When rock and rollers hit a certain (middle) age, many of them feel compelled to write a baseball song. But having one of our own still going at 42, well, that just begs a song. So in the tradition, hopefully, of Zevon and Dylan (and not so much Fogerty), here is mine:
He don't need no injections in his ass He makes the ball flutter, it don't need to go fast Hitters swinging just like a cartoons when it passes The knuckleball from Timmy Wakefield
I remember all the late innings of June But there came a night with a big harvest moon And an October game when a Yankee named Boone Hit a long one off of Tim Wakefield
But fishing off of Melbourne in the off-season glare Knowing that middle-aged men everywhere Are harboring dreams that they could be up there Pitching just like Timmy Wakefield
When the boys are all flailing as the weather gets warm He always remain the calm eye of the storm There are 18 year-old people who might have been born When a night game was pitched by Tim Wakefield
Batters strike out, pop up, heads bowed low And into dark dugout tunnels they go And still confused as the video shows They were defeated by Timmy Wakefield.
Boston may not be the easiest place It's not every player they warmly embrace So just go ask Keith Foulke if he would trade places In history with Tim Wakefield
You know what they say about saving nine Well Doug Mirabelli was his stitch in time The State Police escorted him for no crime We just needed him to receive Tim Wakefield
Taking the mound or offering his time for charity's sake and then on down the line There are plenty of people who will be crying When they hang up the spikes of Timmy Wakefield
Dylan has written all about Catfish I may never write like Bobby, Wake like Pedro won't pitch But true Red Sox fans will always know what they wish To have nine players just like Timmy Wakefield Nine players just like Timmy Wakefield Give me nine players just like Timmy Wakefield
This has to be my 25th year with this event. Honestly, I lost count. It is natural to feel like it is getting old, stale, and for the participants to be less excited as the years go by. And I can only speak for myself, but this is sometimes the ennui-like winter feeling that sets in each December/January. Part of it is the post-holiday exhaustion and typical winter darkness. But it is precisely that inertia and negativity that we must battle in life. And Hot Stove Cool Music proves year upon year to be the unexpected reward for getting my ass out of the house, meet and chat via emails and phone calls with the main organizers, and rehearse the various segments of which I am part. Just when you think it is time to move on, we end up getting down to the Paradise, seeing old friends, playing great music, brushing elbows with young Red Sox stars on their way up (see me and Wild Thing Papelbon, above) and I end up having one of the greatest times, not just of the winter, but of the year. Get your tickets now. Raise money for a great Boston charity event.
If I had a dollar for every time a girl/woman told me it's not me it's her...
Our friend from way back, Juliana, graciously offers her version/explanation of the events described in my Dreaming post.
Bill, it's not you; it's me. Don't take it personally that I said I would sing on "Dreaming" and then I took off. You see, I suffer from a sometimes crippling disorder called "Rock Club-itis". It is a phobia; a fear of being in any rock club for even one second longer than I absolutely have to, in order to do my work.
Like an alcoholic develops a sick liver after years of tippling, a touring indie musician can develop an intensely strong physical aversion to being in rock clubs. A drunk is affected, over time, by too many drinks, too many hangovers; I have been damaged by too many hours hanging out in the darkness, sitting on too many dirty, beer-stained, puke-scented couches in cramped, freezing-cold and stifling-hot backstage kennels. I guess you could call this affliction a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder. Or post-rock stress disorder. PRSD. The inevitable result of all my years on the club circuit; years of forced exposure (work; touring) to that stifling, harsh (everything always so LOUD! Too loud! Hurts my ears!), unsanitary and uncomfortable environment. (I won't even get into how a gig schedule screws up one's circadian rhythms.)
This is how bad it is: When I'm walking down a street and I spot rock club in the distance, I get queasy and nail-bitey and I have to cross the street in order to avoid passing too closely to the venue lest my growing anxiety (proportionate to how close I am to the club) overwhelm me and, like, throw me into a fit of hysterics or something.
And that is my explanation for bailing before you guys played "Dreaming". I wanted to sing with you, I really did, but as I stood waiting for the song to come up in your set list, I started to feel that old familiar nauseous/frightened feeling and the flashbacks started happening and the walls started closing in on me and I knew then that I had to flee the venue, for sanity's sake. I had hoped that I could stick it out until "Dreaming" rolled around but I failed. I failed you, Buffalo Tom, and I failed myself. I am weak.
Plus, I am really shy. Jumping up on stage with a band during their show always SOUNDS like a good idea in theory, but when showtime rolls around and my guest appearance looms, I sometimes chicken out. I can't speak for Westerberg, but maybe he experienced something similar.
Oh, and FYI- I did actually play guitar in the first incarnation of the Blake Babies; you were correct about that. We were originally a quartet, with Seth White on bass, myself on rhythm guitar, and John Strohm on lead (Freda on drums). I later switched to bass, when Seth quit the band. From then on, the Blake Babies were known as a trio.
I'm a little late to this book. It sat there in my pile of things to read, CDs listen to, bills to pay, songs to finish, laundry to fold...meanwhile I find 15 minutes to slap up blog posts. I did not come to this book as a huge fan of Cormac McCarthy, though I feel this might change a bit. I've only read 1 or 2 other books and I am aware that this is a departure from earlier work.
But I'm glad I waited. This book hit me at just the right time, it seems. I'm not 100% certain of what I mean by that; maybe any time I chose to read it would have felt like the right time. But this book spoke to me on a fundamental level and has heightened certain essential components of my consciousness.
I read it last week in a matter of a night or two. The last thing I expected was a page-turner. But I gather this is the reaction of many people who have read it. It compels readers for various reasons, some feeling that they are even responsible for helping the characters along, which is a notion that is both absurd and deeply true of any book. Like the tree that falls in the forest, e.g. I don't let myself get overexposed to reviews and criticism of books or movies. I don't want a story spoiled in advance, but more importantly, I don't my own perception clouded by judgments made by others. After forming my own opinion, I seek out those same reviews, at least in channels I trust. I want to compare notes.
I am being elliptical. I think all of this preface is just me avoiding the real topic, that is how profoundly moving I found The Road. Certainly being a father has a lot to do with my extreme reaction. But I have not shaken the effects of having read this now 4 days after the fact. But more significantly is that I don't think I will ever forget it. I think the emotions will become less acute, but the overarching theme, the poetry of the prose, the philosophy behind the story, the allegories and the story itself...
I am torn between re-reading it immediately and trying to move on. Seriously. It was a physical involvement, reading it. I don't know that I can recommend it to everyone who reads this site. I guess I'm more eager to hear from others who have read it.
I just plugged in, "Kenney Jones underrated" in Google. I only came up with a few posts on message boards, his name listed in one or two posts, next to posts about guys in Spyro Gyra and metal bands, drummers using mallets, double kick drums, etc.
I've been listening a lot to the Small Faces and the Faces over the past few years, growing up with the latter but only really getting deeper into the former in the past decade. And Kenney's drumming is stunning -- ranging from what might be called power soul, likely what gave the Who the idea for the tagline, "Maximum R&B," to a more restrained approach, which is a typical arc for a maturing musician. The Small Faces had a much higher R&B quotient than the Who, who were more "maximum" than "R&B" in their approach. There's a straight line from the early Small Faces to Led Zeppelin's hard blues (to the extent that Zep -- as they did with the work from so many other artists -- actually lifted Small Faces bits wholesale.) And the relationships between all of those bands in '60s London was closely intertwined, with shared labels, managers, clubs, and side musicians. Their fellow early mods, the Who clearly admired their brethren in the Small Faces, as Keith Moon in his hardest partying days, when he perhaps glimpsed his end, speculated on a hand-picked successor, none other than Kenny Jones. And of course, this is the very drummer they picked after Moon's death.
"Ogden's Nut Gone Flake"
From the Small Faces’ earliest singles like "What'cha Gonna Do About It" to their more experimental psychedelic-era opus LP Ogden's Nut Gone Flake, Jones' power and control were on display. This is the style of drumming that would have made him a musical fit for the Who. But he later settled into a more finessed, restrained style that would have come from some of his R&B heroes like Al Jackson of the MGs and all of those Stax recordings, the same southern “in the pocket” groove that Charlie Watts concentrated on in his transition from a jazz drummer to his role in the Rolling Stones. It is this style that can be heard in its austere extreme on Faces tracks like "Tell Everyone" and the artful drum track on "Love Lives Here." It is not merely the simplicity; it is the musicality of the drums, the groove and the space, the way Jones locks in with the bassist Ronnie Lane. When he does augment the basic backbeat, it is with tastefully placed fills consisting simple snare rolls and one or two rack tom hits. This is the sort of groove-centric style he employs on songs like "Debris" and "Ooh La La." On the latter, most of the track is backed by tension-building percussion and whole-note kicks. When Jones backs the tack-piano solo, he adds a cross-stick snare drum (stick placed on the drum head and clicked lightly on the rim).
"Tell Everyone"
"Love Lives Here"
Even when the Faces went all out and raved it up, as with their biggest hit "Stay With Me," Jones' is just laying it in there simply, with an improbable 16th-note high hat pattern (presaging disco), not some huge-ass reverberating, brutal multi-drum fills a la Jason Bonham or Keith Moon (not a man known for his finesse with the high hat). When Jones really lets go on "Stay With Me," he merely loosens up the high hat to create more splash and adds a few rolls at the end of some bars. Even on the drum solo, he adds a few jazzy, Gene Krupa-like fills - no flaming gongs to be heard here. In fact, it is on this song as well as "Feel So Good" (live), the cover of "Maybe I'm Amazed," and other rave-ups, as the drumming gets a bit heavier handed, that Jones swings more than rocks. I mean, it is rocking and gets heavy, but it never loses that slinky swing. I love this style on other tracks like "Miss Judy's Farm" and the amazing cover of "I'm Losing You." Contrast this to his more Moon/Bonham-like approach on "Come on Children" from the Small Faces in 1965. The man comes out swinging, looking for a fight. The boogie is evident, but the fills are exhilaratingly chaotic and reckless, barely landing in place. Even covering his MGs backing Otis Redding, on "Shake" on the same record, Jones adds way more mid-verse fills.
Back when I was a teenager, playing in my first bands, we used to have endless arguments about with guitarist was the best -- Hendrix, Jeff Beck, Jimmy Page, Jerry Garcia, Townshend, Keith, Van Halen etc. And there were other such discussions about drummers. But those usually ended around Bonham, Moon, maybe Appice, Neil fuckin' Pert, and so on. I was usually in the minority of pip squeaks advocating for Keith, Charlie, even Ringo, of course. Those are more my guys, along with Levon Helm and musician's musicians like Dave Mattacks. Sure, I love and have always loved the more pyrotechnic Moon and Bonham and Hendrix and Page. But maybe it was because I have never been able to play very fast and/or complicated guitar parts, but I never really tried either. It was not my interest. I hated, HATED Rush, Van Halen and all those huge technically flashy acts. I wanted the guy that played the Harvest beat (Kenny Buttrey), or one who could lay down a clean, feel-good backbeat to play against. But Kenney Jones was the guy who replaced Keith Moon to me and millions more like me, then went on to do those two lame Who albums (yeah, "Eminence Front" was great, but "You Better You Bet???) Not Kenney's fault he joined that party too late, but my knowledge of the Small Faces and the Faces were only a bare minimum at age 13 and 14 -- a few songs on the radio or in the LP collections of the older brothers of friends.) My appreciation of him has become more intense as I get older and listen more and more closely.
Firstly, my best wishes goes out to the family of Pat Leonard and the Moving Targets family. Pat was the original bassist of the seminal Boston band, the Moving Targets, who were an influence on Buffalo Tom. We learned today that he has recently passed away.
Thanks to all of you who came down to see my friends, brothers, and me enjoying ourselves down at Lizard Lounge in October, and previously at Toad. And a special thanks to the musicians who played with me, the band that was Tom Polce-less Crown Victoria, Matt Tahaney, Phil Aiken, and Billy Beard, and all the guests: Scott, Paul and Tom Janovitz, Sean Staples, Matt Pynn, Paul Ahlstrand, Tanya Donelly, Ruth Peterson, Mike Gent, Corin Ashley, Tom Perrotta, Joe Guese, anyone I missed?
Hope to get it going again some day. If you're having withdrawal and want to see some great live music at the Lizard Lounge, Session Americana plays every Tuesday. You will love it.
I promise now to move on to something more important than politics and whatever it is Sarah Palin is practicing. Yes, it is time to discuss music.
So all of you who come here for that (the same 5 people who showed up at my show at the Lizard Lounge, minus the two who engage in political jousting), let's talk about music. I will tell you something and then I want you to tell ME something.
Me first: Round 2 of the 6-round gladiator hootenanny at the Lizard Lounge is fast approaching this Thursday night. I will tell you that very special guests will be coming to sit in at one or more of the upcoming shows. When I say "very special," I friggin' mean it. Of course, Billy, Billy, Matt, and Philly are all special to me as well. But I mean, special to you, the "Joe Fan."
Warning to those not interested in the Sox (as I don't want to offend any more folks by straying off topic, what I know best, should stick to, etc.): SOX WIN! BEAT NAYSAYERS! GO ON TO CHALLENGE YOUNG UPSTARTS WHO WILL LIKELY FALL AT THE HANDS OF THE CHAMPS!
OK, back to music now. Me? I'm digging all kinds of stuff lately, from getting back into the Feelies (whom I was going to go see until the SOX advanced -- dang, sorry!), to the Ohio Players, to Coltrane (very much back on Lush Life), Gene Clark, Mean Creek, the Budos Band...oh man, so good. Tell me, tell me what you like.
Yes, one more show at Toad Thursday, September 18. Then look for us every Thursday in October at the Lizard Lounge, all in fabulous Cambridge.
I want to announce another show, at the risk of losing more "fans" like those who defected from the mailing list back when I was right about the then-oncoming Iraq War, bemoaning the fact that an artist (yeah, me) whose music they liked had gone "political" (which really meant they disagreed with my politics). Anyway, this will be a short set on Dunster Road in Jamaica Plain, Boston, for a real street-level Obama fundraiser on Sunday, September 21. The event will also feature Jimmy Tingle, Michael Tarbox, Chris Toppin and Jim Buni, and other speakers and musicians. Jimmy has some details here: FUNRAISER
We had a great run of shows at Toad June/July. Now we are looking forward to trying to keep it going at another venue starting at the end of the summer. I will let you know when we have it al together. In the meantime, good friends Dan and Camille recorded some of the shows and linked them at their Kitchen Door web site:
Chris Toppin could not make it to last week's show. And my old buddies (of which she is one) in the erstwhile Bathing Beauties, A.K.A Show People, will not be making it to this week's show. It will be more of the Crown Vic with Billy beard on drums. We will play more songs. Last week rocked, in my opinion. We will always miss Tom Polce until his return from Hollywood Babylon. But Mr. Beard is another superb drummer. We will maybe do 3 sets, one more acoustic than the others. We play a lot of old classic rock and soul songs so all you dads should come on down as a reward to yourself. We are like Taylor Hicks. You like him, right? Soul Patrol?
Also, JUNE 27 at 8: I will be playing a set of tunes before the screening of the locally made film that I composed the score for, On Broadway at the Regent Theater in Arlington Center and hanging out afterwards for a Q&A with the director, Dave McLaughlin and producer/actor, Lance Green (and maybe some others). It will be the final big screen screening around here.
Here is one of the pieces from the film:
I leave you with a song from Aretha and the choir:
Celts are on tonight, yes, I know, but I thought that some of you might be into coming down to Toad, a fine pub in Porter Sq. to hear some music any of the next 4 Thursday nights, starting tonight. I will be leading/hosting a few different combos of talented musicians beginning around 9 and going late, with multiple sets of cover tunes, new and old original tunes, ill-advised improvisations, beer-sodden spoke-word ramblings (if this happens, I advise you that it will be time to go).
Tonight, I am pleased to have what will surely be the bedrock band of Billy Beard, Phil Aiken, and Matt Taheny -- joined by the opening duo of Jim Buni and Chris Toppin, who will hopefully be sticking around and joining us for many songs.
Next week, June 19, we will have most of the above group as well as a resurrected band I was fortunate to be part of, the Bathing Beauties (which morphed into a duo called the Show People). This will have Phil, Top and I, joined by Paul Kolderie and Dean Fisher.
June 26 looks to be pretty much the same as tonight, though we might have other guests joining us.
July 3 is too far in the future to ponder. But we hope you will make the leap of faith necessary and choose to remain in town for the 4th of July holiday, if for no other reason than to be part of The Magic that will surely happen on this final night. Actually, some of you are old enough to remember this same sort of Toad hootenanny 2 years ago that culminated in a late-night appearance by a True Rock Star (who does not supplement his income with a real estate gig) leading the band through a 20-minute version of Neil Young & Crazy Horse's "Cortez the Killer." I can't make any promises of such fabulousness coming down Mass. Ave. tonight, nor should you require any such promise, but like the Mass. Lottery points out, you can't win if you don't play.
I have little doubt that this will prove to be one of the most memorable things I read in 2008. From Nick Flynn, the writer with whom Buffalo Tom collaborated on the song, "Father Outside (Ink Falling)."
I'd love to hear reaction. In fact, I would love to see any note from folks to see if anyone is checking in here apart from mentions in my email newsletter. A blog no one reads is like a town with no cheer, or a tree falling in the forest, or as Nick might say, "the falling is the tree."
Nice to see some of you out there in D.C. and N.Y. Hope to see more of you next weekend.
sorry, again. i am an apologetic sob, ain't i? i just have been lax in updates. i had such great intentions when i started my music blog (http://www.billjanovitz.blogspot.com/). actually, i see that it was updated in december. that ain't too bad, is it? anyway, i can't see too many people hanging on every word anyway.
i wish i could say it is because i am busy. but i have been less busy than i was all 2007, i think. but american idol started last week. plus someone sent me an invitation to join this facebook that i have heard so much about, from all the kids and such. but i see that it has hit some tipping point (btw, that's the title of a great book by malcom gladwell) and more modern maturity folks like me have signed up. it is actually the most useful of all the "social networking" sites i have found. i never quite latched on to myspace too much. and linked-in has some professional uses, i suppose. no one has made them apparent to me yet, but i'm willing to suspend my disbelief for now.
but with facebook, one can post the music, vids, little logos that allow you to dupe yourself into feeling like you are politically, environmentally, or gastonomically aware, etc. but the event announcements thing, in fact the whole interface seems very user-friendly. so that's where i have most recently posted upcoming bt shows that i hope many of you will attend. kevin will continue to update the bill and bt sites, but they are so web 1 or possibly 2.0 and this band is, like, very web 3.2.
i see that the shows are selling well, so i hope to see some of you out there on the cold and lonely plains. and there is a buff tom listeners group or something like that, which of course i had to join even though i don't listen to them (only like the early stuff) when i can avoid it. of course, we will have to listen to each other prattling on (this means you, tom) for an 8-hour ride in a van to dc this friday. so we have that going for us. how much would you pay for a podcast of that. have any of you heard the troggs tape? something like that.
the downside of facebook, and perhaps the real reason for my laxity in updates and other such things such as bathing and acknowledging the existence of my children is that it has this texas holdem poker app. which has ruined me. mind you, i have achieved "big dog" status in a mere couple of weeks and am ever so close to attaining the ultimate status of "shark." however, these achievements don't seem to resonate with my wife, who has never really encouraged my aspirations and dreams and so i don't expect her to all of a sudden wake up and bow down at the feet of a facebook-poker-recognized "big dog" now, january 22, 2008. further, she doesn't even seem enthusiastic when i finally win a few hands and come out on the positive side of my bi-weekly poker group in my favorite contractor's shop (which seems like a setting out of a tarantino bloodbath but is nothing of the sort in real life). so again why would i expect her to wake up lucid one morning and thank me for my visionary foresight?
so i recommend you sign up for the f-book as well so you can waste more of your time.
but as usual, i digress:
buffalo tom January 25 night time black cat washington dc.
january 26 joe's pub 2 shows -- both night time, one earlier than the other in the shadow of the astor place kmart near/once home of the scrappy yet sadly soon-to-be defeated new jersey giants new york, ny
february 1 first avenue home to prince and husker du and grant hart and the replacements and that city that gave birth to the mighty hold steady men minneapolis, mn because, really, when you think about it, why go play some place warm in february? we want to keep our pale - broken-only-by-our-patches-of-psoriasis-because-we-are-so-dried-out-by-the-boston-winters - glow. let's pick someplace more miserable than boston in the winter. yes, minn. will do. but how about tomorrow? shall we go to hawaii then?
no.
february 2 double door one of my favorite cities in the world chicago, we-be-illinois
i be illin' so you keep chillin' and like lowell george be willin' and in facebook poker i make a killin',
A bunch of us were singing at the piano bar at Frank's Steakhouse in North Cambridge years ago. It's a legendary joint in the part of Cambridge that becomes pretty suburban and Irish. The last vestiges of Tip O'Neil-land and times still hang on, Frank's being one of them.
Amidst the regulars scuffling up to sing "Danny Boy" and "The Unicorn" and "Somewhere Over the Rainbow," were sometimes Chris Toppin, Hilken Mancini, Winston Braman, a bunch of other people who came but would not sing, and me.
The piano player, a rather flamboyant chap, would look at us askance, trying to figure out if we were there on a goof, or subsequent times, if we were the people who he remembered being there before, the scraggly bunch who actually could sing and knew the words to some classic old tunes. We were.
He once asked on the microphone, "who are you people? Are you show people? You must be show people!"
When our side project, the Bathing Beauties, finally gave up trying to be a real band, Top and I decided to soldier on and finish the songs and recordings we had started sporadically in fits and starts over the better part of 10 years. That project needed a name. Show People. It is all recorded, mixed, and NOW MASTERED. So if you downloaded it before, it now sounds better on disc. I think Kevin will upload it at billjanovitz.com. If you need a new version, I am sure. But you can go get it at CDBaby. I want to send it out to some college stations, but I'm sure it will take my sorry ass a while to do so. But if you are involved in such an endeavor and would like to request one, send an email to janovitz.bill@gmail.com or post here. Eric Masunaga mastered it and made it sound infinitely better, great, in fact.
