Sephy’s Platzish

I’ve discussed the music I like to listen to; there’s a list of the posts that I’ve done in the occasional Friday Music series at the bottom of the post. In the post about Duke’s 3 Suites, Forest talked about his being a child of the 90s and how he came up with his own music.

I replied to his comment, in part, with a story of my musical background -

Believe it or not, I was brought up with, first, 60s music, and then country music when it was popular in the last decade (I actually have almost the whole Garth Brooks CD collection, and a first edition of his “Double Live” album). It wasn’t until I was in high school that I started to listen to jazz. When I was in college, I started to discover some of the bigger indie groups like The Killers. Now, and I have to give props to Snoskred for this one, I’m beginning to get my footing in rock music and actually listening to Metallica and liking it.

It is true - when I was young, the most common station that we would listen to in the car would be the oldies station (in fact, that same station, now owned by conglomerate Clear Channel, still plays older music, though they’ve expanded into the 70s and 80s, and will be going into all-Christmas mode soon). There could be no end to the argument when my Aunt would come up from Chicago and switch the radio to a radio station that is renowned for playing a particular style of music.

Then, sometime in the early 90s, we switched from that station to listening to one of the two country music stations in the area. In fact, I still remember on one of our long car trips that we used to take back then when it seemed every country station between here and Huntsville played the same song over and over again. It got to a point where we wound up, somewhere in the middle of Illinois or Kentucky, turning on a hard rock station just to avoid listening to this song.

Now, of course, being someone who remembers small details like this, I remember that the lyrics contained the words “thank the bank for the money and thank god for you”. Thanks to Scroogle, I now am reminded of the name of that song - “Thank God For You” by Sawyer Brown. Of course, there was a video of the proper version of the song on YouTube, but as with anything decent, it’s been taken down due to copyright violations. However, I think that this karaoke imitation is suitably funny to act as a stand-in.
Click here to watch (you may have noticed that I had embedded the video here before, but apparently you can’t display unembedable videos anyway…

You would think that this would have been the end of us listening to country music, but that was definitely not the case. We would stick with country for quite a few more years, even attending a Garth Brooks concert when he was at the peak of his fame (and, get this, the tickets only cost $17.50 each - and that was for a seat in the lower tear of the arena; all tickets were the same price - there was a line that went around the store because of the demand). As I had mentioned in the comment, I do have almost all of his CDs - the only real exceptions being the recently released box set, the original editions of his first six albums and the CD that he put out as the fake rockstar.

Then, an interesting thing happened - I got into High School and started to get involved in listening to jazz and a lot of classical music. It didn’t hurt the cause that for one year, I had to get to know a whole lot of operatic works back and forth, along with the stories of the operas that the songs came from. The next year, we had to know a whole bunch of jazz, along with the stories of the artists who did the songs, and the other year I participated in this particular activity, we had to do “world music” - something which I do not remember anything about, honestly.

It was also during this time that I really separated from most of the popular music (though realistically, I never had that much connection to it). Thanks to the Internet, I don’t think I really missed out all that much with music - especially since I had the opportunity to, ahem, acquire the music I’d missed out on on the net.

The next major milestone in my musical development would have to be when I was in college. Sure, I was aware of the major file sharing networks of the day (Kazaa Lite anyone?), but for the most part I was still searching for older music and jazz, along with a variety of country and some songs that, when I go back through the CDs I burnt of those songs, make me wonder why in the world I ever downloaded those songs.

In 2002, after I had come back from going home in February, I was watching the Olympics from Salt Lake City, and there was a concert on the TV by the Barenaked Ladies. Amazingly, for some reason, the music clicked with me - it was good and it was fun music to listen to. It was through them that I started to get some connection with popular music, though I still didn’t totally follow the ups and downs of current music.

Then, after I left college, I started to listen to another of my local stations - one which has gone downhill quite a bit after their longtime morning team have split apart and the station decided to bring in outsiders to front their main program in the morning. Then, I was starting to listen to actual music that was, at least that I thought was, the music of “now”. There were the occasional gimmick hours - 80s played at 1 and 8 pm, and Fridays would be dedicated to the Flashback music. I liked listening to that music.

However, the biggest revolution to my listening habits has come as a result of meeting Snoskred - I’m sure she’ll say something in the comments about this, but I was really the most clueless sod when it came to musical references (and quite a lot of other references, but that’s for another day ). However, she introduced me to some of the greatest music I’d ever heard of, and I’ve even gone and discovered music on my own.

Most of the time, I am playing music from the same playlist - it’s been through a lot of different iterations (and in fact, I have a song that I need to add to it - Trees). You can check out my current Winamp playlist . Yes, it is true that I have Madonna in there, but really, that particular album is great “club” music - I would have never seen myself liking that type of music, but sometimes it’s cool to have a driving bass beat going along on the subwoofer.

If you want to keep up with what I’m listening to, you can always check out my last.fm profile and add me as a friend if you want

The Friday Music Series

• The Best Albums you’ve Probably not Heard
• Another great album you’ve likely not heard of…
• Friday Music: Lloyd Cole Knew My Father
• Friday Music - Duke Ellington’s 3 Suites
• Friday Music: The Laws of Searching

About the title

The title is a line from a Badly Drawn Boy song - “You Were Right”; the video of it is below.

This post is part of the Hump Day Hmm - which, this week was about music - the music of our lives, really, the soundtrack of our life. For me, this is it, and it’s still very much in formation

Have you ever heard the old rule about searching - “You’ll find it when you stop looking for it?” To me, that is the one law that is true about finding things (though something about it not being where you think it is also applies at times).

This post has its roots in last week’s Friday music post. As I was searching for the jewel case to the album (because I had seen it not too long ago, but kind of forgot where I had seen it), I went into a box where I knew I had put some CDs in a long time ago. All that I had remembered about this particular box was that it had this bunch of CDs in it, mostly because I wasn’t using them frequently and it was a good place to store them.

Basically, there are layers of jewel cases in there, some slimline cases which old discs I’ve burnt such as the recovery discs for my computer and archived emails from years ago, along with archives of my photos from both the Sony and the Minolta digital camera. On the bottom layer, there are other burnt discs, along with various program discs and a whole bunch of music CDs.

As I was going through this stack of discs, I started finding things that I knew I had but the whereabouts of which I had totally lost track of. Among those discs was one that I got as a Christmas present from my brother. That disc is probably one of the most niche CDs you’ll ever find in a person’s collection. What is it, you ask? Classic TV Game Show Themes, on the Varese Sarabande label. As I write this, I’m listening to it for maybe the second time since I got it in 2000, and I have to say that some of the themes are really good (particularly the original Jeopardy! theme with the sax riff in it), while others are downright strange (Tic Tac Dough and The Wizard of Odds come to mind). This is definitely an album that you wouldn’t want to listen to every day.

Two of the discs are ones that I picked up when I was on my trip to Washington DC and we visited the (as it is known now”) Fashion Centre at Pentagon City (in the picture, you can see the Washington Post Store where I purchased an umbrella from). This was at the same time that the Ken Burns Jazz series was running so you saw the albums available in music stores, and I happened to pick up two of the albums at the Sam Goody there - Charles Mingus (which has a couple of really good track names - including “Eat that Chicken” and “The Shoes of the Fisherman’s Wife are some Jive Ass Slippers”) and Miles Davis. There’s a whole series of discs featuring a kind of best hits album for 22 musicians, along with a five-disc set that covers the history of jazz.

The next discs were ones that I got as freebies from one of my teachers in high school as rewards for work well done in an extracurricular activity (Academic Decathlon). The first, now that I think about it, wasn’t part of this pile. It’s a Louis Armstrong disc, the name of which now escapes me. The other is Count Basie’s classic April in Paris. The case for this is unique in that it’s not an all-plastic case, but made of a material that’s similar to cardboard (it probably is that, but there’s nothing saying what material in particular it is). Like most reissues, this has some extra tracks (7, including two versions of “Magic”).

Two more discs were ones that I purchased on that fateful trip to the Jazz Record Shop at 444 N Wabash in Chicago. However, these two albums certainly have not has as much playing time as the other disc I bought there. One is a Dizzy Gillespie disc simply called Night in Tunisia, with the shortest track being 3 minutes, but the average length is closer to ten. However, there is no information in either the liner notes or on the case itself that clues me in on more information on the recordings. The other disc of this set is a compilation set of Louis Armstrong recordings - “The 25 Greatest Hot 5s and Hot 7s”. These songs were recorded between 1926 and 1928, and unlike the Dizzy album, there is very detailed information about the exact makeup of each grouping of musicians for every set of tracks. The most interesting thing is that this album is actually an import - it was made and printed by ASV Ltd. London W14.

Also in the stack were two discs from a box set of Louis Armstrong discs. I have the cases, but the discs aren’t there - “Please Don’t Talk About Me When I’m Gone” and “When The Saints Go Marchin’ In”. These are from the same album manufacturer who produced the Night In Tunisia disc, and again the information is pretty sparse, though on the Saints disc, it does mention being recorded in 1968. I guess we can have the odd miracle, no?

It is here that I must disclose something - I’m apparently a fan of Miles Davis. He’s the artist I have the most albums of, though I don’t recall ever listening to much of the music on those albums. Aside from the Ken Burns Jazz best-of compilation, I also have Birth of the Cool, Kind of Blue, his All-Stars live in 1958-59, featuring John Coltrane, and (this wasn’t in the box, but I know I have it), the complete Decca recordings. I suspect that the reason that I got these albums is that there was this girl who, although she was taken already, I fancied and she mentioned that she really liked some of Miles’ music. However, that whole story is one for another time I think.

Before I get to the last CD, there are some that I put back into the box - including a Time Life collection called “Sax by Candlelight” and some Christmas albums, one of which featured Elvis’ Christmas songs.

Ah, the last CD….you’ll likely remember the craze over a song called “Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen”. It’s based on a commencement speech, apparently given by Kurt Vonnegut to graduates at MIT. It was then picked up by the Chicago Tribune and published here. However, there are other tracks on this disc from two movies that, at the time I hadn’t seen (and if I had actually checked out the album, one that I hadn’t ever heard of at the time we got this album). The films? Strictly Ballroom and Romeo + Juliet. Two films which I have now seen, I might add.

The album is Something For Everybody, a set of remixed tracks which were featured in Baz Luhrmann’s theatre and film productions through 1996. There’s even a track that was used in the work he did for the TV launch of the Labor party’s campaign for the 1993 elections (track 17, Jupiter (edit) [From The Planets], written by Holst).

Just to close the book on the hunt for the jewel case to 3 Suites. I did find it - it was in my desk on the lower shelf which itself is full of other CDs and DVDs that need some going through. How else would you have expected me to get a picture of the cover to post on here?

I’m just wondering if something similar has happened to you in the past, and have you found CDs that when you got them, it was only for one song, but in the future found out that it had songs from something you’d been exposed to between the time of getting the album and the time of its rediscovery?

This week’s album in the spotlight is one of those albums where I had heard some of the music on it and knew that I had to have it. If you’ve been following along with my series of favorite albums, you’ll know that I’ve gleaned a bit of my musical knowledge from my time in my school’s Jazz Ensembles. Thus it will not come as any surprise that my origins with Duke Ellington’s Three Suites are listening sessions in the band room.

It was in one of these sessions that an interesting version of Tchaikovsky’s famous Nutcracker Suite was played, having been re-arranged by Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn, played by Duke’s orchestra. While there are, as the title suggests, three suites on the album, the one that, at least for me, always sticks in my mind is the Nutcracker. That isn’t to say that the other two suites - the Peer Gynt Suite and an original suite called “Suite Thursday” aren’t worth listening to, it is just that the familiarity most of us have with the Nutcracker Suite will lend itself to being stuck in your mind.

When you first put the album in and hit play, you’re treated to the Nutcracker’s Overture; it is a great way to introduce the concept of the album and slowly transition from the “traditional” style of Tchaikovsky into a jazz style, fully taking you into swing by time you’re halfway through the track. Next is the “Dance of the Reed-Pipes”, retitled “Toot Toot Tootie Toot”; again, it’s performed beautifully in the swing style.

The same can be said about the whole album, but for me, the next couple of tracks are definitely my favorites on the album. The first is “Peanut Brittle Brigade (March)” - this has everything from driving sounds, to ranges all over the map - from the lowest of lows with the baritone sax to the trumpets stretching their chops as far as possible. It is truly amazing, if you ask me.

However, the greatness doesn’t stop there. The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy then comes on, as Sugar Rum Cherry. Quite honestly, this is the track that made me fall in love with this album. It departs very slightly from the theme of the album while, and this is something true about these suites, maintaining the original sound that you are familiar with. This is another of those tracks that, for me, lets me go deep into my mind and relax for a few moments.

The next track, Entr’acte, can quickly lull you out of the relaxation and get you moving around as it is a fast-flowing piece of music that you will have a hard time if you don’t start to move to the beat even a little bit. At its heart is a bit of retrospective on what you’ve already heard, but with yet another different take. We then move to the Russian and Chinese Dances (Volga Volty and Chinoiserie respectively), again keeping the essence of the music, but adding the jazz spirit to it. Of special note is the section in Chinoiserie where the clarinet and sax trade staccato notes in the middle and at the end of the piece; it is a great piece of coordination which should be recognized.

Up next is the Waltz of the Flowers, represented as Danse of the Floreadores. What Ellington & Strayhorn did here was take the piece and turn it into something that, if it hadn’t been done originally by Tchaikovsky, might confuse you for being something that possibly Count Basie or some of his contemporaries would have thought up on their own. The last piece from the Nutcracker Suite is Arabesque Cookie (Arabic Dance). According to the liner notes, Paul Gonsalves took lessons on the bamboo flute so that he could play it for this track especially. He leads it off with what might be thought of as a quite exotic sound, yet one which is completely agreeable with the ears.

From here we move into the Peer Gynt Suite, No. 1 & 2. Even if you have not heard of this particular suite in the past, you will recognize at least a couple of the tracks from it. The first one is “Morning Mood”, which has the flowing sounds you might hear in the background of “rise and shine” on a random TV station (not to say that I’ve actually heard it, but that it would definitely fit). The other track that should be recognizable is In the Hall of the Mountain King - even if it isn’t completely recognized, it might wind up jogging your memory, or just get you moving again.

Really, for me, I’m not totally familiar with the rest of the album, as I tend to get caught in the Nutcracker Suite and lose myself, or I’ll listen to one of the Peer Gynt pieces - Anitra’s Death.

It just so happens that I had played the song for the jazz ensemble when it was part of the Essentially Ellington program a few years ago. Although it was a challenge to play (considering that it started with a 3-count followed immediately by a staccato note), I’ve always liked playing and listening to the track.

Why you should listen to it
If you’re a fan of classical music, you will greatly appreciate how Duke sticks to the soul of the music, making sure that the original statements are made, just in a different way. If you’re a jazz fan, then why haven’t you listened to this album already? It’s one that you should

If you’re a fan of “Oh, I like a little bit of everything, really” (and that’s definitely OK - to be honest, I’ve gotten to become that way over the last couple of years thanks to the deepening of the array of music I’ve been exposed to), then you definitely listen to at least the Nutcracker tracks and if you like those, try out the rest.

Over to you
I know I asked this question of y’all a couple of weeks ago, but what is an album that is on the must-listen list on your iPod, Winamp, or CD player? What is it about that particular album that makes you want to listen to it again and again and again?

Last week, I promised that I wouldn’t discuss an album this week, but rather a show about music. This is a show that I would not have ever heard of if it was not for the power of the Internet.

I first found “Lloyd Cole Knew My Father” in the binaries section of Usenet not long after getting broadband at home in 2003. Before I talk about the actual show, a little bit about the state of radio programming.

Most folks my age in the US are not familiar with the genre of proper radio comedy. That type of radio went away here in the US around the time that TV started to take over from radio in terms of attention received from the public. Now, most of our radio is focused on maintaining a good rating in the latest Arbitron statistics, and making money from advertisers - mostly to stay afloat.

This has led, of course, to most AM stations relying upon a cadre of talk (or if you an Aussie, talkback) shows which, for the most part, cater to an audience to the right side of the political spectrum. I have no problem with this personally, as I like to listen to the local talkers in my area, but the national shows aren’t much to my taste anymore.

In fact, if you were to go through the AM dial at night, when all the clear channel (not to be confused with the company) stations are broadcasting at full strength, and the local candles are out for the night, this is a general representation of what you’ll find:

- many stations carrying the Art Bell show (or whomever is hosting it nowadays)
- re-airs of talk shows which had aired earlier that day
- “trucker” shows
- all-news stations giving you the news that you’ve heard ten times already and traffic and weather for someplace hundreds of miles away
- foreign language stations, generally French or Spanish
- sports talk
- the rare live local talk show, featuring either a dyed-in-the-wool veteran or a complete neophyte to the radio
- music - from country to Frank Sinatra to 60s music to current music on Radio Disney
- a few preachers condemning you to Hell for listening to said music

On the FM side, apart from public broadcasters (which are allocated 88-91 MHz) you’ll generally hear a variety of music, from modern country, to hard rock, to the all easy-listening music featuring a song about a monkey that cried.

Certainly, you could say almost the same thing about the state of radio in other countries like the UK, however there is a key difference. There, you have a major public broadcaster which is ingrained in the lives of the people of that country from the beginning to the end of their lives (including at tax time thanks to the licencing fees which are compulsory).

The image of a public broadcaster here in the States is one which has mostly talk shows, some variety programs (like Car Talk, Prairie Home Companion and Whaddya Know?), also the occasional classical music station. However in the UK, the BBC has radio services running the gamut from local radio stations, to national stations with such diverse missions as playing R&B and hip hop (Radio 1) to classical music (Radio 3), talkback and live sport (Radio 5 Live), comedy (Radio 7) and even an Asian Network.

In the first weeks of 2003, the BBC commissioned a program for the country’s most popular radio station - Radio 2 - called “Lloyd Cole Knew My Father”. The show originated as a stage performance put on by the show’s hosts - Andrew Collins, Stuart Maconie and David Quantick - at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2001, adapted into a six-part radio series featuring “real-life actress” Amelia Bullmore and a special musical guest to provide a song each week.

Here, then, is a somewhat short synopsis of each of the episodes:

Episode 1
Episode 1 covers the story of early rock, including the story of how each of them wound up working at the New Musical Express (alternatively, New Morrissey Express or Not Much Erasure). Quantick goes on to ask why people would be enticed into a world of “sex, drugs, travel and free records”; simple - sex, drugs, travel and free records.

We then get a glimpse into a skit where early blues musician Robert Johnson (who is tagged as not having a fruit nickname or a disability) is tempted by the devil to sell his soul so that he can have the ability to improve his musical skills. After a musical interlude by Edwyn Collins, we then move the story along from US rock over to Liverpool, which was, according to them, was Britain’s only port at the time, home of the Titanic, which sank as a result of the lookout laughing at a droll wisecrack by the purser. Anyway, the story of the Beatles is told, including about a performance in Germany, who are out of the story until reunification.

The episode concludes with the story of the NME, including a period where it incorporated “Accordion Times”, followed by why music jounalists are important - they tell you what you should like, otherwise people would all be going around saying “Oh, I like a little bit of everything really”.

Episode 2
Episode 2 covers the world of live music, taking a Picasso-style look at the genre. The discussion starts with a discussion of the NME’s Gig Guide, which was always wrong, but the only thing people bought the magazine for. Included is a story about how in 1986, the news editor inserted a fake listing into the guide, which led to a thousand fans of two very different bands - The Pogues (with fans who wanted blood) and Everything But the Girl (whose fans wanted cappucino and Espidril).

We then catalog the world of a novice, or tyro, journalist’s first reviews - the first review they go at it whole hog, including headlamp and large notepad; the second, a cigarette pack and some scribbling, to David recounting how he reviewed 3 concerts in one week having only listened to three songs - all by Elton John. Stuart then mentions his review of Jefferson Starship in 1989 at the Reading Festival, where he attended the festival but left before the band actually came on stage, made a comment in the magazine about Grace Slyck (who had left the band 2-1/2 years prior), but kept his job because the editor didn’t bother to read the result.

After a discussion of passes and being on the guest list (which, surprisingly, is not like you would expect), we have the first of two I-Spy guides, this to the dressing room of a headline band. Included on the list of items you may find are aggressive student posters advising that you should not flush the toilet, the brother of a band member who has a demo, here ya go mate, and a slim girl with a poster.

Edwyn Collins performs Graciously and then we’re led into a discussion of roadies and their language; here is a quick guide to their language:

All the following mean “unload”: load out, load in, tear down, derig. However, de rigeur means “compulsory”.

Now, we go onto the tour bus (which sounds like a Robin Reliant), and another I-Spy guide, featuring 2 18-year-old girls who aren’t dressed for Chicago in November and a video collection featuring “This is Spinal Tap”, the scariest pr0n film you’ve ever seen and a film about a boy’s sexual awakening in Canada in fall.

The last important thing to take from this episode is the difference between US and British live albums - US live albums have some moron whooping during the quiet parts.

Episode 3
Episode 3 takes a look at the one item, which if it did not exist, we would have a music industry. Drugs. Songs.

After a segment where a game of “musical genre joke tennis” is played, we then have a discussion of what is and what is not allowed in the blues. Good places to have the blues include the porch and a southbound train; bad places include wine and cheese parties and Guildford. The true origins of Rock ‘n’ Roll are then revealed as just the blues having been stolen from Unwell Cantaloupe Jackson’s porch when he went to answer the phone in rural Tennessee. Unfortunately for him, his woman who done gone left him on the southbound train wasn’t calling. It was Staybrite Windows, who were in the area offering free, no-obligation estimates.

The musical interlude is provided by Roddy Frame, who is courageous enough to sing in his own accent - something you never see happening with British rockstars, who all aim to sound as American as possible. However, we do hear what famous songs might sound like if Sting and Robert Palmer actually sung in their native dialects. It’s not pretty

There are a couple of other types of songs that deserve mention - instrumentals and rap. Instrumentals are just songs which have had the desperately poor lyrics removed, for example Telstar by the Tornadoes which had an unknown B-side featuring the famous lyrics “Telstar / Telstar / Telstar / Telstaaaar”, and Popcorn by Hot Butter, where the lyrics are, not surprisingly, “popcorn popcorn popcorn pop…popcorn popcorn popcorn pop .. corn”. It is one of the best moments in the series, if you ask me.

As far as rap songs are concerned, if it is a rapper crossing over to traditional music, that works out well, but as dramatized by Amelia, if it were the other way around, i.e. Dido doing a rap song, it wouldn’t turn out as well. Just an aside, Robbie Williams’ “Rock DJ” is labeled as “bloody awful” by David.

Episode 4
In Episode 4, we take a look at the world of the rock star and the pop star. It is said that a pop star, dressed by a “mad gay man called a stylist” and a village idiot or simpleton might be easy to confuse. Luckily for us, a cut-out-and-keep guide to separating them. Two key elements:

Interview technique: The popstar says “I love being in a pop group, dancin’ singin’ and rehearsin’” while the village idiot just says “I drink the rainwater off of rose bushes”.
Fashion: The popstar comments - “I have these Nikes which aren’t even out in the UK yet, and my dress is a custom Versace” and the village idiot observes that “my smock says potatoes on it. Only backwards”.

We then have a discussion of the rock star - including the ultimate star, Keith (or Keif, as if using all 5 letters would take away from valuable illusionist time) Richards, who annoys Mick Jagger to no end. Mick’s nightmare, according to them, is to wake up one day to find an overweight Mrs. Jagger next to him complaining that he has to get up and get breakfast ready for their guests.

The last type of star is the Diva. Diva is, apparently, Italian for “crazy” (actually I think it’s just the feminine version of Divo, which I believe stands for god, but don’t quote me on that). Divas make outrageous demands and then balk at them when someone comes to fulfill those demands; the example given is Mariah Carey being delivered a parcel of 1003 puppies; she begrudgingly signs the package, then exclaims “1003! Get them out of here!”

After the musical interlude, once again by Roddy Frame, we finish with a guide on how not to interview Lou Reed, a right curmudgeon. Some tips - don’t correct him, get the names of his famous mates wrong, treat the interview as an interlude in a TV game show (where Lou loses out on a lovely speedboat), take advantage of his hotel room, including using his toilet and ask questions whilst using it; have only one question and keep going back to it, or end the interview with a large bearhug of Lou.

Episode 5
With Episode 5, we take a look at the music industry, including the story of over-manicured and, surprisingly, gay pop singer George Michael’s wish to remove himself from his contract with CBS when they were purchased by Sony, along with how Prince, when he was known as that strange symbol, put “SLAVE” on his forehead.

We then have the history of the record industry (or, as we Americans say it “recerd”), which apparently started in a backwater general store in Kentucky which sold wax cylinders out the back, to the modern era with the mega-conglomerates such as Time Warner, Pew Pew & Barney McGrew and Sony (Japanese for “Remember Pearl Harbor?” - not really ;)).

The next subject of discussion was the Crayola payola scandal and how Alan Freed was made an example, or pastie patsy when he was brought down for being the recipient of payola.

Music in this episode comes from Ian McNabb. After that, we have a glimpse into the growth (and death) of a band, including all the courses they take at various universities, books they read and how they proclaim that they will not be taken advantage of by some unscrupulous manager.

Nevertheless, they get a manager and follows this general “family tree” (with no thanks to Google incidentally) - Alan Olderbloke (who gets them gigs in Dullich, but nothing else because he can’t cross rivers); Jimmy Tourjacket (the first proper manager who gets them demo tapes, and a record deal); Leon C. Yankbastard III (a fat American who’s managed everyone, who then goes on to take the band’s money); The Band (who are bad at managing even after five albums and many tours, getting dropped by their record company); Reg Death (the band’s drug dealer who doesn’t get the band any gigs); and, lastly, the break-up (out of money and cursed with the can’t-cross-rivers disease).

In another skit, we take a glimpse into a meeting between Hitler and Goebbels, where Goebbels advises Hitler to go onto some reality TV shows, such as “I’m a Dictator, Get Me Out of Here”.

The episode ends with how a band gets into a support role on tour. It’s not the dream of Thom Yorke calling you up and saying that they’ll pay you £1,000,000, pick you up and make full arrangements. The reality is that support bands usually have to pay the headliner to be a part of the tour, featuring a phone call from the manager of Mr. Big Band and the Headliners, who has to cut the call short because Hitler’s on What Not to Wear.

Episode 6
In the final episode, number 6, we take a final look at the world of music, including a discussion of the life of the pop group. According to the trio, although Take That were the hottest thing going a few years before, nobody can remember anyone from the band - Alan something (Amelia does name all the members though); they’ve been replaced twice over by Boyzone and Westlife.

Pop groups are not real groups - they’re just manufactured, ordinary people who need to take advantage of their fame now - do the drugs, have fun with the “night-ladies” and buy fast cars before you go down a road that ends in death.

Next is a look at the band on tour, including the tour manager who speaks a variety of languages, all at once, the per diem (the one piece of Latin any group will know), and the difference between a truck stop and a Motorway Service Station (truck stops have hats that say “Keep America Free! Kill a Liberal”, Motorway Service Stations have barley sugars in a tin with a west country terrier on the front.

Another skit takes us into the world of Kraftwerk, imagining our wold as wild dreams; it’s a very funny bit, trust me. Ian McNabb performs as the special musical guest, including doing an imitation of Bob Dylan. That is followed by a look at festivals including a clip about an Acid brownout that went around at Woodstock, and how David and Andrew reviewed the 1991 Glastonbury Festival, on their own. It would have worked well, if it weren’t for one of them drinking a lot of alcohol…

The series ends like any music magazine - with a generalization of the letters page. There are 5 types of letters - 1) Optimistic and Lazy Student, 2) Mad Person, 3) Lonely Hearts, 4) Cheery Foreigner, 5) The Letter of Complaint (most popular).

Why you should listen to it
If you’re a music fan, you will love this irreverent look at the world of music, with stories about many main figures over the history of the genre (all of which are true, but the lawyers have advised them to say that none of them are true).

The show was taped in front of a live audience, so you have the unscripted moments, such as whenever U2 is referred to as “80s band U2″ leading to a laugh in the audience. There are also a lot of skits that are performed by the crew, some of which I’ve detailed above, but there are some true gems out there that I haven’t.

I rediscovered this series when I was going through items to listen to while walking, and I have listened to it quite a few times and find it quite addicting to listen to, so much so that I can recite bits of the show, a la Monty Python.

This week, we look at another of my all-time favorite jazz albums: Arturo Sandoval’s Hot House. It’s an album that I always depend on to allow me to focus on whatever it is I’m doing. In fact, of all the tracks I’ve played that have been transmitted to last.fm, Arturo comes in 7th overall.

The album is one of the first albums that I had bought on my own (as in I got it based on it appealing to me without having had a taste of it in the past). I’ve had it ever since May of 1999 when the school jazz band I was in for the year took a trip down to Chicago. One of the things that the trip involved was a visit to the Jazz Record Mart which was still at 444 N Wabash St (and no, I didn’t need Google to remember that address ;)) at the time.

All this time later, I don’t remember exactly what hooked me on buying the album, it might have been the color on the cover, with the pastels, though I seem to remember there being a sticker on the shrink wrap that said something about being a Grammy-award nominee or winner.

Anyway, whatever the reason I bought it, the album is still worth paying full price for.

If you don’t know anything about Arturo, the important thing to know is that he is originally from Cuba, but has been a citizen since 1999. In fact, in 2000, HBO did a movie about him called For Love or Country: The Arturo Sandoval Story. To this day, I have not seen the movie*, but from what I’ve heard, it was done really well.

I’ve actually had the chance to meet him in person. It was November of 1999, and we were attending a jazz clinic at a college up in Appleton. The first event we went to was a clinic and Q-and-A session he held for all the participants of the event. However, the bit that I still remember to this day was the concert.

He had flown in from Denver on that day, but thanks to some foul-ups in luggage, he didn’t have his usual equipment with him. That didn’t stop him from putting on an amazing show, with the major feature in the show being his performance of “Sandunga” where he did solos on just about every instrument available to him - the piano, trumpet, flügelhorn, drums, timbales, and even making rhythms on his stomach.

To top it off, some of us stuck around after the show and he came out to chat a little bit, while enjoying a cigar, and I was fortunate enough to have my copy of Hot House signed by him. Looking back, about the only thing that wasn’t perfect was that I didn’t have a camera with me, but I have my mental camera and I can still see the stage that he was on, and that’s all I need.

But I do digress back to the topic at hand. Hot House is one of my favorite albums, partly because of the history I personally have with it, but also for the fact that the music is just great to listen to. Interestingly, in my Senior year in High School, we played two of the songs from the album, partly as a result of us petitioning the director to let us play them.

The album starts out with “Funky Cha-Cha” - I think that if every album started out like this one does, you’d have people enjoying music more, but you’d probably have a lot more deaf people because right out of the gate, you have a trumpet glissando up to an approximate high-C and a pop! sound. It’s hard to describe in words what the song sounds like because of its just overall “poppiness”. If you have a listen to the Amazon sample of the song, you will hear the first 30 seconds of it.

The second track, “Rhythm of Our World”, is one of those songs that, for me, sets me in a good place. It starts out with the trumpet again, this time there’s no popping, but rather a very smooth flow, with minimal backing from the piano. It is some of the cleanest playing you will ever hear, with just an amazing vibrato when a note is held. Luckily, this is one of the songs that you can listen to in its entirety on Arturo’s official site - it’s well worth the five minutes.

Both of these songs are the ones that we played in my Senior year. I didn’t play the feature part on Rhythm, but I can tell you that the person who did play it gave it justice.

Then we head back into the driving jazz with the title track, “Hot House”. It’s in the style of almost power rock, but done with the Latin beat. Next up is the first of the two vocal songs on the album, “Only You (No Se Tú)”. It’s a love song performed in both English and Spanish; I don’t remember exactly who the singer is, but she has a very rich voice that perfectly fits the role that is necessary for this song.

The fifth track is the aforementioned “Sandunga” - again, it’s another powerful song, with a lot of the popping you find in Funky Cha-Cha. It features the late Tito Puente on the timbale, and some excellent solos by the house band. This is the other song from this album that is available in its entirety on Arturo’s site, another five minutes well worth the time.

Next is the second voice track, simply titled “Tito”. It’s an homage to Tito Puente, sung in Spanish by Ray Ruiz, and again features Tito on the timbales. It’s another excellent work that features lyrics such as this -

Para tocar al timbál
Tito tiene la llave
Si tú quieres aprender
Tienes el vida de saber

Translated:
To play the Timbal
Tito has the way(?)
If you want to learn
You have the life to know

Later on, the song goes on to say that he is the king of the timbál - which is a very true statement.

Up next is “Closely Dancing” (even though for some reason Amazon have dropped the C of the front…). This is a ballad-style tune, which shows off really how sensual the trumpet can sound, along with the amazing range that Arturo and his band have. However, the range that has been shown up until now doesn’t match the range that is used in the next track - “Mam-Bop”. Being another tune with quite a bit of ‘popping’, it fits right in with the rest of the album and has some amazing sounds in it, not only from the winds, but from the percussion section as well.

We then go back to another ballad with “New Images” - it starts out with the fluegelhorn, transitions to the alto sax, then builds more layers starting with the trumpet, followed by a guitar interlude and then concludes with the whole group playing their hearts out, led by the trumpets again.

Next is “Cuban American Medley” which, as the name suggests, is a medley of American “standards” played in a Cuban style - the first two are instantly recognizable as “Back Home Again in Indiana” and “Take Me Out to the Ballgame”. Another tune performed is the “Little Lulu” theme - I’ll admit that I had to look that one up on the Amazon reviews as I don’t know where the sleeve booklet went for the album.

The album ends on a lighter note with “Brassmen’s Holiday”, which could almost be mistaken for the I Love Lucy theme music with other tunes mixed in, but it is its own piece and a fitting end to the album, with a final display of amazing range from Arturo and winds up getting you moving to the beat in the end, wanting to hear it all again.

That is one thing about this album - it never seems that once is enough. I know that I’m prone to going back and listening to it over and over again, just because it is such an amazing piece of work and worth listening to.

Should you get this album? Absolutely - even if you’re not a jazz fan, it’s worth listening to at least once. Of course, my opinion might be slightly tainted by the fact that I’ve met the man and seen him play in person, and that I’ve actually played songs from the album. Though you never know, listening to this album might change your mind.

Lastly, a mention needs to be made of his version of A Night in Tunisia. For years I’d had heard only the first half of the song, but recently have heard the full version. While it isn’t the most famous version of the song ever done, it is one of the best; it goes for 15 minutes, but it doesn’t feel like that long when you’re listening to it. Below is a clip from the Montreal Jazz Festival where Arturo played a version of Night In Tunisia.

Be forewarned though, that it gets cut off right before the end, and that there is synth playing involved.

Next week, I’m not going to feature an album, but rather a radio show about music…

*Actually, I did see the movie, but it was scrambled so I could only hear it (anyone else remember the days when you could watch the scrambled feeds of the premium channels? ;))