Robert Fripp. In short, he is a very special figure in my personal musical development and thinking.

That's why I was delighted to learn that Eno and collaborator Peter Chilvers have three new apps for iPhone available from iTunes. These fall under yet another innovative idea: generative music. I debated whether or not to get these, but I tend to buyer's regret in reverse. That is, I end up not buying them and then regretting it. I was not going to let these Eno gems get away.

Eno and Chilvers have done all the work for you. You just have to play. Or choose not to. It's all good.

Bloom does what it says: you can create or you can just listen. Turn it on and soft piano like synth sounds begin to hover. Touch the screen and a single note sounds and a corresponding circle forms like a water drop which continues out until it fades. It's very Zen-like. Do something or not, it matters not. Bloom offers some parameters for the user, such as selection of sounds, time of delay and even a practical sleep timer.

Trope seems to be more advanced than Bloom in some ways. The sounds, more akin to Neroli, are more complex and the images vary a lot more. A good companion in a noisy, crazy world.

Air is like your personal mixing station of Music for Airports. Peter Chilvers and Irish singer Sandra O'Neill have taken the basic concepts of Eno's seminal ambient work and placed them at your fingertips and imagination.

In short, I like all three, but you may just want to try them one at a time. Think about it: an automatic composing machine or a creative outlet or some background music? It's up to you.

I do recommend headphones (or ear buds) or a speaker system to fully appreciate these magic apps.

Sometimes in Zen 

we say, "Do nothing." 

But, in doing nothing, 

everything is done. 

I often get puzzled looks or questioning comments by close friends and loved ones.

When I brought home Duff McKagan's memoir, It's So Easy (And Other Lies), my wife let me know that my literary standards were really slipping: "Who is this guy? Why would you want to read this book?" She was appalled by the man on the cover. He was so rough and dirty looking.

She was right. Duff looks like the life he has lived. He is a clear product of his environment and the hard living in the madness that was Guns ' n' Roses, but his is a story of accountablity and redemption.

Here's the interview I did in November of 2011.

Funny thing is this: while Green Day were introducing GnR (sans Axl, of course), Duff and company were waiting in the wings.

"Who's the tall one?" came my wife's query. "That's Duff McKagan. The guy I interviewed" was my reply. Pause, then,

"He's kind of good looking." Well, well, well.

Then came the bomb:"Why did you want to read his book?" I can't win.

Along with singer Myles Kennedy,Duff and the boys went on stage and played a really strong set. They could tour without the hassle of Axl's childish antics.

"Punk is never having to say you're sorry."

Found this terrific documentary on progressive rock from the BBC. You have to admire the Beeb for being so in-depth on such an esoteric subject.

What is funny is that, after the inevitable fall of prog rock, the musicians, who were "ousted" by punk rock, sound apologetic.

Don't be silly.

Prog rock had its bad moments just like every musical style that's come and gone, but prog rock was (is) still some of the most exciting music ever made. These are wonderful musicians who made amazing music.

So, I hold my prog rock banner high and make no apologies.

In 4/4 or

11/8.

You don't have to go with the family on the usual vaco if music is your thing. Make music your vacation with the fabulous summer music camps being offered by the Full Moon Resort in New York. It seems they are offering something for everyone this year: song writer's, guitarists, and I'm very pleased to see a camp focused on female artists.

Having attended the Three of a Perfect Trio camp last year, I can tell you that it was quite an experience. The facility is nestled in the Hudson Valley in the Catskill Mountains, so the vibe is relaxed and mother nature is her usual spectacular self.

If you watch this video carefully, you may see your humble blogger enjoying himself. I had an incredible experience.

Think about it. 

What happens when "music bends over and whispers in our ear"?

This entry from Robert Fripp's diary is so well written, I have to share it.

"From the standpoint of someone who has dealt with the feelings and reactions of musicians, professionally, for 45 years: let’s hear it for rationality! Good to have an engaged feeling-life; not good to base life-directing decisions on arbitrary impulses and prejudices; in a word, irrationality.

"But reason only goes so far, albeit a long way. To travel further requires a leap in the dark; in a word, faith. Perhaps better expressed, then, as a leap into the Light. Faith is not superstition, not investment in dogma; rather, an experiential participation and engagement in a creative process informed by Love: an action founded in a discipline, way or practice. Belief is personal, what we hold. Faith is impersonal, and embraces us.

"For a boy, to aspire to a world-standard as a guitarist when tone deaf and with no sense of rhythm, is profoundly unreasonable; very much a leap in the dark. Yet, to follow that aim required the application of reason, and a lot of practicing.

"All the learned textbooks, on the –ologies and –isms of various forms of musical undertaking, don’t quite prepare us for when Music leans over and whispers in our ears, and takes us into its confidence. When we have a direct contact with the promptings of the Muse, the weighty books are useful for framing discussion of our experiencings, placing them in the wider context of musical, cultural and social life; but not as much for explaining the mechanics of how and why music, the Wine of Silence, enters our lives.

"Music engages the feelings, and is perhaps the best readily-available language we have for expressing the feeling-life. Perhaps, in time, we move from believing in the power of music to having faith in Music’s essential benevolence.

"Reason is primarily a cerebral activity, and best addresses the phenomenal world, what is available to sensory investigation; and stops in front of the noumenal. Both conditioned and unconditioned worlds (of facts and values) are necessary, to be brought together in action; which shouldn’t be so hard - because they are not apart. We can analyse the soundings of music and its forms of organization – frequencies and structure – but to enter the quality of musicness, something else is required; and this involves the heart.

"Our practical difficulty is the fragmented nature of the human being: we are apart-within-ourselves, out of tune, out of time, discordant. So, this then becomes a practical question: how do we achieve personal harmony? This question may be reasonably addressed."

 

"Behold, I make all things new."

This morning it occurred to me that, as I age, my body has undergone many changes. There are new conditions and restrictions to which I must adhere. I not only have to watch what I eat, but how much and when as well. Mysterious aches and pains are now a part of daily life. In short, my body and being have radically changed in the last two decades. 

My faithful companion, my beloved guitar, has changed as well. People are curious as to why the top is so torn up and worn down. That's the result of more gigs and concerts than I can remember. Ironically, while it was in much better cosmetic shape when I first bought it, it is now a far better instrument than when I purchased it. A simple truth: a guitar gets better when played and age can mellow and refine a guitar.

But can we bring forth a refinement and grace? Can we be renewed?

Of course, if we keep hope in our hearts and a faith that life is in constant renewal.

Music can renew us and keep our spirits young. Ralph Towner proves my point in spades.

Recently, I had the opportunity to interview one of my favorite musicians, Ralph Towner. Towner is of America's truly original voices whose style crosses many genres without flash or fanfare and integrates them into a seamless organic whole. 

You would think that after 40 some years of performing and composing that he might have lost some of his enthusiasm, but such is not the case. Towner has a youthful and open spirit. Until I edit my interview, here's NPR's interview from 2006.

So, an early happy birthday to Ralph Towner!

No one ever teaches us how to manage and operate the wonderous gift that is our body. We inhabit it in total ignorance and often are fighting against the natural grace and beauty of this "amazing design."

But all is not lost. We can stop getting in the way of the body and "support the intention of the original design."

Meeting Sandra was one of the best things about the all-too-brief Guitar Craft session held in Snowshoe, WV. Unlike the intense, "sweating bullets" guitar sessions with master Fripp, Sandra's gentle instruction about the Alexander Technique was an island of tranquility.

Sandra has a free podcast about the Alexander Technique as it relates to other mind-body disciplines. Listen here. 

There are a million reasons why you might do something.

There are a million reasons why you shouldn't.

Should I write a song? A symphony? 

Should I write a short story? A Poem? 

What if it's not good enough? After all, [insert name of genius here] had written their famous and incredible work at the age of [insert a very young age here]. I'm not good after all. I shouldn't try. 

In the world of the arts, one of the great mysterious entities, as noted in the last blog entry, is creativity. One of the greatest obstacles to creativity is ourselves. Or, sadly, other people.

Sometimes when I'm writing a piece of music or practicing the guitar, my inner voice of doubt, criticism and negativity can start to hamper progress. I noticed this process going on last week when I was trying to get my guitar chops back up to a decent level after the Christmas chaos was over. I was doing simple repetitive finger exercises designed for dexterity. All sorts of negative thoughts were going on in my mind as I tried to get the rust off my fingers. I realized this, stopped judging myself and continued ahead until the work was complete. 

If you think that negativity has no real effect, then listen to my interview with Glenn Kurtz, who quit the guitar for a decade because his voice of doubt drowned out reason. He told me that, "Nothing ever felt good enough."

I know many people to whom I would not go for creative advice or criticism. I can see them politely (and silently) dismissing my music or writing because it will not measure up to the tried-and-true masters. These people, though knowledgable, probably have no creative life because of those unrealistic attitudes. In order to create, we first must be free of judgment. We cannot write symphonic music with the ghost of Beethoven hovering over our workspace.

Craft will then guide us, shaping unformed ideas or discarding weak ones. It is a process: nothing more, nothing less.

In any creative life, craft, technique, knowledge and inspiration are the tools. Discipline is the vehicle which makes all these things possible, but the underlying sustaining element of all these things is very simple: love. If love is not the basis of your creative life, then your creative life will not be able to be sustained. Sheer force of will, or worse, egotism, are frail and faulty. If you do not truly love music (or your chosen creative field), then you will come to despair and maybe quit all together.

In his autobiography, Carl Jung remarked: " St. Paul wrote 'Love bears all things, endures all things.' These words say all there is to be said. There is nothing to be added to them."

To my point: be fully alive in your creativity.  

Or listen/download to T.S. himself reading it.

Or listen/download to a funny story by Robert Fripp?

Sorry. There are no Ernesto Magnito or Mailroom Dave downloads at this time.

Pumped Up Kicks by Foster the People is about the best pop song I've heard in a long time. The chorus or the hook of the song is simply irresistible, the use of electronics is not overpowering and the groove is simple, but tasteful.

 It also looks like everyone in the band is really enjoying themselves. The singer is quirky without being self-conscious about it.

The best part of this is how the music makes me feel. Music opens up emotions hidden beneath the surface.

Music is a powerful language all its own. Words fall so short.

That's why there's music, silly.

This is how to do it. And then some.

When you do an interview, you never know how it's going to turn out. I could use the metaphor of a dance, but riding a wild horse is more apt.

Earlier this month I had the opportunity to interview British composer-author-musician, Andrew Keeling. Keeling has written three books on one of my favorite subjects- King Crimson. The interview was wonderful as Keeling is as enthusiastic as he is knowledgeable. I didn't have to do any heavy pulling, as I sometimes feel I have to do to get genuine answers to my questions. Keeling's thoughts flowed as if he was reading an insightful dissertation about all matters Crim.

What are you planning then? A King Crimson special covering their entire output. I take on easy projects, yes?

We went through all 13 studio albums and I had him select his favorite cuts or just to talk about the album as a whole. It is very comprehensive. I am excited by this upcoming special on King Crimson.

 I'll keep you posted!

"I've always wanted to do a collection of my acoustic numbers with the London Philharmonic as you know." ~ David St. Hubbins (Spinal Tap)

The above quote is from the cult classic mockumentary Spinal Tap- a virtual handbook on what NOT to do if you are an aspiring rock star or a well-established icon. In short, with some exceptions (The Moody Blues, The Beatles, Frank Zappa), rock music does an epic fail when it tries to crossover into symphonic music.

 The result can be a dilution of both styles or unintended hilarity. Heaven forbid the last one because that's a sure credibility write-off.

Both Sting and Peter Gabriel have released albums with an orchestral "reworking" of their classic material. What is the result?

I must say that both men are in fine voice for men in their 60's. In fact, it's hard to tell the difference between now and say two decades ago. That fact alone is astonishing when you consider that more likely than not, rock voices tend to age rather harshly.

Of the two, Gabriel is far more experimental than Sting. Gabriel's dictum was clear: no guitar, bass or drums. Sting decided to keep a rhythm section and therein lies a big difference.

Sting's approach to  Symphonicities is playing it safe, but this is not to say that this album is bad, or out of place within his catalog, nor is it a stylistic mash-up.

The Police rocker "Next to You" is the opening number and somehow it rocks. Not only that, but the strings provide a rhythmic propulsion that gives a slight twist to this punk influenced number.

Other numbers like "Burn For You," "Every Little Thing She Does is Magic," and "Englishman in New York" all work really well, but the real surprising gem of this collection is "Roxanne." Who could have possible imagined that this once screechy, tango flavored hit could be a romantic (Yes, I wrote that.) bossa nova?

 (Sidebar: According to Andy Summers, Sting originally wrote it as a bossa nova while staying in his sitting room.) Take away the rock drive and the melody soars and Sting nails it. It's a keeper.

With the exception of "Roxanne," we are not given new interpretations of the songs which I think is the only real fault of the album. The songs tend to the feeling of having a less rock edge with some lovely orchestral bits tacked onto them.

Plus, where are all those glorious songs from Ten Summoner's Tales that are begging for an orchestral reworking? In short, more could have been done, but Sting's been soft for many years now.

Peter Gabriel's Scratch My Back was the lead-up to this new album, New Blood. The former being an album of covers and the results were less than what I expected from such a creative mind such as Gabriel's. I have always felt that Gabriel's instincts were golden, but in recent years, I have had a loss of faith in the quality of his music. Scratch My Back suffered from an over-the-top sensitivity in the interpretation of the songs, so my hopes were muted for the new album.

I am pleased to say that most of the songs on this album work for me. "San Jacinto" sounds like it was always meant to be done with an orchestra and Gabriel sounds terrific, belting out the passion and never overdoing the quieter vocal parts.

"Red Rain," "Mercy Street," and "Downside Up," all work very well. "Downside" has one serious issue with form (returning to my earlier comment regarding Gabriel's instincts): the piece ends abruptly with just Gabriel and piano, cutting short the chorus. I was dumbfounded the first time I heard this and thought my CD player had skipped.

Clunkers include "Intruder" where some "Tapish" moments occur and "Darkness" which neither has the intended menace nor coherence.

One problem plaguing this project is the blending of the background vocalists, daughter Melanie Gabriel and Ane Brun. Their voices simply have no compatability. Individually, I prefer Melanie's sweetness to Brun's mousy warble. And don't ask about Brun's performance on "Don't Give Up" because I have no answer for it. PG, where are you?

Ironically, the one piece that Gabriel didn't want to include is the joyful FM staple "Solsbury Hill." Whereas the 80's megahit "In Your Eyes" benefits not at all from the New Blood orchestra, "Solsbury" is a knockout and Gabriel sounds perfect.

Here's my summary, oh music lovers: Unless you are a dedicated fan of Sting and Gabriel, I would suggest taking the cherry picking route of downloading your favs from these albums via MP3.

I love to take an early evening walk (and jog when the spirit moves me) and the music that accompanies me greatly influences not only my gait, but how I view things around me. I chose Robert Fripp and Brian Eno's 1973 sessions for the BBC which is a live version of the album No Pussyfooting. I downloaded the music from DGM. 

 Last evening, I learned two things. First, a great deal of people were concerned with yardwork (something I avoid) and more specifically, the gathering of their leaves. This seasonal act of futility was being practiced on just about every block I walked down. People were armed with all sorts of powerful looking leaf blowers and they looked about as happy as I was when I used to do it. The contrast between what I was hearing and what I was seeing was at times so extreme that I found myself quite amused, but that's another story for another blog.

The second thing I learned is that, despite Fripp and Eno being an extremely strange and contradictory choice for exercise music, their work is as powerful to me today as when I first heard it nearly 40 years ago. The basic premise of these sessions were simple: both Fripp and Eno would create loops, on guitar and synthesizer respectively, and then Fripp would solo, providing a "melody" or a lyrical narrative amidst the dense electronic textures.

 The Heavenly Music Corporation began in the usual Frippertronic fashion of layered tones of electric guitar outlining what seems to be an ordinary minor mode, but then the mood (and modes) begins to darken and the atmosphere is foreboding. The live version is much shorter and not nearly as psychotic a listening experience as the album version.

  Swastika Girls is a perfect vehicle for everything that I love about Fripp's electric guitar solos: long, sustained serpentine lines which seem to musically contradict themselves or at least fall well outside of the realm of expectation and the feeling that the man seems to be pouring out his very soul. As a friend of mine might say, "He's wailing on that guitar." Indeed he is.

This is not, gentle readers, for those whose musical tastes are conservative.

And maybe not for those who believe that gathering leaves in a pile assures that they will remain so.

"Nobody dreams of being addicted."

My former colleague forwarded me an email about would I be interested in a new memoir by ex-Guns N' Roses bassist, Duff McKagan. I remember her slyly smiling as if to say, "What will you do with this one, Mr. Lange?"

To be honest, I didn't know either. GN'R weren't exactly my cup of tea back in the day, but on a lark, I sent an email to the publicist saying 'yes' to what I considered was a chance to read what might be a Spinal Tap-ish vanity publication by some empty-headed rocker. Besides, it was free.

Boy, was I wrong.

There is nothing vain or self-congratulatory about this compelling tale of a relentless ambition to first break into the Seattle punk scene and then to form Guns N' Roses, whose meteoric rise came with a heavy personal cost to McKagan.

Note: this cautionary tale pulls no punches and is not for younger readers.

Buy me at Amazon. 

Happy Crimson Camping, Part 1.

When I read that King Crimson members Adrian Belew, Pat Mastelotto and Tony Levin were going to have a five-day camp in the Catskills in New York, at first I couldn’t believe what I was reading.

These three powerhouse musicians were going to have a camp where instruction, rehearsals, interaction and a concert were part of the same ticket? How could these music gods descend from Mount Olympus and let us mere mortals and certified Crimson geeks get a glimpse into their world?

Easy. Adrian’s blog admonition was, “Just get here.”

I did my usual indecisive spiraling until my wife put the ultimatum to me: “Are you going or not?” I need ultimatums or I continue spiraling. Yes, a decision was made, but to fly or not to fly? Did I want the airline to destroy or lose my baby guitar? No, and so driving it was.

After nearly 11 hours (over two days), I arrived at my lodge and found things to be not quite the luxurious accommodations I believed they were going to be, but this was going to be a place for sleeping and little else.

Everything was 1.6 miles away up the road at the Full Moon Resort.

As I was pulling in, I saw a familiar face: bass hero Tony Levin. For the initiated, he has played on over 500 albums - some of which you already own. He is one of the most sought after session players, regarded by his peers as one of the world’s best players and has toured or played with Peter Gabriel, Paul Simon, Seal and many other highly regarded stars. He has always been one of my favorite bass players; combining a classical sensibility with an exquisite musicality and impeccable technique. In short, there’s nobody much better than Tony Levin for my money.

As I head to the main house, Tony says hello with a cheerful smile. Someone pinch me. I walk among the gods and they see me not as shadow, but as a person. Coming out of the main house, Tony greets me. “Hi. Who are you? You look very familiar.”

I search for meaningful words. None are forthcoming. Color me star struck. “I’m Jim Lange. I work for West Virginia Public Radio. Have you ever been to West Virginia?”

Tony ponders for a second. “No. I don’t think so.”

Before the conversation gets to anything meaningful, the Levin god excuses himself because of pressing business and I am left in shock.

Now, why would a 53-year-old man be so awestruck? It's not easy meeting people whose work you have admired. A mythology begins to grow and that can replace reality. Also, we are among the best of the best – the player’s players. The fan-child in me wants to run up and hug him. The 53-year-old inside speaks to me of maintaining a level of self-respect and dignity. Self-respect and dignity? I’ll try that one.

Time to gather some serious swag: a T-shirt specifically designed for the camp, a 25 foot guitar cable, drumsticks, instrument strap and a copy of Levin’s photography book,-The Crimson Chronicles Vol. 1, and Adrian Belew’s latest CD. As one resort employee exclaimed, “You guys have gotten the most swag of any camp we’ve ever had.” Swag is good, but what about the Crimson Three?

The schedule we were given at the outset soon become irrelevant as changes were almost immediately made. The first official gathering was in “the barn,” a new building which will become a rehearsal space and a classroom.

Adrian, Pat and Tony began a very informal and relaxed welcome and introduction to their ideas as to camp activities.

“What you are going to find out right away is we’re regular people who became somewhat known rock players. We’re not stars who want security between us and the fans,” Tony began sincerely. “I plummeted to stardom one time,” Adrian joked.

Levin continued, “This is the kind of thing I never do, so I’m breaking my rules. I don’t like being in a teaching position, but I can tell I’m going to learn a lot.” These three professionals were ready to teach, answer questions and hang out with their adoring fans.

One of my favorite topics, the song Frame By Frame, came up from a question posed by a camper and the citation for the source of inspiration for that song was Robert Fripp's interest in gamelon music. I rose to my feet (I can be fearless in my quest for knowledge) to interject, "Gamelon is often cited as the inspiration for the intertwining guitar parts, but I believe the source to believe American composer Steve Reich's music."

"You're a very smart man," Belew very nicely stated and then told a story about how he and David Bowie (Yes, that David Bowie. I told you this was big stuff.) went to see Steve Reich ensemble perform Music for 18 Musicians in London.

After the concert, Bowie said to Adrian, "Robert Fripp is sitting over there. Why don't you go and talk to him?"

Sure enough, Adrian goes over, has a conversation with Robert and he gives Adrian his number. "He wrote it on my arm," Belew said, although I'm sure he was jesting.

"With a knife?," Levin asked. It was a moment where one of my musical speculations was validated and I learned that perhaps Bowie, once again, changed the history of music by merely introducing Adrian to Robert.

Thank you, David. For me, a Fripp-Bowie-Reich story told by Adrian? Jackpot.

Part 2: More insider stories and how the pros recover from mistakes.

“The highest quality of attention we may give is love.” ~ Fripp

On the 16^th of this month, guitarist Robert Fripp celebrates his 65^th birthday. I have spent many an hour listening to his music and thinking about his observations posted in his online diary. This is my way of saying thanks to someone who has greatly influenced my musical thinking and my life. 

Like most music fans, I first became aware of guitarist Robert Fripp through King Crimson’s 1969 release, In the Court of the Crimson King, an album that some believe set the standard for progressive rock. Though the other players were superb, it was Fripp’s distinctive guitar lines that caught my attention. This was more akin to jazz and the avante-garde than the blues-rock language of the time. 

His accomplishments are far too vast to list here, but in short he has changed the course of contemporary music a number of times, worked with some of the brightest and most accomplished musicians of our time, written a powerful and original body of music and has had a profound influence on generations of musicians. He is a force majeure not only in music, but as a person. This I learned not only from reading his diary, but by meeting him in person. 

Back in 2008, I had read that a Guitar Craft course was going to be taught in Snowshoe, West Virginia and I fretted (pun intended) about going. Finally, my wife said, “You may never get another chance. You better go.” That removed all doubts and I set forth to meet the master. 

Driving to Snowshoe was easy except when old man winter decided to show a truly ugly face. Winds were howling, snow was blinding and the sky turned an ominous black-blue. I couldn’t find my lodgings and people were scarce. The whole scenario had turned into a Stephen King novel. 

Through a snowy windshield, I saw the name of the “village” where the course was to take place. I quickly settled in and ran like mad to the house were all were to gather. The room was gently buzzing with pleasant conversation and quick introductions were made. All the while, I was nervously scanning the room for the presence of you-know-who.

Without fanfare, appeared a smiling and cordial Robert Fripp who said a polite and very British, “Hello” to us all. 

The mood in the room changed the minute he appeared. Suddenly quiet and respectful, everyone tried to act normal, but we stole glances like furtive paparazzi. When we sat down for dinner, the room filled with silence. Not an uncomfortable silence, but a curious welcoming - one that brought the buzzing social pleasantries to a halt. I thought, “OK, you’re the boss, you’re the teacher. Now teach us.” And did he ever. 

For the next four days, we mixed meditation, Alexander Technique, guitar playing, and vegetarian meals in an atmosphere that was almost monastic.

Rising at 7 for meditation, I spent the days in a whirlwind, trying to navigate a new tuning (and a new guitar), a new technique and the evening guitar circle which was a true test of all of one’s faculties.

We did stress-inducing things like playing in 5/4, which of its own can breed some difficulty, but with each beat being played by a different player, it was quite the task.

Then we combined 5/8 and 7/8, one meter for two separate groups. This is called “Thraking” by Fripp and the result was both chaotic and thrilling. I doubt any one of the students attending that course left it without a powerful impression. 

So, early birthday cheers to the Fripp! 

Selected Discography: 

Exposure

In the Court of the Crimson King

Discipline

Thrak

“In fact, we had to disguise our true nature as rapacious capitalists by leading the charge of Cultural Revolution.” ~ quote from Strange Things Happen: A Life with The Police, Polo and Pygmies.

When I heard that drummer Stewart Copeland, of The Police, had penned his life in music, I had to read it. The Police were unusual in popular music in that they combined catchy hooks with solid and often innovative musicianship.

Copeland’s style is an inextricable part of The Police sound. It was the rocket fuel that drove the pop-punk-reggae fusion that was their signature.

Stewart Copeland is truly cosmopolitan. His father, working for the CIA, moved the family to Cairo, and consequently Copeland spent his youth in the Middle East. College was both in the UK and the US, but it was London where he settled and eventually where he formed the band that was to take him all over the world.

What I was searching for was an in-depth, behind-the-scenes look at the rise and fall of The Police. The “chapter” on this, if you call two pages delivered in a grocery list style an actual chapter, is greatly disappointing to state the least.

However, the book dedicates many pages to the Police reunion tour and here we get a look at life inside “the band bubble.”

You would figure that three well-established millionaire musicians could cheerfully summon up hits from a bygone golden era and happily trot the globe, playing to sellout audiences, in ultra luxurious style and all would be well. Not so. 

In fact, I am really surprised that Stewart and Sting (Otherwise referred to by Stewart as the Prophet, Stingo, the Kingdom of Stingdom and a host of other derogatory names.) have not seriously injured each other. I am not joking.

The volatility between Stewart and Sting is legendary and has not mellowed with time.

Copeland’s bluntness makes the tension between himself and The Golden One (another Sting variation) often very funny for the reader:

“My high esteem for you has kept my hands from your throat, my axe from your handsome brow.” Or “They warn me of side effects (of cortisone)-such as irritability and flashes of temper. Good thing I’m in an environment where this won’t be a problem.”

There are some genuinely funny moments, a la Spinal Tap, in Turin, Italy when the band is given a real polizia escort (complete with sirens and flashing lights) only to discover that the band bus and entourage have somehow turned onto the freeway, heading away from the stadium.

On the radio, the stage manager is heard asking, “Uh….is the band going to play tonight?” After getting turned around and after exploring the parking lot for a while, the band is finally driven to the stage where they are now twenty minutes late. The only thing that didn't happen was a good old "Hello Cleveland!" to the situation.

Police fans are going to find Copeland’s book a funny and fascinating look at the often tumultuous, downright ridiculous and truly strange life of a professional musician.

Buy the book here at Amazon.

Hello all patient listeners of EclecTopia and Classical Music!

In case any of you noticed, I've been absent from the air waves. It was sort of a sabbatical. Not a sabbatical that I would have chosen, but certainly one that was surely necessary. Now I'm itching to get back to what i love to do: interviewing interesting people, creating programming that spans both the classical and contemporary genres, sharing what I truly believe is inspiring music, and most of all, interacting with you.

I refer to you as the "gentle listeners." While some of you have been feisty at times, I do believe that my programming has found an informed and discriminating audience. We may disagree at times, but the debate shows that you care about programming as much as I do. When I choose a piece of music for broadcast, I am showing you my soul. That's how deeply music runs for me. It's not a hobby, not merely a profession, but something that communicates to me on a level that transcends words. I sense that other people feel the same way. 

Like many people, I discovered the humor of David Sedaris on This American Life. He stood out in every way from the other contributing writers.

His razor sharp observations were not just based in fashionable (and lazy) sarcasm and cynicism. Rather, his observations about people’s follies or odd behavior always rang with a truth that seemed to come from a genuine affection for his subjects.

His perspective is undeniably offbeat, but time and again reaches our funny bones because we recognize ourselves in those stories. Many times, David Sedaris writes what we secretly think and we laugh aloud without restraint at his daring, unapologetic honesty.

The author frequently collects stories from the people who come to his shows. One tour had a theme of collecting 'rudeness' stories.

“How the mighty have fallen...”

I can’t believe what I’m about to say: Peter Gabriel’s new album, a collection of covers called Scratch My Back, is awful. Let me say outright how difficult it is for me, being a fan since 1973, to say that.

I have always admired Gabriel’s relentless pursuit of the creative in rock music, but in recent times, I fear his muse has abandoned him. There were some hints beginning as early as 1992’s Us continuing with Up and the dreadful OVO. This album confirms that his best work is behind him.

Scratch My Back is a collaboration with John Metcalfe, British violist and composer, with the philosophy of solely using orchestral instruments and piano as the sole backing for Gabriel’s voice. With great and diverse songs like Bowie’s Heroes to Paul Simon’s The Boy in the Bubble, what could it go wrong?

Everything, apparently.

The idea here is that, by taking a new approach and eschewing the typical rock format of guitars-bass-and-drums, that something new could be discovered about these well-known songs. The trouble is that none of these songs has any spark or excitement.

The orchestra, used here on a limited number of tracks, is not used with any of the incredible force and drive that a modern orchestra can deliver. The piano accompaniment is also stripped down to mere basics. Gabriel mutters and sputters weakly, I believe, in hopes of an honest and vulnerable interpretation, but falls so terribly short.

Without passion or spot-on delivery, no concept, however genuine or good and idea it is, can succeed artistically. You can, trust me, flat out scratch Scratch My Back.

This week's show is going to be a little different. I'm letting "somebody" else do the show.

The iPod has revolutionized how we listen to music. These little portable computers that fit into our hands can hold thousands of songs. In fact, I haven't even filled up half of mine. Put the thing on shuffle and you might find yourself delightfully surprised at the choices. That's how the idea was born. 

I'm going to let my iPod do the show this week. All of the choices will be determined, with some editorial judgement on my part, by the iPod. 

So, far, I have been surprised and delighted. I'm hoping you will too.

This Sunday, March 14, starting at 10pm, listen to my iPod's choices.

Chaise Lounge, who came to Charleston back in November '09, has announced that a new album is coming in the spring. If you haven't heard their albums, Second Hand Smoke or The Early Years, you are missing some great music. Here's my interview with bandleader, Charlie Barnett.

I emailed Charlie about the new album and asked for some hints. He was very gracious! It's called Insomnia, consisting of 15 tracks, a mix of originals and covers. He writes, "We are really excited about Insomnia. It is a spare, very live sounding CD. Next to no overdubs. There is, if this makes sense, a lot of air in the recording. I think that it really reveals the character of each musician in the band."

In January, the group played the Kennedy Center. Here's the link to that concert. 

You make the difference.
 

We say that all the time, but what do we mean by it?

YOU are the reason we broadcast. I hope that the music programming is unlike anything else on the airwaves. EclecTopia is decidedly different and your support has kept it in production for six years.

EclecTopians unite! It's time for us to pledge and be counted.
If you make a pledge of $120, we can send you a box of delicious chocolates by Holl's. he chocolates will only last as long as your self-restraint, so what else are you getting for your pledge?

 
 1. Eclectopia for 52 weeks a year. That's a $1.92 a show! That's barely a pack of gum these days.
You are the public in public radio and the reason that I produce EclecTopia every week. EclecTopia is a unique show in the realm of public radio. There is a phrase that you hear in the business: risk aversion. It means playing it safe so that you generate a large audience or you don't alienate your previous one. EclecTopia is not afraid to play artists no one has ever heard of nor artists who express themselves so uniquely that they are not 'mainstream.' This is not about playing it safe, but to share with you artists who are making passionate, articulate, innovative music regardless of their style.

 2. West Virginia Public Radio 24/7 service.  

Every day WVPR comes to you with news, music and entertainment. We're always here, even in the deep snow. Isn't that dedication worth a pledge?  

3. The satisfaction of knowing that you made a difference.  

You support a program, it helps to keep it on the air. It's that simple. EclecTopia has been in production for six years and I feel like we are just getting started. Keep this show coming to you every week. You make all the difference.  

4. Gourmet chocolate.  

That says enough. Make a pledge and help us stay strong!

Anna Ternheim is a Swedish artist whose voice is one that will quickly get under your skin. Her quirky phrasing and honest delivery are without the over-the-top jaded affect that is so common in commercial music. Leaving on a Mayday has some great songs including Off the Road. Even seemingly straight forward lines like, “Off the road, somewhere I don't know, soon with you, it's gonna blow,” speak volumes about the private wars of troubled lovers.

Kate Rusby has one of those singular voices that hooks you instantly. She could sing a grocery list and make it heartfelt. Awkward Annie is an album full of characters including Bitter Boy – a song about unrequited love: “But I will rise, and I will sing, Until the day I can't conceal it, Because I hold the saddest song, And wish to God I cannot feel it.” The next time you see a music awards show, please wonder why Kate Rusby isn’t performing on it.

Want to buy your music loving friends some great CDs? Here’s a list of some highlights.

Listening to Chaise Lounge is like donning a smoking jacket, putting a vinyl record on from the 1960’s and letting the smoky jazz carry you away. It is a sound that is both retro and fresh, with tight arrangements, but never at the cost of a laid back feel. Plus, they describe their music as that rarest of styles – lounge.
 
Charlie Barnett is the group’s guitarist, composer and arranger. I had an opportunity to speak with him about the group and their upcoming concert as part of the Charleston Jazz Series.

The concert:

Charleston Jazz Series
Sat. November 21, 2009
8:00 PM: $25
Buffet Dinner: $20.95 (6:30-8:00)

The recordings:

The Early Years

Second Hand Smoke