kNOw Deposit, kNOw Return

Covid-19 and Bandcamp, Post Number 30: Noise With A Side Helping Of Justice

Today, I'm going to shine a spotlight on Wisconsin-based Utech Records, who lean toward the noisier end of the musical spectrum, encompassing free jazz, harsh guitar-based music, noise, drone, and more. I'm going to directly quote from a message I received via Bandcamp today.

Utech Records stands in solidarity with those protesting in Minneapolis and elsewhere.

All week Utech Records will donate 100% of sales to Minnesota Freedom Fund.

Minnesota Freedom Fund assists in paying bail & immigration bonds to those in need. Donations to this organization are especially crucial at the moment to help out the frontline protestors in Minneapolis that are responding to the murder of George Floyd at the hands of the Minneapolis Police Department.

Learn more about the Minnesota Freedom Fund here: minnesotafreedomfund.org

It always does me good to see, time and time again, that the labels and bands I support are good people. That makes me more willing to send them my money. This is especially true when they turn around and pass that money on to a worthwhile cause.

Everything is political. Every decision has a consequence. Make them positive ones.

Utech Records Bandcamp Page Here.

What Do Dar Williams and Bruce Dickinson Have In Common?

 Last year, I saw two musicians, Dar Williams and Bruce Dickinson, on book tours. Admittedly, Williams included music as part of her performance, but the other Dickinson's was a book reading/slideshow at an actual book store. Here in 2018, I’ve finally gotten around to reading the books, so here’s some words about words. I'll try not to be too wordy.

Dar Williams

I never knew that Dar Williams was a fan of city planning, but given her astute lyrics about human interrelationships and foibles, I’m not surprised. As a touring musician, she gets to visit a wide range of communities. Better yet, she gets to revisit them and notice changes.

I have a BA degree in Sociology, so this kind of thing holds some interest for me.

As far as my musical interests go, Dar Williams is an outlier. Her songs have a poppy, effervescent quality missing from most of my music collection. Her lyrics are more feel-good than feel-bad, but she manages to write with such heart-warming intelligence and charm that I was won over early on. In this case, “early on” means the time I saw her open for Finnish folk group Varttina at the Great American Music Hall in 1992, back when “The Honesty Room” was her only album.

A quarter of a century later and I’m still a fan, although my favorite CDs are still the early ones. I mentioned above that her songs are more cheerful than my usual listening fare, so it was interesting to note that during her performance and the recently renovated UC Theater (it used to be a movie theater, and I can remember many happy hours there – but come to think of it, given the subject of her book,  it was a perfect venue for her on this tour), she only played a couple of verses of my favorite song, Bought and Sold, from her third album, “End of the Summer”, deeming it too depressing to play in its entirety. The thing is, out of all of her songs, it is probably the most thematically related to the book.

“What I Found In A Thousand Towns” isn’t the first book she has published, and it isn’t even the first book of hers that I’ve bought, but it is the first one I’ve read. I’ll get to “Amalee” one of these days, but since it’s a children’s book, I’ve put off reading it.

The book is divided into three sections. The first part, Spaces, investigates ways in which created spaces, natural space, and waterfronts can help facilitate positive proximity (a term that binds this book together, so to speak). Positive proximity is the concept that is first mentioned in the introduction as being the essential ingredient to determining positive relationships in our towns. Some towns, like Moab, Utah, are luckier than others when it comes to natural space, and obviously waterfronts are a relatively rare commodity. Created spaces can be anywhere, as long as there are people with the time, ambition, and resources to make them.

Part Two investigates identity building, and Part Three is about translation. Williams states that, “translation is the magic ingredient that makes successful towns and cities happen,” and she then further breaks down the concept into structural, mutual, and individual translation. Structural translation is the physical underpinnings of a community – its wiring, signage, and ease of access. Mutual translation is the human partnerships, and as for the individuals, Williams spends a fair amount of time writing about people she calls “conscious bridgers” who take their extroverted selves to the next level when it comes to making connections with others, diving headfirst into taking on projects that benefit their communities, and generally behave in a way that would be exhausting for an introvert like myself. I know some people who could be described as conscious bridgers, and more power to them, because I don’t think I’d ever be good at being one.

There are a lot of anecdotes about towns Williams has visited on tours or lived in. Names both familiar (Pete Seeger, for one) and unfamiliar appear in the text.

This book is not in any way an autobiography or memoir, so readers expecting such a thing will be disappointed. There were a few moments where my eyes glazed over as I tried to keep track of which town I was in and who the large cast of characters were, but that may be partially due to my habit of reading in bed at the end of long days.

I even stumbled across a story I mention every week at the science camp I work for. On her section about waterfronts, Williams writes about how many waterways were in pretty dismal shape before environmental regulations started the long path toward cleaner living conditions. One such waterfront was along the Cuyahoga River in Cleveland, Ohio. The Cuyahoga was so polluted during the sixties (and before) that it actually caught fire in 1968. Williams refers to this as Combustible River Syndrome (CRS), and mentions a few other U.S. rivers that at one point or other (some many times) went up in flames.

When writing about translation, Williams brings up this viral video about police officers in Gainesville, FL (a town that Williams states is full of conscious bridgers) being called out due to a noise disturbance. This is only one example of some of the beautiful stories mentioned within these pages. We live in a time of deep division, and anything people can do to connect with others is a beautiful thing. See the video and the rematch video here. I wish all cops were like this guy.

Bruce Dickinson

After reading Williams' book, I dove right into Bruce Dickinson’s autobiography, “What Does This Button Do?” For those who need an introduction, Dickinson has been Iron Maiden’s vocalist for 30 years or so. The title refers to the author’s penchant for taking chances, which in this case, has certainly borne fruit.

Last year, Dickinson stopped by Kepler’s bookstore in Menlo Park on a book tour. Coincidentally, this happened only a few months after I’d rekindled my interest in Iron Maiden. Iron Maiden were perhaps my favorite band during the early eighties, and although I’ll admit to having a particular soft spot for their first two (non-Dickinson) albums, I happily bought the first few albums featuring Dickinson before gradually losing interest due to the expansion of my musical horizons in other directions. I last saw Iron Maiden perform at San Francisco’s Cow Palace on their “Powerslave” tour, back in 1985 or so.

Early last year, I watched one of those “kids react” videos featuring Iron Maiden, and it made me realize that I hadn’t listened to the band in forever. It also made me realize that they had released around three decades of music that I hadn’t even heard. I subsequently marched out and bought a stack of used CDs. Conveniently enough, they had just released a double CD entitled “The Book Of Souls”. I made that mine as well. Then I found out about the book tour…

Iron Maiden predates my current, adult take on musicians and celebrities in general. I can remember being a teenager (and younger) during a time when meeting members of my favorite bands was an unlikely proposition. That said, standing in line for an autograph isn’t really “meeting”, is it? All of this aside, the fact that Bruce Dickinson was going to be speaking at Kepler’s on a book tour was pretty mind-blowing. Iron Maiden are pretty much as close to mega-stardom within their chosen genre as anyone. Needless to say, tickets for the event sold out, but not before I bought one ticket/book combo and one stand-alone ticket. That meant, we found upon arrival, that my wife, Jeanine, and I couldn’t sit together. We would have had to buy two books to do that. Various old friends were peppered throughout the audience too. Dickinson arrived with a humorless minder who stood to the side of the little stage area and maintained impressive vigilance during the talk. To be fair, he’d probably heard the same talk enough times for the varnish to have worn off of it.

Dickinson proved to be an accomplished public speaker (no doubt from over thirty years of publicly speaking and singing to audiences numbering in the tens of thousands). He was also unexpectedly hilarious. He read selected passages from the book, which only whetted my appetite for reading it, took questions from the audience (although they had to be written down on 2 by 5 cards and vetted), and finally sat at a table so people who bought the book could line up and get it signed. It was all done very efficiently because apparently he had to be on a plane to New York immediately afterward.

My friend Wayne surreptitiously photographed me while I was getting my book signed. He's good at that.

The book traces Dickinson’s path from childhood up through the recording of the aforementioned “The Book Of Souls”, ending with his cancer diagnosis and grueling treatment. He writes about this incident in a hilarious and self-effacing fashion, and a good chunk of this chapter was read to us at the event.  It was weird hearing a childhood hero relate his troubles on the toilet.

Generally speaking, the book traces the path of an amazing renaissance man, whose love of singing, fencing, piloting, writing, adventuring, and briefly, filmmaking, are all well documented. His writing style is unique, and he proves adept at telling the story in a way that keeps the pages turning. I came away wanting to read his novels (yes, he has written a few), and delve into his solo career (to my knowledge, I have heard exactly none of his solo albums). Like they say in showbiz, if you can leave them wanting more, you’ve done your job well.

I had known that Dickinson was a pilot, sometimes flying the band around the globe on tour, but beyond that, I was in the dark. It was interesting to get a look into that world. As I read, a picture emerged of a man who doesn’t seem to sit still for long. His creative endeavors sound exhausting, but at the same time, inspiring. He has pared down this book to the essentials (ie: the things that people are likely going to want to read about).  In the afterword, he writes, “No births, marriages or divorces, of me or anybody else.” This was a sound decision, I think. Events of personal significance don’t always make the leap to gripping literature.

I also have to mention the chapter about Sarajevo, when the band played a gig in the middle of an active war zone. That makes for some gripping reading. Kudos to them for doing such a thing.

As a longtime fan of the early albums (I’m still digesting the later ones), I really enjoyed reading about those years. The thing about this book though, is that I believe it has a more universal appeal. Being an Iron Maiden fan helps, but it isn’t a necessary criteria for admission. Dickinson’s trajectory is interesting enough to have universal appeal.

Of the two books, “What Does This Button Do?” is a much more compelling read, although “What I Found In A Thousand Towns” is more interesting from a sociological perspective. Dickinson inspires the reader to heights of personal greatness, while Williams reminds us that cooperation and networking are crucial to collective greatness. It's nice when people whose work I enjoy reveal themselves to be multifaceted.

In closing, here's a photo of the assembled nerds after the signing.

 

 

Unsafe As Milk

The Safe As Milk festival, scheduled to be held at Pontins Prestatyn Sands Holiday Park in Wales over the weekend of April 21 - 23, included a mouthwatering, eclectic line-up, including Shirley Collins (who was my main reason for deciding to buy a ticket), Nurse With Wound, Circle (who were scheduled to do two sets, one of which was an acoustic one), Grouper, Butthole Surfers, The Residents, Ulver, and many more. I checked out a lot of the other artists online as my excitement for the festival grew, and I discovered that I especially liked Moor Mother, Richard Dawson, and Ndagga Rhythm Force.

The online reviews for the Holiday Park made it sound like sort of a shit hole, but rooms were included in the price of the tickets, and I figured we'd be too busy to care too much about the rooms. It was going to be all about the music. 

This article from The Guardian sheds some light on the cancellation.

I had been in touch with my friend Nidge, who was also going to be attending, and then I received the e-mail, steaming forth from my laptop screen like a turd in a microwave. The festival was canceled and the company behind it had gone into liquidation. They weren't sending out refunds (presumably because their other, more powerful debtors vultured in and swooped off with our ticket money), so I had to contact my bank and request a charge-back. The money is back in my account, although the bank claims to be still investigating the matter (edited to add: the investigation has been concluded and I've officially gotten a refund).

So what does one do when the flight is booked, time off of work has been arranged, and the weekend in question is looming? We figured we'd go anyway ("we" being my wife, Jeanine, and I). I started haunting venue websites and doing searches for upcoming shows in London (we were flying into Heathrow because it was cheapest). I reasoned that a lot of the bands had already booked flights too, so there would be some last minute substitute shows added.

I managed to miss getting tickets for the Grouper shows, which wasn't too bad because Grouper, aka Liz Harris, is from Portland, Oregon, which is almost local, relatively speaking. I did manage score a couple of tickets for Ndagga Rhythm Force at Cafe OTO  in London though. By the time I noticed that they were playing two shows, the Saturday one had already sold out, but the Sunday matinee show wasn't. Sunday matinee it would be.

Even better, Nidge offered to let us stay at his place in London. We had three and a half days to play with, so I started thinking about what else we could do during that time. I considered trying to make it up to Bath, but we eventually decided to stay closer to London. The Atlas Obscura website gave me  few ideas, and there were also a number of things I'd done before and wouldn't mind doing again. Plus, it was a good bet that Nidge would have some suggestions. It was also not lost on me that we would be in London for Record Store Day. That wasn't really a priority this time out though, because I was aware that Jeanine probably wouldn't want to be dragged into a bunch of record stores.

Like most long journeys, this one started in the middle of the night. I managed to get a few hours of sleep, but Jeanine stayed up. It rained on the way to the airport, and the automated gate at the parking lot wouldn't accept my prepaid code, so I had to go inside the hotel next to it and sort things out. Inside the airport, we got through all of the regular security hurdles in good time and settled in.

The sun rose.

The flight was uneventful, with a quick stop in Dallas before winging toward Heathrow. A security line, money exchange, and a bit of a tube ride later, and we were walking the short walk to Nidge's place. He met us in the street.

The last time I stayed at Nidge's, I was with my brother and we were preparing to head homeward after attending two evenings of Current 93 at the HMV Forum. That was seven years ago. In some ways, it was like no time had passed at all. Jeanine hadn't met Nidge before, so after introductions, we decided how to best fill the day. Nidge mentioned the possibility of going to one of his favorite places,Watts Chapel.

Getting to the chapel involved a drive into the suburbs and parking along a quintessential English lane. We then wandered uphill through the cemetery and into the tiny chapel. It was indeed beautiful and worth the visit.

Earlier, Nidge had revealed that the cemetery featured the grave of none other than Aldous Huxley, which was coincidental because I had recently purchased his novel, "Brave New World" because due to current trends (political and otherwise), I've gotten it into my head to read all of the classic dystopian novels this year (It's shameful that I haven't yet). 

After paying our respects to Mr. Huxley, we drove down the lane for a bite to eat and a spot of tea. I can't now remember exactly what I ordered, but I remember that it was excellent and involved cheese. This is what I get for not writing this account sooner.

After our repast, Nidge announced that he was going to show me some British lizards. He's a passionate birder, and I'm a passionate herper, and the two passions are quite compatible, both requiring the visiting of natural areas. The day was overcast and cool, which isn't the best herping weather, but we gamely set out on a meander over a nearby heath. Nidge, true to form, casually identified every chirp and cheep as we walked. If I remember correctly, he was especially happy about hearing a Dartford Warbler.

I found a Raft Spider on one of the the wooden walkways, and then a  little later on, saw my first UK lizard. It was an unassuming little creature simply called a Common Lizard. They must really be common if they can be found on chilly days. Common or not, I was happy. Before the end of the walk, we found at least a couple more.

I even convinced the first lizard to walk onto my hand:

Nidge also found us some little Sundew plants.

In the evening, we descended on The Ship Tavern (est. 1549, rebuilt 1923) to meet up with Jo0lie and Ian. They're all part of a group of friends who have been delving into London's history in a quest to find and visit all of the oldest pubs still open for business and serving food. A pub that originally opened over 200 years before my home country was founded definitely counts. The food and company was excellent. Joolie hasn't changed a bit.

 The next day, Jeanine and I took in a couple of museums, namely the British Museum of Natural History (which I had visited before) and the Hunterian Museum (which I had learned about via Atlas Obscura). Looking this up to provide a link, I notice that we got in under the wire. There are two conflicting notices on the page, one stating the museum is now permanently closed, and one stating that the museum is closed until 2020. The British museum was fun, but crowded, and the Hunterian Museum was fascinating, despite the fact that a large percentage of its exhibits were of the "things in jars" variety. I took a few photos before noticing the "no photos" sign.

We later met Nidge at Rough Trade. We got there early and discovered that despite it being 4:30 in the afternoon, there was a big queue of people waiting to get in. Record Store Day in England is no joke. Here in the states, the lines usually dissipate before noon. I had already secured a copy of the Popol Vuh record I was after (or more correctly Nidge's early-rising friend had secured it), but I figured I'd see what else I could find. I had decided to not spend as much time in records stores this trip because I knew Jeanine would rather be doing other things. This is a far cry from my initial visits to England during which all records stores were visited, some multiple times. I picked up a Def Leppard 12" (a repress of their first 7") and a Gnod CD (not a RSD release, but I'd recently read a good review of it).

Afterward, we went and saw the theatrical production of Woman In Black. Nidge and I had both seen it before, but it was Jeanine's first time. It was as good as I remember it being. Beforehand, we watched a street performer doing juggling and balancing. I wasn't doing as good a job, and managed to dropped my camera lens on the cobblestones, which broke the autofocus knob. At least the lens itself didn't crack.

Afterward, we sauntered along the Thames. I tried to recreate the photos Greg and I took on our last trip, with mixed results.

At some point during the trip, we wandered by platform 9 and 3/4 at King's Cross. There was a big line of people waiting to take selfies next to it, so we wandered on.

On Sunday, we slept in a bit, and then Jeanine and I rushed off to see the Tower of London before the 2:00 PM Ndagga Rhythm Force show at Cafe OTO. We arrived at the Tower to discover that we were in the midst of the London Marathon, with crowds lining the streets and the Marathon route blocked off. We eventually managed to enter the Tower and take a quick walk through the buildings. We got to see a tower raven sitting on a railing, the crown jewels, and various other related sights.

Then, it was a mad dash toward Cafe OTO, first on the tube and then on one of the aboveground train routes. It looked like we were going to be late, but when we finally made it to the Cafe, the band hadn't started yet.

I've been aware of Cafe OTO for awhile because artists I like tend to perform there. I've even bought music from them online, and it was because of this that I found out that Ndagga Rhythm Force was performing there to fill the void left by the implosion of Safe As Milk. the venue itself is a small cafe that doubles (triples) as a performance space and record store. The record rack is small but potent, the food is good, and the audience filled the space. I'm not sure if the Sunday matinee was sold out like the Saturday evening show was, but if not, it was close.

The group is from Senegal, but they seem to have been taken under the wing of German techno musician Mark Ernestus. Their earlier releases are credited to Jeri-Jeri, and they have since expanded into Mark Ernestus' Ndagga Rhythm Force. Generally speaking, I'm not a fan of techno, but give me some real drummers pounding out complicated rhythms, an undercurrent of melancholy, and heaps of sheer exuberance, and I'm there in the front row.

The show was a riot of percussion, dancing, and the honeyed tones of Mbene Diatta Seck's expressive vocals. As the name suggests, the drums are the driving force behind the music. In fact, the guitarist was off in a corner while the various percussionists took center stage. Modou Mbaye's talking drum skittered along the top of the percussive depths like a manic surfer.

Dancer Fatou Wore Mboup was the visual focal point, and she looked like she was having a blast. At one point, both Mboup and Mbaye parted the crowd and brought the show into the audience. At other times, audience members were dragged onto the stage.

I came away wanting more. I had to console myself with some purchases at the merch table before following Jeanine back out onto the street.

Our next stop was the Hardy Tree, which was a short walk from King's Cross. It was hidden by a hedge in a churchyard. Nidge, who had actually seen shows in the church, hadn't ever noticed it. Thanks again, Atlas Obscura.

Afterward, we set out for Kensal Green Cemetery, only to find that it was already closed for the evening. At least we were on the outside of the gate when it was shut. I wonder if the two hapless people peering out at us from the inside managed to find a way out without having to climb a wall.

Not wanting to waste a trip, we took some photos between gaps in the fence as we walked back toward the tube station.

We rendezvoused with Nidge at Crossbones Cemetery for some, as Nidge joked, hippie bollocks. Actually, it was quite nice, and we were treated to a skit featuring St. George and the Dragon, and some heartfelt speechifying about recognizing and remembering the woman whose remains had been disturbed there. We even got to take a quick walk around inside the fence. There are no gravestones or other markers, of course, since the area served as a huge common grave for the downtrodden and dispossessed, most of whom (if not all) were prostitutes.

Afterward, Jeanine and I found a quick bite to eat and then we joined Nidge and one of his friends at an old pub up the street. His friend, who turned out to be an amateur historian later showed us a nondescript wall that he said was one of the oldest still standing in London.

Back at Nidge's, we slept the sleep of the exhausted. The next morning, he brought us to the airport. Our flight back was (wonder of wonders) nonstop. It started raining as we left.

It was more of a hassle getting back into the U.S. than it was entering the UK. Number forty five is more of a number two, if you catch my meaning.

The trip was a whirlwind of activity. We were only there for half a week, but I'm glad that I got a chance to take Jeanine to the UK, and it was great to reconnect with Nidge and to simply be there. There is this indefinable feeling I get when I'm in England. I've only been there a handful of times, but in some ways, it feels like home. Sure, right now the politics of both the UK and the U.S. are a shitshow of ignorance, but that's not what I'm talking about. It's the little differences between there and here. It's the charming old buildings and the ease of their public transportation system. It's the cemeteries and skylines. I could go on, but It's time to wrap this up for now, since as I type, it's already July.  Where does the time go?

 

Tomorrow's Conversations, Yesterday's Disasters

It's interesting how news of a new disaster tends to eclipse our memory of earlier ones, especially if the magnitude of the newer one is larger.  When one considers how much information we are bombarded with on a daily basis, this isn't too surprising.  Remember when news of Japan's recent earthquake and resulting tsunami was plastered all over the internet?  Probably.  Remember that New Zealand also recently suffered an earthquake?  Maybe not.  The Japanese disaster effectively erased that one from our overburdened memory banks.  Unless, of course, you live in New Zealand.

A few posts ago, I mentioned a download-only benefit compilation for Japan.  You can still get that here.  I now want to direct your attention towards a download-only benefit compilation for New Zealand, where relief is also still needed.  This release, entitled "Tomorrow's Conversations", is curated by Alicia Merz of the wonderful Birds of Passage (scroll down a bit for a review of the Birds of Passage CD) and features not only a Birds of Passage track, but a song by Dear and Unfamiliar,which is a collaboration between Merz and Leonardo Rosato.  In addition to this, you get 11 more songs of shoegaze, post rock, and other genres of similar nature.  If your taste in music inclines toward the moody end of the spectrum, or if you're adventurous in your listening habits and just want to hear some new music, you can't go wrong here.    If that weren't enough, the minimum donation is just $6.00 (although you can pay any amount over that, of  course).  You can even listen to the whole thing before you buy.  Somebody you've never met in a country far away will thank you.  Get it here.  Even if you hate it.  Karma points will be awarded.

Birds of Passage on Facebook.

Dear and Unfamiliar on Facebook.

 

Downloading A Post-Literate Society

While I appreciate many mp3 bloggers for sharing music that is otherwise difficult, if not impossible, to find, I've noticed that many of them simply post the titles and the download links, and very little or nothing else.  This worries me. 

It's getting to the point that people can have blogs without ever writing an original word.  Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the fact that  for many people, time is limited, but if you're truly passionate about something, isn't it better to wait until you have the time to do it justice? 

Then there are people who post video reviews.  I'm not talking about movie reviews here.  I'm talking about people who record themselves verbally reviewing something, often music or film.

I view blogs like this as blocked exits along the road to a post-literate society.  With the options to leave the road disappearing, we're forced to drive on into a distopian future where the art of writing is lost. Maybe I'm being old fashioned about this.  I do tend to take a Luddite stance against technology, mostly because I see our societal addiction to technological gadgets as harmful.  That said, maybe this type of non-written communication is some sort of natural evolution in the way we relate to each other, with all of this recently available technology acting as a catalyst. 

Or maybe people are just being fucking lazy. 

There are some mp3 blogs that buck this trend.  Good Bad Music immediately comes to mind.  I love a good write-up with my free downloads. 

 

Benefit for the Recovery in Japan

On March 24th, Antiopic Records released a massive digital-only release called "Benefit for the Recovery in Japan".  All proceeds go to the recovery efforts, and the release features nearly five hours worth of music.  I'm in the middle of listening to it right now, so this isn't a proper review, but there is so much music here (64 songs) that even if you've heard none of the bands, there is likely to be something on it that you will like.  Not to mention the fact that all of the money goes to the continuing recovery efforts in Japan. 

The bands/musicians I was most excited to see here are Elm, Evan Caminiti (hey!  both members of Barn Owl!), Spires That in the Sunset Rise, Lau Nau, and Mountains.  I was happy to see many other names as well, and I'm finding that many of the artists I hadn't previously heard are also very good.  I'm not sure, but it looks like most or all of the songs appear here for the first time too.  Even if you buy this and like none of it, you've still managed to donate $15.00 to a good cause, so click here to get yourself a ton of new music.  You'll feel good about yourself and people elsewhere will benefit.