Death of a Man, Birth of a Legend

I’ve often wondered why artists are so often under-appreciated during their lifetimes and only after death do they become truly legendary. For example, I’m betting there has been and will continue to be an appreciable spike in the sales of Isaac Hayes’s music this week.

I think the answer is that once an artist dies, then their story is finally written. The book is closed. Only after death can sense be made of their lives and a solid narrative arc constructed without fear of any unexpected alteration. The artist becomes a known and agreed-upon quantity, and their piece of the cultural puzzle is affixed to its proper place, forever.

Isaac Hayes (1942-2008)

One of the coolest individuals this planet has ever known died today. In addition to his role as Chef on South Park and as composer of the theme to “Shaft,” Isaac Hayes was also a hit maker for Stax Records in Memphis, writing Sam and Dave’s two biggest hits, “Hold On, I’m Coming” and “Soul Man,” among many, many others. He was also one of the first soul musicians to approach the album as an art form rather than as a compilation of singles with “Hot Buttered Soul” and the double-album “Black Moses.” In addition to his film work in “I’m Gonna Get You Sucka” and “Hustle and Flow” (not to mention the MST3K-worthy “Truck Turner”) he had recently completed filming the movie “Soul Men” with Samuel L. Jackson and Bernie Mac.

He collapsed today in his home. He was 65 years old.

I got the chance to meet him last summer in L.A. at the Hollywood Bowl. I now seriously regret not taking advantage of a mutual friend’s access to hang out more with this legendary gentleman.

I’d also like to clear up something about his departure from South Park. Isaac had suffered a stroke at the time, and his management had requested he be released from his contract. It was not Isaac’s decision, it was theirs.

Go download “Walk on By” (the 12 minute version) and find out what a master composer, arranger, and vocalist Isaac Hayes was. There aren’t many people left in the world who can truly be considered “legendary.” Now there’s one less.

The Lesson

Music history often bears unlikely fruit from strange seeds. I was amazed to discover recently that some of my favorite modern music – the audio collages of DJ Shadow and others who make albums purely from other albums – are part of a line that can be traced back to the novelty albums of the 1950’s by Buchanan & Goodman[1].

This fact was pointed out to me by underground hip-hop legend Steinski, in his recent interview with The Onion’s AV Club. He says:

“…certainly we’re in a direct line from these guys, from [Bill] Buchanan and [Dickie] Goodman. That would be probably the most obviously direct thing.”

This tripped me out because Dickie Goodman’s records were some of my favorite things to listen to as a kid. He made these odd singles where he’d interview folks and everything they would say would be a cut from a song. He made these records from the 1950s all the way into the 1980s, with my favorite being “Mr. Jaws.”

Despite not having any conventionally released albums, Steinksi’s impact is widespread among DJs and turntablists. His mid-80’s mashups set the stage for producers like Prince Paul to take the art of sampling to a new level. It’s entirely likely that you haven’t heard this cut before, but you’ve heard what has come after it (warning, this thing was mixed loud and is a bit distorted, sadly):

That 1985 track launched dozens of hit records from De La Soul’s Three Feet High and Rising to “Pump Up the Volume” by MARRS to “Bust a Move” by Young MC to “Turn This Mutha Out” by MC Hammer. There’s even a line in there from Dickie Goodman, a nod to his 1956 “Flying Saucer” single.

And so, going into the 1990s and 2000s, guys like DJ Shadow take that same concept and run with it, giving us stuff like this:

1.) In fact, if you want to get deeply granular into the history of hip-hop music, it probably starts with the fast-talking DJ’s of early rock radio. They were the DJs and MCs of rap pre-history.

Escape to Los Angeles

Here is the run-down on last week’s trip:

Tuesday – Landed, went up to this house where my cousin David‘s girlfriend was house-sitting. Turns out the house belongs to Hyde from That 70’s Show, and it used to belong to Chuck Berry. I touched a guitar signed by Chuck Berry! And I played bass by a hot tub in which I’m sure Mr. Berry committed felonies numerous and varied.

Wednesday – Went to the House of Blues to see two guitarists of whom I’ve been a big fan of since 9th grade but I’ve never seen them play live: Paul Gilbert and Richie Kotzen. And I was surrounded by LA guitar nerds, the ones who love to cross their arms and pontificate about who rules and who sucks. I’m glad I don’t live near them.

Thursday – David and I went to Amoeba Records to find my mom a Leonard Cohen DVD (she asked for it specifically because that’s how cool she is). Then we watched I Am Legend on David’s Blu-Ray hi-def wide-screen T-V and afterward we freaked out on Lost, ’cause it finally got back to Locke’s storyline.

Friday – I took the bus and walked all over town because I forgot that my Arkansas driver’s license expired in March. I let it because I figured, hey, when am I going to need to drive a car in NYC, right? Oops. Rental car agencies frown on expired licenses. I’ll get that taken care of next week, though. Anyway, I walked up La Brea, where I passed Jason Lee and his wife looking at furniture. I then had lunch at Barney’s Beanery where I sat a few booths over from Jason Schwartzman. After that I met up with my friend Meredith and we saw a really terrible band somewhere.

Saturday – Here’s a fun story. Some years ago my friend Randall gave me a CD by an Austrian guitarist named Alex Machacek (pronounced “MOCK-a-check”), and I became a big fan. He’s as underground as it gets, so few guitarists even know about him. To anyone else, he’s just another jazz-rock-fusion guitarist in LA, but to me he’s on a higher plane from pretty much every other guitar player I know. I’ve talked with him a few times via email and MySpace, and so last week I sent him a message asking him if he had any shows going on. He said he didn’t, but I was welcome to come over for coffee and hang out. So I did. He made me a couple fantastic cups of espresso and we talked about music and guitarists, and he gave me a guitar lesson. The whole thing really made me realize the dichotomy that is Los Angeles: most people freak out over meeting famous people, when perhaps they should be freaking out over truly phenomenal people – artists who do things few can, who push the boundaries of their craft, who represent the pinnacle of what can be achieved in a given medium. For musicians, Alex Machacek is such an individual. I uploaded one of his tunes to Muxtape, so check it out there. I don’t think I’ve mentioned Muxtape yet, so take a look at them, too. I have another playlist uploaded here.

That night, David and I went to see the LA Galaxy play the New York Red Bulls. I sat with the Riot Squad, the officially sanctioned corner of the stadium populated entirely by authentic football hooligans. Good times, even though the Galaxy lost. I told no one I was from NYC. For once it was better to say I’m from Arkansas.

Sunday – We went to see Rush in Irvine. I realize of course, as someone who is occasionally paid to write about rock music, that I am almost obligated to say that Rush sucks and progressive rock is a pox on the face of authentic rock and roll, but to that I say quite simply: Bite Me. If you can’t enjoy the refined Canadian flavor of Awesome that is Rush, then you can’t enjoy anything in life without wondering if someone is going to think you’re uncool.

Monday – Flew home. Took all day. Special note to Virgin Airlines: the little TVs in the seats are nice but $7 to see a movie on a tiny screen with headphones? $8 for airline food? No sale.
At least give me a bag of peanuts or something!

Here are some other photographic highlights from the trip:

Pink’s Hot Dogs are apparently spectacular
Billy Bob at Guitar Center?
Giant Magnatone amp on Sunset
The biggest Indiana Jones poster ever
99 Cent Store window display
Very old candy
Old Simpsons promo statues
Vintage Film editing console
Vintage Coca-Cola machine
GORT!
German Muppets
Bungalows
The 50’s live on…
…in Culver City
Refurbishing LAX

The Restorative Properties of Music

As many of you know, I’ve been under a great deal of pressure these last few months. I can honestly say it’s been the worst few months of my life. Of course, that’s not saying much. Every time I complain about my job, someone trumps me: my roommate had a friend in Tennessee who was recently murdered, my friend Holly recently adopted a puppy only to watch it run into traffic and be torn apart, and my friend Arika has severe back pain that makes life difficult for her being the mother of two very young children. So the universe continually presents me with healthy doses of perspective. If this has been the worst few months of my life, then my life is still pretty damn good.

Still, it’s all relative. I put in my notice at work. I have some other offers, but I’ll wait and see how they pan out before I say too much about them. My posts will most likely continue to be rare in the coming months. I will be back in Arkansas May 20-29 for Riverfest, though.

Meanwhile, here is a song that continues to lift my spirits.

I just noticed that, as of today, if you look at my Last.fm tunes in the right column, you’ll see this song, “Nine in the Afternoon,” displayed three times.

Ode to Huey Lewis and the News

I was recently presented with a copy of The Best of Huey Lewis and the News. Before I go any further, I should say that my earliest musical influence, before I ever became a musician, was this group. I had all their tapes, and from about 5th to 8th grade they were a constant presence in my Walkman – as I walked home up Nicholson Avenue from Central Elementary, as I rode my bike or walked to the Quail Tree swimming pool, or just hanging out in my room at home. As I began playing guitar and buying CDs, though, I largely left them behind. My focus shifted to guitar wizardry and heavy rock. I never went back and bought their albums on CD, with the exception of 1991’s Hard at Play. I did write Huey Lewis a letter once, and he sent me an autographed picture.

Now I have the hits on CD, and a DVD of their best videos comes with the disc as well. Suddenly I am reminded how much their tunes are encoded in my musical DNA. They are the sound of summer for me. They were there at the swimming pool, on the TV in the snack bar, on the radio at the river, everywhere. Only now, as I’ve grown to become a musician who appreciates pure pop music composed with melodic elegance and recorded with a colorful balance of tones, do I realize that they were so much more than the 80’s cheese that so many people assumed them to be. Granted I may be painting with a rosy nostalgic brush here, but I really think this is a group whose music still stands the test of time. Here I am, 15 years later, listening to their tunes and marveling at the economy of language in the lyrics, the balance between jazzy tonalities in the sax lines and the post-punk guitar energy, and the not-too-glossy sparkle of the recordings. There are a lot of big acts from the 80’s whose songs I am no longer impressed with, who made crud that I feel like I could somewhat approximate on my own. By contrast, I find myself listening to the News and thinking, “how did they do that? I could never do that.” [1]

Their music is simple but not simplistic. Like another huge 80’s act from the Bay Area, Journey, the roots of the News lie in various jazz and funk bands. Critics love to dismiss jazzers who condescend to writing pop tunes[2], but there is an art to writing a succinct, economical pop tune. It comes naturally to some folks, as simple people can often write great simple songs, but I’m always more impressed by the artists who have everything at their disposal (canvas, palette, technique), and can still deliver something elegant and concise[3]. I just realized that this is particularly the case with yet another Bay Area band, a band who has gone on to become probably my favorite group of all time: Jellyfish.

It would seem I’ve come full circle, then, from one group who wrote sunny pop confections to another. Maybe I should move to the Bay Area….

1.) Other acts I’ve only recently come to appreciate in the same fashion: Tears for Fears, Hall and Oates and INXS.
2.) In fact, rock critics like to dismiss anyone who is musically smarter than they are, because the general profile of a rock writer is someone who couldn’t even succeed at making rock music, let alone jazz.
3.) As well as something grandiose and ambitious (Yes, Queen, Dream Theater).

Guitar to the Rescue

I stayed home from work today because everything below my esophagus is kaput. OK, it’s not that bad, but my digestive system has caught the office bug, in addition to suffering almost 3 weeks of nervous stress. I’ve been on edge every day, not sleeping well, and assuming it will go away as I get a better handle on things. But as I get a better handle on things, I realize how much is in front of me.

I’ve always been the type of worker who has a personal stake in my performance. I want to please people, and when they’re not pleased, I internalize that. But I need to let it go. I need to separate the business from the personal. So today I got some rest, and tried to get my mind off work. I tried meditating, but I’m not good enough at it to completely clear my head. Tonight I was reminded of what works for me: guitar practice. I haven’t really funneled heavy stress into practicing in a long time. I played for about two hours and it really helped. In addition to helping me let go of everything, it also improves my chops. My Eric Johnson strat is a great guitar for practicing like this because it’s not so easy to play. It puts up a fight, and that’s even better.

I can’t say the stress is gone for good, but I can say that I’ve found a workable way to decompress. I don’t know how you regular humans do it without a musical instrument.

Attention New York Musicians

Stop using the word “bear” in your bands’ names. I was just perusing a recent issue of The Deli, and there were two features right next to each other of the young bands Bearclaws and Bear Hands. A few pages later a two-page spread on Lucinda Black Bear. And there’s a band from New England called Big Bear, in addition to Brooklyn’s Grizzly Bear, who I think can safely be credited with starting this thing. Stop the madness!

Interestingly enough it took an Arkansas band to make me sensitive to this trend. Bear Colony, whom I’ve written about for Localist, chose their name after their previous moniker, Brothers + Sisters, was already taken.