Elton John is coming to the Kentucky Fried Center. Well, that’s nice, I suppose. Better than the Eagles, at least.
That’s my reaction today, but if this was still 1973, I’d be all, “OMG, you guys! Elton John is coming!!!”
I’m passionate about music, clearly, and I’m the opposite of the person who says, “My favorite type of music? I don’t know, I like all types.” While I do, too, that’s because I spend a lot of time listening to music, thinking about it, researching it.
My favorite periods have included the doo wop of the late ‘50’s urban streets, the free jazz movement in the ‘60s, the outlaw country of the mid-70’s, the punk scene of the late ‘70’s and the indie rock of the recent era.
Pop and hip hop have made great sonic strides in the past decade, thanks to producers like Timbaland and Danger Mouse, but I’m still grateful that the pop of my childhood included Prince, Michael Jackson, Madonna and Cyndi Lauper. Sorry, Katy Perry and the Black Eyed Peas, I just don’t feel you.
If I had to pick one period in music that is my favorite, today, I would say the singer-songwriters of the early ‘70s. A recent edition of PBS’ “American Masters” series focused on L.A.’s Troubadour Club in that era. Some of my favorites – Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Randy Newman, Jackson Browne, Van Morrison – dominated the club in that era.
While I love that era, the thought of having to endure some of those people in concert today – Elton, Crosby Stills & Nash, James Taylor, Bonnie Raitt, et al. – gives me the shivers.
My parents recently saw folk singers Peter & Paul (Mary died in 2009) and reported back that no one in the audience was younger than 55. How does a room full of affluent AARP members singing “We Shall Overcome” together, during Obama’s presidency, still make sense?
The best art is inspired by the times in which the artist lives. Picasso’s “Guernica” could only have happened at that time, though surely someone is developing an iPhone app that will truly capture the rebel spirit of today’s Jasmine Revolution.
This month, I cut short a trip to Florida so that I could witness the thrill of Lady Gaga’s debut performance at the Bucket. She did not disappoint; it was one of the greatest spectacles I’ve ever experienced.
Her show is a combination of the best elements of tent revival, circus, Broadway and drag show all in one. Seeing her today, at the probable peak of her powers and freshness, is made even more exciting by feeling swept up in her mission of acceptance. It’s a message thankfully becoming increasingly mainstream with forward momentum being seen in marriage equality, military service equality and the popularity of those “Glee” twinks.
The best artists don’t have to be 24 to make an impact. The best have a hunger that is palpable, a need to express themselves that can overcome most obstacles. There’s a guy called Seasick Steve who is putting out a record on Jack White’s Third Man Records soon. He was discovered in 2006 by the British music press – at the age of 65.
His style of drunken uncle blues music made a splash at the South by Southwest festival in Austin last week, like when his fellow bluesmen R.L. Burnside and Junior Kimbrough were discovered in the 1990s, by folks half their age.
There’s no age that’s right or wrong for creativity. Stevie Wonder was known as “Little Stevie” when he emerged at 12 years old. The only problem is, that creativity left him somewhere in the early 1980’s. He was my first concert, but you couldn’t pay me to see him today.
As for ol’ Elton, I still listen to his best music. I appreciate that he, too, helped pave the way for greater tolerance in our society. But he can no longer change my life, or even my plans.
c. 2011 Velocity Weekly
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
music issue 2011 - Bunny Day and the Mercy Buckets
Bunny Day and the Mercy Buckets, as a name, tells potential listeners a couple of things. First, that they’re not your average rock band – indeed, there’s little that is rockist about them.
You might guess that they’re goofy, quirky, weird. They are, if you think that “normal” music means Jamie Foxx or Nickelback.
Also, if your skills include knowing some freshman-level French and/or enjoying puns, you might assume that this group is not only whimsical but also French-inspired. Their influences include diverse sources like polka, indie rock and, yes, French cabaret and chanson music.
“We've been really good friends for a long time, but we’d never lived in the same city before,” begins Lacey Guthrie, who plays accordion. “We had been courting each other musically. I would go to Lexington and do cover songs with her. Amy moved here, and we decided that it was just gonna happen.”
Now they write their own songs. Banjoist Amy Lee said, “We're good at writing when we're hungover. Sometimes it's together, sometimes it's not. It's hard to write without each other.”
Lee was inspired to begin playing her banjo after an Avett Brothers concert. Scott Avett let her play his instrument briefly, and “I decided that, ‘This is awesome, I want this for Christmas.’”
Guthrie began playing her instrument on “kind of a whim. I already played piano, and I thought they sound really sweet, so I went accordion hunting.” Recently, she bought a saw at Home Depot after hearing one played in an Ugly Casanova song. “I went online and found clips of old men playing them. They were really adorable, so I just learned from that.”
They recorded material for an EP last fall at the now-closed club Skull Alley. Guthrie said, “It was surprisingly difficult. We had some Bulleit bourbon, which we used for percussion.”
Now that the duo are neighbors, it will prove hard to keep them apart.
Lee said, ”If we had a falling out, I would never do music again. I would kill my banjo. I would light her accordion on fire. That's how I feel.”
You might guess that they’re goofy, quirky, weird. They are, if you think that “normal” music means Jamie Foxx or Nickelback.
Also, if your skills include knowing some freshman-level French and/or enjoying puns, you might assume that this group is not only whimsical but also French-inspired. Their influences include diverse sources like polka, indie rock and, yes, French cabaret and chanson music.
“We've been really good friends for a long time, but we’d never lived in the same city before,” begins Lacey Guthrie, who plays accordion. “We had been courting each other musically. I would go to Lexington and do cover songs with her. Amy moved here, and we decided that it was just gonna happen.”
Now they write their own songs. Banjoist Amy Lee said, “We're good at writing when we're hungover. Sometimes it's together, sometimes it's not. It's hard to write without each other.”
Lee was inspired to begin playing her banjo after an Avett Brothers concert. Scott Avett let her play his instrument briefly, and “I decided that, ‘This is awesome, I want this for Christmas.’”
Guthrie began playing her instrument on “kind of a whim. I already played piano, and I thought they sound really sweet, so I went accordion hunting.” Recently, she bought a saw at Home Depot after hearing one played in an Ugly Casanova song. “I went online and found clips of old men playing them. They were really adorable, so I just learned from that.”
They recorded material for an EP last fall at the now-closed club Skull Alley. Guthrie said, “It was surprisingly difficult. We had some Bulleit bourbon, which we used for percussion.”
Now that the duo are neighbors, it will prove hard to keep them apart.
Lee said, ”If we had a falling out, I would never do music again. I would kill my banjo. I would light her accordion on fire. That's how I feel.”
music issue 2011 - Barefoot Best Friends
From the Chieftains to the Pogues, Celtic folk music has often been seen as a rugged, manly musical genre. Songs about the potato famine and The Troubles depict a rough life in a beautiful land.
Though La Grange is a lovely town in Oldham County, there’s little that is rough, rugged or manly about the Barefoot Best Friends. Louisville’s youngest group plays a lively, mostly instrumental strain of the music which reveals its role as a progenitor of Bluegrass music. The all-female members – Christina, Isabelle, Emmaly, Ellie, Lily and Jessie - range in age from 10 to 17.
The BBF girls, hailing from four families, have been BFFs for several years. They began playing together while working on a project for disability awareness in school, said Patti Beth Miller, mother of Ellie and Jessie.
“Three summers ago,” Miller said, “I was selling flowers at the La Grange Farmers Market. I suggested that if they played there next to me, they might get tips. So they started looking for music that they would all enjoy playing together.”
The girls share an appreciation for Celtic and mountain music, and are generally uninterested in pop music. “Barefoot Best Friends is fiddle music, more like dance music,” relates 13-year-old Emmaly, a violinist. During the nice months, they continue to perform at the Farmers Market, in addition to other performances around the region.
Several of the parents are musicians, and often played public radio while driving the girls around. “I heard banjo on the radio, and I asked my dad what it was,” said her 10-year-old sister Christina. What she heard was “Snowden’s Jig,” a old-timey string song by the Carolina Chocolate Drops.
“I decided I was going to learn, so I got lessons. “ Initially trained on piano, she also plays accordion, washboard and now, “banjo is pretty easy,” she said. “I have the hang of it. I try to practice every day, but it doesn't always work out that way.”
As to what the future might bring, the younger girls have voted to bring in a new member. The 16-year-old family friend, who also plays violin, is a boy.
Ten-year-old Christina mused, “I don't know if I'll make a career out of it, but I'll keep on playing as long as I can.”
c. 2011 Velocity Weekly
Though La Grange is a lovely town in Oldham County, there’s little that is rough, rugged or manly about the Barefoot Best Friends. Louisville’s youngest group plays a lively, mostly instrumental strain of the music which reveals its role as a progenitor of Bluegrass music. The all-female members – Christina, Isabelle, Emmaly, Ellie, Lily and Jessie - range in age from 10 to 17.
The BBF girls, hailing from four families, have been BFFs for several years. They began playing together while working on a project for disability awareness in school, said Patti Beth Miller, mother of Ellie and Jessie.
“Three summers ago,” Miller said, “I was selling flowers at the La Grange Farmers Market. I suggested that if they played there next to me, they might get tips. So they started looking for music that they would all enjoy playing together.”
The girls share an appreciation for Celtic and mountain music, and are generally uninterested in pop music. “Barefoot Best Friends is fiddle music, more like dance music,” relates 13-year-old Emmaly, a violinist. During the nice months, they continue to perform at the Farmers Market, in addition to other performances around the region.
Several of the parents are musicians, and often played public radio while driving the girls around. “I heard banjo on the radio, and I asked my dad what it was,” said her 10-year-old sister Christina. What she heard was “Snowden’s Jig,” a old-timey string song by the Carolina Chocolate Drops.
“I decided I was going to learn, so I got lessons. “ Initially trained on piano, she also plays accordion, washboard and now, “banjo is pretty easy,” she said. “I have the hang of it. I try to practice every day, but it doesn't always work out that way.”
As to what the future might bring, the younger girls have voted to bring in a new member. The 16-year-old family friend, who also plays violin, is a boy.
Ten-year-old Christina mused, “I don't know if I'll make a career out of it, but I'll keep on playing as long as I can.”
c. 2011 Velocity Weekly
music issue 2011 - Sandpaper Dolls
When "Don't Worry, Be Happy" hit the pop charts in 1988, many Americans were introduced to A cappella singing – and quickly dismissed it as a goofy trick. Bobby McFerrin's overly optimistic song nonetheless exposed an approach to pop music that continues today in unexpected places - like Louisville.
In an era when even the most obviously sexy pop group has little chance of succeeding in the music business, three women have joined to sing together, unencumbered by instruments that need to be played outside of one's own body, and unconcerned about the business of the music business.
The Sandpaper Dolls were all veterans of the local music scene when they met each other at downtown's late Jazz Factory. Suki Anderson worked there and had sung with the soul group a.m. Sunday. Amber Estes sang with the jazz groups Liberation Prophecy and the Todd Hildreth Trio. Rebecca Dennison sang with folk singer Jamie Barnes.
Anderson approached Estes about working together. Estes said, “We slowly peeled members and instruments away until we were left with just the voice. We decided on an A cappella trio and had a couple of people in mind, but then realized, who has a better voice than Rebecca? So we got together and sang in Suki's dining room and made animal noises until we had a band.”
In addition to more obvious vocal inspirations - The Staple Singers, The Pointer Singers, The Bulgarian Woman's Choir - the women have also been encouraged by composer Philip Glass, deep soul from Donny Hathaway to the Budos Band, and the experimentation of off-center pop artists like Bjork and Tom Waits.
They self-released a full-length live album, “Live at 21C,” recorded in the downtown hotel’s atrium, in 2009. Future goals include not only a studio album and touring, but also, according to Estes, “creating a silent movie soundtrack and forming a creepy choir.”
c. 2011 Velocity Weekly
In an era when even the most obviously sexy pop group has little chance of succeeding in the music business, three women have joined to sing together, unencumbered by instruments that need to be played outside of one's own body, and unconcerned about the business of the music business.
The Sandpaper Dolls were all veterans of the local music scene when they met each other at downtown's late Jazz Factory. Suki Anderson worked there and had sung with the soul group a.m. Sunday. Amber Estes sang with the jazz groups Liberation Prophecy and the Todd Hildreth Trio. Rebecca Dennison sang with folk singer Jamie Barnes.
Anderson approached Estes about working together. Estes said, “We slowly peeled members and instruments away until we were left with just the voice. We decided on an A cappella trio and had a couple of people in mind, but then realized, who has a better voice than Rebecca? So we got together and sang in Suki's dining room and made animal noises until we had a band.”
In addition to more obvious vocal inspirations - The Staple Singers, The Pointer Singers, The Bulgarian Woman's Choir - the women have also been encouraged by composer Philip Glass, deep soul from Donny Hathaway to the Budos Band, and the experimentation of off-center pop artists like Bjork and Tom Waits.
They self-released a full-length live album, “Live at 21C,” recorded in the downtown hotel’s atrium, in 2009. Future goals include not only a studio album and touring, but also, according to Estes, “creating a silent movie soundtrack and forming a creepy choir.”
c. 2011 Velocity Weekly
Wednesday, March 09, 2011
Column #29: The Bonnaroo banner should help Forecastle
Previously on “Mid-Sized Middle-American City”: A young man with a dream throws a
music party in a park. More like a barbecue than Lollapalooza, it would grow into a major festival.
Last month, that young man saw his decade of hard work pay off, selling into the bigger and more successful Bonnaroo Festival of Tennessee.
Next year, the Forecastle Festival — the little festival that would — will be reborn as a Bonnaroo farm team. I, for one, am very happy about this development.
It's no secret to devoted readers that I have written about Captain J.K. McKnight and his Forecastle Festival before, and have committed the crime of suggesting that
some aspects of the fest were less than perfect. There is a difference between a
publicist and a critic, and my job was the latter.
There is also a difference between acting as though everything that is made here is
wonderful — like a parent with a 4-year-old who has learned to tie her own shoes —
and allowing for the possibility that you, me or the other guy might have room for
growth.
Forecastle, which I believe comes from the Native American word for “glowstick,” has
been very enjoyable at times. I have attended three of the festivals, bought art and enjoyed performances by many local bands as well as out-of-towners such as
Sleater-Kinney, Mucca Pazza and Girl Talk.
I haven't been since 2008. That summer, as the lineup became more diverse and a
mbitious, it also became (in my opinion) more schizophrenic and unfocused.
In this magazine, I wrote about that. What I said, for the record, was that I was looking forward to two-thirds of the bands, and less enthused about the remaining third.
Some folks, like the understandably frustrated Captain McKnight, were not
amused. Others were.
I haven't been back mostly because I'm less inclined today to spend a lot of money
to see bands that I like at 1, 4 and 10 p.m. while younger people all around me are
tweaking and tweeting, and having to leave and come back to ignore bands I don't
care about.
I want Forecastle to succeed, not merely try and fail. I want everybody in Louisville to succeed, and I want to like everything — don't you? It would certainly make my life more exciting. But as much as I would like to have the best of everything right outside my door, I don't always.
I am fortunate — in my neighborhood there's a great bakery, a great coffee shop,
some wonderful restaurants and about 109 bars. But when it comes to music festivals,
Forecastle is not yet up there with Lollapalooza, Pitchfork, Coachella or
Bonnaroo.
This new deal with the Bonnaroo folks should give the Captain and his merry crew
the resources to book bigger, better bands. Instead of a stale headliner like De
La Soul or what's left of Smashing Pumpkins, maybe now Louisville will now
be able to land a festival headliner like Radiohead or Eminem.
Will it stay in the concrete fields of downtown, or move to a farm so the
tourists can visit downtown museums without hearing DJs dropping banging club
beats nearby?
Who's going to come here that's never been? Will devoted music fans fly in from
overseas and discover a new love for bourbon? (I hope so — my wedding
reception alone converted a handful of people into bourbon lovers.)
I'm excited to wake up one day next year and hear all about the new model Forecastle. I think that it will be a good thing — a better thing — both for music
and for further proving that Louisville is a great place to live.
c. 2011 Velocity Weekly
music party in a park. More like a barbecue than Lollapalooza, it would grow into a major festival.
Last month, that young man saw his decade of hard work pay off, selling into the bigger and more successful Bonnaroo Festival of Tennessee.
Next year, the Forecastle Festival — the little festival that would — will be reborn as a Bonnaroo farm team. I, for one, am very happy about this development.
It's no secret to devoted readers that I have written about Captain J.K. McKnight and his Forecastle Festival before, and have committed the crime of suggesting that
some aspects of the fest were less than perfect. There is a difference between a
publicist and a critic, and my job was the latter.
There is also a difference between acting as though everything that is made here is
wonderful — like a parent with a 4-year-old who has learned to tie her own shoes —
and allowing for the possibility that you, me or the other guy might have room for
growth.
Forecastle, which I believe comes from the Native American word for “glowstick,” has
been very enjoyable at times. I have attended three of the festivals, bought art and enjoyed performances by many local bands as well as out-of-towners such as
Sleater-Kinney, Mucca Pazza and Girl Talk.
I haven't been since 2008. That summer, as the lineup became more diverse and a
mbitious, it also became (in my opinion) more schizophrenic and unfocused.
In this magazine, I wrote about that. What I said, for the record, was that I was looking forward to two-thirds of the bands, and less enthused about the remaining third.
Some folks, like the understandably frustrated Captain McKnight, were not
amused. Others were.
I haven't been back mostly because I'm less inclined today to spend a lot of money
to see bands that I like at 1, 4 and 10 p.m. while younger people all around me are
tweaking and tweeting, and having to leave and come back to ignore bands I don't
care about.
I want Forecastle to succeed, not merely try and fail. I want everybody in Louisville to succeed, and I want to like everything — don't you? It would certainly make my life more exciting. But as much as I would like to have the best of everything right outside my door, I don't always.
I am fortunate — in my neighborhood there's a great bakery, a great coffee shop,
some wonderful restaurants and about 109 bars. But when it comes to music festivals,
Forecastle is not yet up there with Lollapalooza, Pitchfork, Coachella or
Bonnaroo.
This new deal with the Bonnaroo folks should give the Captain and his merry crew
the resources to book bigger, better bands. Instead of a stale headliner like De
La Soul or what's left of Smashing Pumpkins, maybe now Louisville will now
be able to land a festival headliner like Radiohead or Eminem.
Will it stay in the concrete fields of downtown, or move to a farm so the
tourists can visit downtown museums without hearing DJs dropping banging club
beats nearby?
Who's going to come here that's never been? Will devoted music fans fly in from
overseas and discover a new love for bourbon? (I hope so — my wedding
reception alone converted a handful of people into bourbon lovers.)
I'm excited to wake up one day next year and hear all about the new model Forecastle. I think that it will be a good thing — a better thing — both for music
and for further proving that Louisville is a great place to live.
c. 2011 Velocity Weekly
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