Steve Albini

Steve Albini is a fellow I’ve never met, but I’ve followed his work from his time in the 80s, playing in Big Black. My initial interest in Big Black came from the involvement of Steve’s band-mate, Santiago Durango, who had previously been in the Chicago punk band, Naked Raygun. This is where Steve first came on my radar. Then in the late 80s I would hear of a band out of Boston being produced by Big Black’s Steve Albini— When I first heard Surfer Rosa, I instantly became a fan of The Pixies. Steve was no longer just that other guy in Big Black. Subsequently Steve went on to record Nirvana’s In Utero, and other legendary rock albums (though his album credit is often listed as “Producer”, Albini prefers the title, “Engineer”).

In the early 90s, Steve Albini made another great contribution to the lives of musicians— in a 1993 article in The Baffler, in the plainest terms, Albini showed how musicians get screwed by major labels. He didn’t do this with the usual emotionally charged rant, but by the numbers, showing where the money goes in a standard label contract. This article was later reprinted in Maximum Rock-N-Roll, issue #133, and is now widely distributed across the internet.

Several years ago I was pleased to stumble across a lecture by Steve Albini on the website of Middle Tennessee State University. At the time, I downloaded the movie file to my computer, in the event the video was ever removed. No great surprise, it was in fact taken down. The video is an hour and a half long, and I would speculate that it may have been removed due to the bandwidth demands its popularity placed on the University’s servers. Whatever the reason, as a service to other musicians and recording engineers who may benefit from Steve’s insight, or indy music aficionados who have an interest, I have now uploaded the video to Viddler, and it can be viewed above.

Today Steve Albini is the owner of the Chicago recording studio, Electrical Audio. His services are available as a Recording Engineer at a flat day rate (he currently charges $650). He refuses to accept royalties on the albums he records. Ever opinionated, he continues to be an outspoken advocate for musicians, and continues to earn my respect.

I Don't Know Jack

The White Stripes, July 24th, Live at Madison Square Garden


Poster art by Rob Jones, disco ball photo by muzikspy, Jack and Meg photo by Randsom.

I don’t know Jack White, but he sure seems like a swell guy to me. After the closing song, Jack and Meg held hands for a bow. Then, in a plainspoken manner he thanked us, “Go bless you. Thank you so much for buying our records. Thank you for buying a ticket to our show. That means a lot to us. You’ve been nice to us New York. Thanks for making this a good night.” I’ve been to a lot of concerts. I think that was the most humble and sincere, “thank you,” I’ve ever heard from a performer.

This was the first Madison Square Garden performance for The White Stripe. They had two opening acts. Both performers who had been around much longer than the Stripes, neither of whom had ever played the garden before either. It was as if Jack said, “Grab a coattail everybody, we’re going to play the Garden!”

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First onstage was country music legend, Porter Wagoner, supported by a band of Nashville topliners led by guitarist Marty Stuart. Introduced simply as a band of “hillbillies”, Marty first took them through an instrumental jam to work up the crowd. Then Porter Wagoner made his entrance in a fabulous powder blue sequined & rhinestoned suit. It was as if the Grand Ole Opry had arrived in New York City. The Country Music Hall of Fame inductee and former paramour to Dolly Parton, took the stage at Madison Square Garden for the first time, approaching his 80th birthday. He gave a heartfelt expression of gratitude to Jack White for affording him the opportunity to perform at the famed New York colosseum. It brought to mind Jack White’s 2005 Grammy appearance with Loretta Lynn.

This music was likely foreign to a large number of the youthful crowd of Yankees in attendance. I was pleased to see that most of the crowd was respectful and receptive, with hearty applause between each number. Porter’s set included some of his own classic numbers like The Rubber Room and The Cold Hard Facts of Life, as well as the country standard, Green, Green Grass of Home. Most of the set was made of new material from his recent album, Wagonmaster. He closed with, I’ve Enjoyed as Much of This as I Can Stand.

Wagoner’s career revival has largely been driven by Marty, who produced Wagonmaster. The recording was put out on ANTI records (known for such recording artists as Tom Waits, Neko Case and Nick Cave) after the Nashville labels refused to release it. As a former member of Johnny Cash’s band, Marty is no stranger to being snubbed by the coutry music establishment.

I have a Porter Wagoner Grammy prediction— Best Country Album, 2007.

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The undefinable Australian art-house blues/goth storyteller, Nick Cave and his latest creative vehicle, Grinderman, took to the stage next. Grinderman is a smaller group within a group, consisting of a few regular members from Nick Cave’s larger ensemble, The Bad Seeds, with the still notable absence of former guitarist and co-producer Blixa Bargeld (also of Einstürzende Neubauten). Having been a Bad Seeds fan for many years, I was almost as enthusiastic to see Nick Cave open as I was to see the Stripes… almost. The Grinderman material is a departure from the more poetic Bad Seeds work, and more reminiscent of Cave’s early 80s material with post-punk noise band, The Birthday Party. With only one Grinderman release, and all members also part of the Bad Seeds, I was not sure if they would stick to an exclusively Grinderman set, or include numbers from the larger Bad Seeds’ songbook. As it turned out, no Bad Seeds material was included.

Candidly, I thought Nick looked unsure of himself when he took the stage. He had never played guitar before, and learned the instrument for this album. He appeared to be trashed. During the second number he fell down on his butt on stage. When the song was over, sounding genuinely embarrassed, he told the audience that he could now tell his children how he fell on his ass at Madison Square Garden. I was in a very low loge seat with binoculars, and could make out some of his facial expressions. There were times when he looked like he was dying up there. He had a music-stand beside him with notes, and I assume lyrics, that he had to keep referring to.

He momentarily recovered during the third number, Depth Charge Ethel, when a group of fans singing along caught his attention at stage left. He focused on that little crowd, and it seemed to reinvigorate him.

The sound quality of their set was completely horrible, but sounded as much like a mixing board issue as a matter of performance (though they were certainly sloppy).

Here is how I size up their performance— Cave is playing Madison Square Garden for the first time in his career, and with decades of songs behind him, he only has one album’s worth of Grinderman material to carry him through the Garden debut. Additionally, this was the first show of the North American tour— They were not yet toured-hardened on these new songs.

For their closing number, they performed No Pussy Blues. After the instrumental break, Cave was frantically riffling through all the papers on his music-stand, looking almost in a panic. Just before he had to go into verse, all the papers fell all over the floor, loose leaf, scattering everywhere. It was difficult to tell if he dropped them accidentally or tossed them when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. Clearly he was looking for his lyrics, as he then left out a verse.

In spite of everything, Cave was a trooper. He seemed painfully aware that the performance was not going well, but he slugged it through. The band gave it their best to turn things around with each song, but never seemed to find their groove. I don’t know if Nick was actually trashed, but falling on his ass right up front appeared to knock his performance off balance for the rest of the night. Having seen Cave perform live in the past, I know him to be an exceptionally talented live performer.

The very next night, Grinderman headlined a show in Chicago, and smartly added a long list of classic Bad Seeds songs to the playlist. The New York Show seemed to have taught them a lesson, and the Chicago show received rave reviews.

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The set was then perpared for our beloved headliners, The White Stripes. When I saw the first stagehand step to the stage and begin setting up gear, I reached for my bonoculars thinking it to be Jack— a fellow about his build in a black suit and tie wearing a fedora. As I took a closer look and realized it was not Jack, I saw other stagehands, all wearing the same matching black suites and fedoras. Not your typical rodies in ripped jeans and faded concert shirts here. How swank. Soon half the stage was filled with them, testing mikes, positioning amps, tuning guitars, setting up Meg’s kit.

Now six albums into their career, the Stripes have a formidable back catalog to choose from, plus covers. I only hoped for one song, Dead Leave and the Dirty Ground, and I would be happy (actually, I’m sure I would have been happy anyway). When they took the stage, it was their opening song. I knew this was going to be a great show.

Against a minimal stage, with a large red backdrop, either side was flanked with a staircase to a raised platform… that Jack transversed just once, never to cross again. With floor lights at their feet, most of the show saw Meg and Jack’s shadows cast tall against the red backdrop. Their only special effect was a huge disco ball. Even this they would only incorporate sparingly during two numbers (I’m Slowly Turning Into You and later Blue Orchid during the encore), but to excellent effect. The ball was positioned high enough, and with no other stage obstructions, filled the whole of the Garden with spinning red and white dots of light. With low overhead like that, their margins on this gig must have been sweet… but I digress.

For most of the set, Jack played the red Montgomery Airline he bought off of Jack Yarber, back in his Oblivian days.

With Meg manning (womanning?) the drums, I suspected they wouldn’t attempt the duet, Rag & Bone. A shame, but it was expected. Meg did, however, get her moment at the microphone. “For her lead vocal debut at Madison Square Garden,” Jack said as Meg approached the microphone to sing, In the Cold, Cold Night. For her one vocal number Jack gave her center stage, playing his guitar off in a shadow to the side, with his back to the audience.

I’m a sucker for bands that can cover a great song and make it their own. In this regards, the White Stripes are in league with The Nomads and fellow motor-city rockers, The Detroit Cobras. While not the first man to belt-out a cover of Dolly Parton’s Jolene, Jack somehow manages a more sincere, less tongue-in-cheek rendition. Burt Bacharach’s I Just Don’t Know What to Do With Myself (most famous for the 1964 Dusty Springfield recording) is given the White Stripes treatment. A personal highlight for me was Jack’s take on an obscure pre-war blues number called John The Revelator (included on the White Stripes’ self titled debut under the name, Cannon). The earliest known recording (1930) was performed for Columbia Records by Dallas Preacher and Blues musician, Blind Willie Johnson. Hearing Jack pull this one out of his hat was right up there with hearing Clapton cover Robert Johnson’s Me And The Devil Blues, almost on par with hearing Bowie cover Frank Black’s Cactus (both at this same venue, come to think of it).

Returning for their 35 minute encore, the disco ball was back out for Blue Orchid and they blew the doors off the joint. The full White Stripes set was just minutes shy of two hours.

I feel lucky to have had the opportunity to be at this show.

THE WHITE STRIPES SETLIST:
Dead Leaves and The Dirty Ground
When I Hear My Name
Jolene
Hotel Yorba
Cannon (John The Revelator)
Icky Thump
Do
Death Letter
In The Cold, Cold Night
Martyr For My Love For You
I’m Slowly Turning Into You
I Think I Smell A Rat
Wasting My Time
300 MPH Torrential Outpour Blues
You Don’t Know What Love Is (You Just Do As You’re Told)
Fell In Love With A Girl
Ball And Biscuit

Encore:
Blue Orchid
I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself
Little Ghost
We’re Going To Be Friends
Little Bird
Catch Hell Blues
My Doorbell
Seven Nation Army
Boll Weevil

DOWNLOAD MUSIC FILES OF THIS CONCERT:
nyctaper

SEE PHOTOGRAPHS FROM THIS CONCERT:
pixxiestails | Randsom | central village | elcunzio1 | LRobin | muzikspy | wallyg

Tim Kaiser's gonkulations

Tim Kaiser makes custom audio components, of a sort, crafted with a vintage look. In a deliberate act of over-engineering, Tim crafts elaborate devices, usually musical effects modules, and righteously gonkulated noisemakers. Go to his website to learn more.

Velvet Underground– Booked

Ok, so I missed the opportunity to write about this opening beforehand, as to announce it. Then, after attending, I missed the opportunity to write about it the following day to review it. The week prior, my friend Paddy Johnson invited me to John McWhinnie @ Glenn Horowitz Bookseller, for an exhibition of vintage Velvet Underground posters and memorabilia, commemorating the 40th anniversary of their hugely influential, The Velvet Underground & Nico, an event he helped organize. I was not aware, however, until the day before the show’s opening when my friend James Massenburg followed up with me to see if I would be attending. I hinge my excuse for finally writing about it at this late date on the fact that Paddy’s email finally arrived, about two weeks after he sent it.

I tried to coax my friend Al Risi into joining, but he had a “hot date” (I’m trying to embarrass him… and learn whether he ever reads this). When I joined James and Paddy, I was informed that I had just missed John Waters, which marks the second time in as many months (prior was a book signing with aforementioned, Al).

A musician billed as “Dutch orchestral pop legend, Bauer,” accompanied only by his own keyboard playing, was doing lounge act renditions of Velvet Underground covers in a small room on the second floor. It was kitsch, and tacky, and Andy would have approved. The highlight for me was an original copy of Jim Franklin’s 1969 poster for the V.U. at Vulcan Gas Company, in Austin, TX. A poster I’ve admired since my youth, it was nice to see the actual artifact. Misc photographs, posters and other V.U. and Andy Warhol related ephemera filled the two story establishment- part rare bookstore/part art-space.

Pretty people mingled with musician/artist-types, many of whom I’m sure I was suppose to recognize, due to the flashbulbs snapping… but I’m just not that hip. Paddy was too busy to do much socializing, but he looked very dapper, so I forgive him… he was, after all, at work. When James and I made our way back downstairs, Mo Tucker was standing alone, nearby, looking like she was waiting for a late date. Shortly thereafter, Lou Reed showed up, walked straight over to Mo, and gave her a big hug. She was glowing. They chatted it up privately for a few moments, but it wasn’t long before the “it” crowd realized that the man of the moment had arrived. Suddenly the room was packed with gawkers and flashbulbs. We decided that was our cue to depart (we left somewhat abruptly, and I forgot to get a catalog, so now I have an excuse to go back).

The Velvet Underground exhibit at John McWhinnie @ Glenn Horowitz Bookseller runs until May 12. The bookstore gallery is located at 50 1/2 East 64th Street, in Manhattan, New York City.

Reunion?

Though no final announcement has been made, the former members of The Police— Sting, Stewart Copeland and Andy Summers, are said to be in talks for a 30th Anniversary Tour.

This was first reported in the UK’s Daily Mirror.

With the contentious relationship between former band mates, Sting and Stewart Copeland, for decades a Police reunion had not been considered likely. After Copeland’s Everyone Stares, a documentary about his time with the Police, received praise at the Sundance Film Festival, rumors began to circulate that the former band mates had begun to patch things up. Sting and Andy were both said to have given their approval of the documentary.

Details are still up in the air, and range from a one off show, to a major world tour.

The Mooney Suzuki - On TV

The Mooney Suzuki will be performing their title track, Alive & Amplified this Saturday night at 1:00 am, December 30th, on FOX Channel 5 on New York City’s Fearless Music. If you are not in the city, click here to check for listings in other areas.

If you’re not familiar with The Mooney Suzuki, you’ve probably heard the song, Alive & Amplified, appropriately enough, in the Suzuki Grand Vitara “Base Jump” TV Spot.

EDIT: Ryan Barkan of Primary Wave Music has posted photos of The Mooney Suzuki from the private birthday party of our mutual friend Al Risi at The Cutting Room on his music photography blog, Fresh Bread.