Mellencamp, Idol, and the end of everything.

I was recently forwarded this piece by musician John Mellencamp (John Mellencamp,  Musician and Activist http://www.huffingtonpost.com/john-mellencamp/on-my-mind-the-state-of-t_b_177836.html)
and I found it so interesting that I thought I would comment. The points that resonated most with me, were the idea that the music industry has sold out its original mission out for financial concerns. He makes the point that the music industry has gotten so turned upside down that what was once a mechanism to bring people the music they liked, has turned into a hoax on the public to force them to listen to the music that the labels can make the most money with. By controlling the forces of radio and reporting, the industry now dictates what will be popular rather than trying to understand what people want. I can think of no greater example of this than American Idol. What was once a serious art form (think “Blonde On Blonde” or “Kind Of Blue” or “London Calling”) has become a bad Vegas routine. If in the 60’s someone had told me that public taste would be shaped by something that resembled the old “Merv Griffin Show” I wouldn’t have believed it. Seriously, the level of schmaltz that the viewing public has embraced and the record labels have jumped on board in the guise of American Idol is appalling. All originality, youthful energy and creativity has been replaced with easy-listening versions of old hits. And if I bring it up in public, people look at me like I’m crazy. When the industry stopped trying to figure out what the kids liked and started to dictate what the kids SHOULD like, we lost something big.
The other point he made that I really identify with is something I talk about all the time. It is the loss of regionalism in our country. I recently saw “Cadillac Records” a not great, but pretty good movie about the birth of Chess records, the Chicago label that defined the regional merger of Blues, R&B and Rock and Roll and thus changed the face of modern music. It is safe to say the Beatles and Stones would have sounded a lot different if there had been no Chess records. It is also true to say, that, in today’s environment, there is no chance that a world changing music form could be launched off the streets of one town. Now, things never grow organically or by serious word-of-mouth. Even on the internet, almost every break-out has the dirty fingerprints of some king-maker on them.
So what can we do about it? Probably nothing. As Mellencamp says in his piece, he isn’t really sure what can be done-he just asks people to wake up and recognize what is happening around them. I’m not the biggest Mellencamp fan in the world, but let me just say: hear hear John, hear hear. Let’s try and remember what the thrill of music was all about. American Idol is the opposite of that thrill. It is the predictable crap that I would see on daytime TV when I was home sick as a kid. --Paul Epstein

Three Old Goats make good

Jeff Beck - Performing This Week…Live At Ronnie Scott’s

Jeff Beck has had a very unusual career. His total unwillingness to play the “major-label game” has allowed him the freedom to make uncompromising albums that shun commercial success in favor of experimental, guitar-geek fetish fests. He makes albums for guitar players and the kooks who love them. Unlike his contemporaries he has never lost his chops (Page) or his edge (Clapton), and is beyond criticism in many ways. He pioneered a style of playing that nobody else can touch. His precision and taste remain intact and he has done nothing to embarrass himself or tarnish his reputation. The main complaint his fans have had with him has always been his reluctance to put stuff out and tour. They just can’t get enough of their man.

Performing This Week goes a long way toward rectifying that. This CD and DVD (sold separately) capture a week of exquisite performances at the famous and famously small club in London.
Beck wastes no time in shredding through some of his most exciting material from throughout his long career. Opening with “Beck’s Bolero” it is obvious he is a guitar player still at the top of his game. There are no low points in this two-hour show and the high points are many. Clapton joins for two songs and the two of them wailing away together will give chills. He is also joined by Joss Stone for “People Get Ready” and Imogen Heap for a couple of numbers as well. The real excitement though is reserved for the Beck and his jaw-dropping band. Drummer Vinnie Colaiuta is simply one of the best ever. It is hard to choose between drummer and band leader when listening. There is such an abundance of notes and technically brilliant playing it is overwhelming at times. One has to remember that Beck’s commercial and artistic zenith came with Blow by Blow and Wired. Those two albums in many ways defined “Jazz-Rock” and certainly gave the genre its finest examples. Beck’s band plays as much like Mahavishnu Orchestra as they do The Yardbirds. Bass player Tal Wilkenfeld is also worth mentioning. Young, beautiful and sublimely talented, she is the perfect musical and visual foil for Beck. She is no flash in the pan either. Her soloing is spot-on throughout, and her confidence on stage promises a long career.
Longtime fans of Beck will be gratified at how intact and exciting his abilities are, and newcomers will wonder this guy doesn’t get more credit.


Van Morrison - Astral Weeks Live

Known as a tough, non-nostalgic curmudgeon, it was a surprise to everyone that he would be revisiting his legendary first major album in a live setting. This seemed like a very un-Van thing to do. He has never been interested in doing what his fans or critics wanted or expected of him. He has long avoided playing much of his most beloved record in concert and has publicly downplayed its greatness. He has always given his songbook equal billing in his live concerts, favoring his more recent material at many of them. As the band kicks off the opening title track it sounds as though he has put together a very tight band (including original guitarist Jay Berliner) that will do a satisfactory job of recreating the album. However, as the song reaches its natural ending, Van launches into a hypnotic improv vocal piece called “I Believe I’ve Transcended” that takes off to that rare Celtic ether that only Morrison is able to visit and talk about. The band follows him and what could have been an exercise in nostalgia or worse, cash-in, becomes a new and beautiful artistic statement. Over the course of the entirety of Astral Weeks and a couple of other choice numbers, Morrison goes outside the confines of the song again and again, reaching for a new musical triumph from the shadows of an old one. Unbelievably he succeeds beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. It is worth noting that the vinyl contains one more song (“Gloria”) than the CD. There is also a DVD coming of this show.


Leonard Cohen - Live In London

Unlike Van Morrison, Leonard Cohen has not only not played his old songs live, he hasn’t played ANY songs live for years. Through the misfortunes of a crooked manager, he has found himself in the position of having to tour in order at age 73 to have living expenses. Although one would not wish this on anyone, his many fans are the winners here as he puts together a wonderfully sympathetic 9-piece band to present his music in a beautiful and triumphant three-hour concert that shows him to be less reluctant retiree than eminence gris. He tackles his often dire material with the lighthearted touch of a man at home in his own skin. Throughout the long program Cohen seems both appreciative that he has such a large and adoring audience after all this time, and comfortable with the greatness of his own material which is brought to life magnificently through his well-preserved rumble of a voice and the great playing of his band. It is hard to downplay the excitement that is evident in the band and the audience. Everybody knows how special and rare this is, and everyone - especially Leonard Cohen - rises to the occasion.

The Digital Eye

Peter Tosh - The Ultimate Peter Tosh Experience
Wow, what an unexpected mind-blower. It was a thrill to see such an ambitious Peter Tosh project released at this late date - but that it is so beautifully packaged and so loaded with cool stuff you have never seen or heard made for one really great day off. I spent most of my day watching and listening to all three discs and reading the intelligently written booklet. Tosh was singular among Reggae stars. He had similar gifts of songwriting, singing and playing as his former partner Bob Marley, but was also armed with a far more militant and mystical set of beliefs. Tosh courted controversy and danger everywhere he went. Whether it was his unwavering commitment to equal rights for all Blacks and a return to Africa, or his very public advocacy and use of herb, or his calling on the carpet politicians, record producers and other scoundrels and thieves from the stages of the world, Tosh was an intense man living on the razor’s edge at all times.

Lavishly boxed, the contents include the full-length documentary called Stepping Razor-Red X. This movie, which has floated around in lesser quality for a number of years, is the definitive look at Peter Tosh, the man and the musician. Riveting concert footage is interspersed with interviews with Tosh and those who knew him. The movie’s life-affirming musical sequences are always tinged with darkness, for the shocking reality of Tosh’s murder at the hands of acquaintances has left a trail of sadness and conspiracy theory that lasts until today. Red X is compelling on every level, and will leave you running to your collection to put on Legalize It immediately. The second DVD is a collection of concert clips of Tosh at various stages in his career. If you never saw Peter Tosh it will be a revelation what an immense and charismatic man he was. Rail thin and way over 6 feet, he cut an imposing figure on stage. His shows were laced with challenge-filled raps to the audience (which could last for many minutes when he got on a roll). When the music plays though, he is totally engaged and engaging. You will see him menacingly wave a saber over his head, play his machine-gun shaped guitar, dance like a wild man, and calmly and brilliantly discuss his philosophy in interview segments with Wailers scholar Roger Steffens.

The final disc is a CD containing cross-section of rare and classic recordings by Tosh. There were a few things I didn’t have including some cool dub mixes, but it won’t take the place of owning the entire catalog of this important and beguiling artist. Watching these videos will remind you what an important artist he was.


Phish - The Clifford Ball
In the annals of music film history, one can point to very few examples of an actual turning point in history being captured at the moment it happens. Woodstock was big, Monterey of course. Gimme Shelter caught the moment the rarified air of the 1960’s went out of the balloon and the ideals of an entire generation lay there on the ground like so much crumpled rubber. Most often however, the process is more similar to a Ken Burns documentary. Directors find appropriate stills and footage from around the time to reconstruct what it must have been like. In the hands of a master this can be thrilling, but often the viewer finds himself thinking “I wish they had footage of the actual event.”

Phish’s two concerts in Plattsburgh, New York in 1996 which they called The Clifford Ball capture the exact moment when a home-grown Vermont jam band with a rabid cult following hit the big time. Put on Disc 1 and watch as the band walks on stage to a crowd twice as large as they had ever played before and see the thrilled awe on their faces as they and the audience recognize at the same moment “We made the big time!” It is palpable on screen as they launch into the first of six amazing sets of music that the band has crossed over from obscurity to fame and are the masters of their environment. Each set has its own special charms, and some of them - like the second set the second day - have some extraordinary jamming but it is that first set the first day when the band plays with such exuberance and awareness of the moment that I love best. The set-ending “David Bowie” is just as good as it gets. The band is on top of the world and the wonder of the moment is played across their faces throughout. Disc 7 contains a bunch of documentary material as well as the fabled “parking lot jam” with the band playing on a flat-bed truck that circles the campground at 4 in the morning. Like all the music played that weekend it is a cut above the norm and there is a unique ambience on stage and in the audience that makes this one unforgettable keepsake of one of THE great weekends of Phish.

Les Claypool at the Fillmore 14 March, 2009

At this point, I've lost count of how many times I've seen Les Claypool live. Between Primus, Sausage, Oysterhead and his various solo incarnations it's been at least 20 times over the years. Even with all of those various ensembles and configurations his current touring lineup might just be the most intriguing yet. Joined by frequent cohorts Mike Dillon on percussion and Paulo Baldi on drums, the quartet was rounded out by cellist Sam Bass. That's right, a cellist. While Claypool's distinctive bass gave the ensemble a familiar grounding, the unusual lineup had more of an old-time theatrical flair.

And theatrics was definitely the name of the game on this tour. Dubbed The Oddity Faire, the tour featured a circus theme with sideshow performers entertaining in between sets of the multiple support acts. First on the bill were Secret Chiefs 3, who I was almost as excited to see as the headliners. Led by ex-Mr. Bungle guitarist Trey Spruance, the Chiefs dress in black robes and play middle eastern flavored rock with elements of thrash, electronica and various other influences. They are an extremely talented group and I certainly hope they come back for a headlining show soon as 30 minutes was not nearly enough. Poet-rapper Saul Williams followed in his glammed-out Niggy Tardust guise. The Yard Dogs Road Show provided the peak of the theatrics with their burlesque-cabaret performance.

Finally, the headliners took the stage, Les leading his mates through a spirited rendition of the Primus tune "Fisticuffs." The setlist touched on material from all of his solo releases included the brand new Of Fungi and Foe. There was a surprise guest midway through the set in the form of former Frog Brigade guitarist Eanor, who joined the band for an amazing cover of King Crimson's "Thela Hun Ginjeet," easily the highlight of the evening. Midway through the set was the now-customary drums-percussion showcase, with Les joining in on his unique one-stringed instrument dubbed the Whamola. The night was topped off with an encore of Black Sabbath's "Electric Funeral," the headbanging classic given a chamber-rock makeover that delighted the packed house. Once again, Les Claypool delivered an evening of superb musicianship and entertainment.

- Adam Reshotko

Raphael Saadiq at the Bluebird, 10th March, 2009

Tuesday night several Twist & Shout folks were treated to a terrific show by Raphael Saadiq. He and his band (four instrumentalists, two backing singers) took over the Bluebird Theater for a full-on soul revue of his hits (both solo and with Tony Toni Tone) and a generous portion of his great new album, The Way I See It. As the band hit the stage, the crowd was obviously loving the moment, excited and geared up for the show. Two backing singers – one male, one female – entered in matching suits and Saadiq took the stage in a fine pastel green suit and picked up a guitar for the first number. I was a little bummed that his guitar didn’t feature much more in the night, but given that he traded multi-tasking for a terrific vocal performance, I can’t really complain. Besides, it’s not like he didn’t have another guitar player to take care of things – the four-piece band was flawless, performing really tight versions of the music and concentrating on recreating the ambience of the studio versions without being tied down to making exact copies on stage. Band stayed tight in the back while Raphael and his backing singers carried the front line with charisma, with energy and with great voices across the line. A beautiful night of music overall and I know I saw a bunch of our regulars there – hope you enjoyed it as much as we did, though I can’t imagine the person who wouldn’t have enjoyed this.

What Are You Listening to Lately (Part 12)?

King Sunny Ade – Juju Music
At first I didn't love this one the way I do now - subtler dynamics and a hook value somewhat lower than Ade and Martin Meissonier's subsequent outings for Island meant that it took longer to sink in. But after much acclimatization to Sunny Ade's catalog, it's easier to hear how this fits in as a particularly brilliant sampler of what he was doing around the time on his own before Meissonier put his hands in and added some Western touches to attune it more to the Euro-American sensibilities they hoped to hook into. Not too much though - this one's a good halfway point between the uncut Juju that brought Ade to fame and fortune in his native Nigeria and throughout Western Africa and the more pointedly Western stuff that failed to break him on a Marley-like scale Stateside and in Europe. All songs are good to great - more consistent than Synchro System if not quite as dynamic and about equal to the overall quality of much more Euro-African synthesis of the great and underrated Aura (though this one's way more Afro- than Euro-). "Ja Funmi" is one of the highest points I've heard in his catalog, kicking the album off right. And it never lets up afterward, even if the dense synthesizer forest of "Sunny Ti De Ariya" and the English lyrics of "365 Is My Number/The Message" are the only times afterward that it really makes major marks as standout tunes again. But it's high quality across the board, even if it sometimes - here's that subtlety again - doesn't exactly stand up and announce the differences in tracks. There isn't a part of this I don't enjoy at any time of day or night, especially when it's played loud (as it should be).

Miles Davis – The Musings of Miles
A really interesting and a unique, if not wholly exciting, item in the Miles catalog for a few reasons. First - it's from just before his triumphant return to public form at the Newport Festival in 1955 and shows him working at the peak of his 1950's style. Second - it's on the cusp of the formation of his First Quintet and has all the stylistic marks of that era of his development. Third - great song selection and pacing, starting with mid-tempo and ballad numbers then slowly speeding up over the course of the record and closing again with a nice ballad. Fourth, and most importantly - it's a quartet, just Miles and rhythm. There is nowhere else in his entire catalog where you get to hear him so nakedly and clearly without another horn drawing your interest away (especially since he had such a knack for picking really great players to work alongside him). But back to song selection a moment, where I'd like to point out his very interesting "A Night in Tunisia," in which Miles craftily dodges the part where every saxophone player has to take on "the famous alto break" if they're gonna tackle the song, and Miles just slyly makes it his own, giving a nod to Charlie Parker and then doing his own thing with it. As much as I enjoy the rest of the record, a good if not outstanding one in the catalog, this is the highlight. And it's that not-outstanding-ness of the rest of the record that keeps it hovering somewhere better than good, but not quite great. It's all well-done, it's all enjoyable, but only on "Tunisia" does it blindside you with surprises, even if I dig his Monk-answer "I Didn't" and other parts quite a bit.

Funkadelic – Let’s Take It to the Stage
George Clinton and Co. are rarely perfect at album length. Their best ones always leave you a spot or two where you can run to the kitchen and get the snacks; where you'll skip to the next track; where you won't bother ripping some songs to your Ipod; and this one is no exception. That said, I enjoy it all even if not all equally. I count four great ones and six lesser ones, including the lengthy Bernie Worrell organ and synth workout with George's dirty mouth embedded deep down in the intro. But the overall mood is great; off the cuff nasty, funky, funny, soulful, rocking - everything you'd ask of these guys (and gals). And it's perhaps the best representation of their late-Westbound period; the point where they'd given up on the extended druggy drones of the early albums but had not yet achieved the slicker sound of their Warner Bros. years. It starts out great, hits another winner with the utterly un-P.C. "No Head No Backstage Pass," scores a classic to close the A with "Get Off Your Ass And Jam" and then opens the B with the almost Gothic-metal "Baby I Owe You Something Good." These four great ones are surrounded by fun, by funk, and by as solid an outing as they'd make under the name Funkadelic (and yes, I'm including Maggot Brain) or would make until One Nation Under A Groove. Pretty great, but not perfect - and isn't that more or less what you'd expect from George?

Independent spirit looms large.

Two weeks ago I went to Nashville to attend the yearly convention of CIMS (The Coalition of Independent Music Stores). This year we were joined by AIMS (The Alliance of Independent Media Stores), thus a large percentage of the great record stores left in the country were represented. One would have thought that this would have been a gloom and doom filled week in bummersville, but it was completely the opposite. In fact it was an amazingly uplifting blast. Here was a group of retailers who are not only facing the same economic downturn that everyone else is suffering, but are also in a business that is suffering a period of severe turmoil. What I found was a group of super-smart, brave, tenacious music fanatics who are determined to remain of value to their respective communities. And community was indeed the common denominator in almost every aspect of this gathering. During the day we sat together and openly discussed our stores, how to best conduct business, the future of music and most importantly we shared the specific and subtle ways we have each become part of the fabric of our home towns.

At Twist and Shout we have been very lucky to live in a great music community. We have always had an embarrassment of riches in the concert department including the greatest outdoor venue in the country: Red Rocks. We have a strong local scene that is right now at its strongest ever, and we have sort of taken for granted all the musicians, journalists, politicians, and just plain cool folks who regularly shop in our store. What I learned was that every independent store has the same story. Each one of them has quietly become part of the town’s heartbeat. By offering an egalitarian social outpost that caters to all who love music, the record store has become one of the few genuine “town square” experiences left in America. Unlike work or parties or sporting events, at the record store, everyone is just themselves. I have often posited that people come to the record store to validate their own identity. I know for me, in my formative years of record collecting, the experience of finding a record that I thought I would never find was a life-affirming thrill. “I can’t believe they have this! I was looking for this! How did they know?” It was great to think that there might be someone else like me out there. Each in his or her own way, the gathered record store owners have tried to contain that emotional reality in a brick and mortar shell for all to share. To sit in a room with a bunch of people who have this experience in common and hear how they have each uniquely fit into their own communities was fascinating and inspirational.

As if to make solid this very ethereal and smoke-like concept, we discussed the second annual Record Store Day. I think it is fair to say that last year everybody in the music business was blown away by the fun and excitement that surrounded this celebration of the idea and reality of the record store. There were musical performances, and sales, and more special CDs and records than you could shake a stick at. Each store tries to make this day a memorable event for employees and customers alike, and this year is shaping up to be huge. There are very limited releases from some HUGE artists that I think will excite people and motivate them to get in on that day.

Also on everyone’s mind was the imminent launch of the independent community’s digital solution. In the next couple of weeks we will have our own download store with the great music you find in our store everyday, as well as some exciting exclusive stuff you won’t find at other download sites. I don’t think a few years ago I would have believed it if you had told me that vinyl and downloads would be competing for my attention in day to day business, but there you go. Vinyl is experiencing a jaw-dropping resurgence, and downloads are taking their place as one of the ways serious music lovers consume music. People want it all, and we are trying to give it to ‘em.

In addition to all this heavy business stuff, we found lots of time to party and see music. Among the highlights was a series of shows at an amazing store called Grimey’s. Not only do they have a really cool record store in a house, but, in the basement of that house was a venue where they have concerts all the time. We saw great sets by a bunch of acts, but my favorites were a rousing set of screaming gospel-rhythm and blues from Mike Farris, a hypnotic singer/stand-up bass player named Amy Lavere, and the house being brought down by the legendary Del McCoury. If you like Bluegrass, you love Del.

Much of the best stuff comes after the shows though, when a bunch of record store owners get together in hotel rooms, get crazy and really talk about stuff. Unfortunately, I am bound by the limits of my own damaged memory and the 5th amendment to not repeat those stories... …yet.

Scott Walker - 30th Century Man

Perhaps the recent Scottumentary 30th Century Man, will answer some of these burning questions-

Why are people so obsessed with someone most people have never heard of?

Why, in the 90s, did English tabloid giant The Sun offer a cash prize for anyone to take a recent photograph of Scott?

Why would anyone care?

Why did Scott's group The Walker Brothers have more members in its fan club than that of the Beatles?

Why did Scott quit this group and join a monastery?

Why did Scott sing songs by Flemish art songsmith Jacques Brel on prime time TV?

Why and how did Scott sell records to teenagers and housewives, with lyrics based on Bergman films and Camus novels?

Why have Scott's albums in the last 25 years been utterly and impenetrably weird?

Why do David Bowie, Brian Eno, Radiohead and Jarvis Cocker love Scott so much?

Why did Julian Cope release a compilation of Scott tracks subtitled “the godlike genius of...”?

How is it possible for Scott to look so good at 65?

Why are Scott's solo albums from the 60s considered by many intelligent people to be among the great works of art of the 20th century?

What does “stump of a drowner” really mean?

Go and see 30th Century Man (Playing at the Starz FilmCenter March 6 – 12) and find out.

Note - Twist & Shout's Twisted Spork Club Card members can get 2-for-1 tickets by presenting their Club Card at Starz Film Center.

SCOTT WALKER: 30 CENTURY MAN Directed by Stephen Kijak (USA/UK, 2007, 35mm, 95min)

Official website: http://www.scottwalkerfilm.com/blog/

Showtimes and more: http://www.denverfilm.org/filmcenter/detail.aspx?id=22437

What's in the Bin? - February 26th, 2009

One of the sheer joys of being in an indie record store is browsing the bins. Just starting somewhere, flipping through things, pulling out items that catch your eye, giving a few of them a test spin. So in the seventh of a hypothetical series, I've browsed the "New Arrivals" bins here at Twist & Shout, picked out a few things, and gave them a listen. The nature of used record stores being what it is, I can't promise these items will still be in the bin by the time you get here. But hey, browse the bin anyway. You might find something else of worth.


CD - Rod Stewart - The Definitive Rod Stewart
There's a certain type of Rod Stewart fan. Those who, when they first hear the words "Rod Stewart", immediately flash onto songs like "Handbags and Glad Rags." Who still think of Rod as "that guy from the Faces."

Those fans probably don't need me to tell them this, but they're gonna want avoid this disc like the plague.

For the rest of us, this two-CD set is about as good a collection as you're bound to get. It obviously uses the pop singles chart as a basic guide, so there's a lot more MTV hits than "classic early sides." But I don't consider than necessarily a bad thing. Yeah, I understand that, oh, "An Old Raincoat Will Never Let You Down" is a "better" song than, say, "Some Guys Have All the Luck." Yeah, "Tonight I'm Yours (Don't Hurt Me)" is a really dumb song. The lyrics are horribly contrived even from a "let's have a one night stand" perspective, the weird high-pitched "whoo"s at the end sound like a four-year-old girl on a roller coaster, and the synth lines were already sounding dated back when the song came out in 1981. But you know what? I still like the damn thing. I recall watching the I-guess-this-is-sexy video back in the day, and wanting a neat shiny pink vinyl jacket and visor combo like Rod sported. And I wanted to have a fun bikini-clad party at a Best Western, too, culminating with me pushing my guitarist into the swimming pool at the end of the night. These are the sorts of weird but fun memories that "Raincoat" just can't deliver. Pile on top of that all the memories (or baggage) concerned with "Young Turks" and "Tonight's the Night (Gonna Be Alright)" and all the rest, and you might understand why I'd drag this CD off the rack more often than Every Picture Tells a Story.

No, of course the collection isn't "definitive." There's that obligatory "new" song at the end that isn't worth much. And even I think it gives the early years short shrift. And there's a lot of later stuff that I don't really need to hear. But then again, there's probably a guy about ten years younger than me who has similarly weird memories about "Rhythm of My Heart" and "Downtown Train" to those I have about "Passion." In which case, good for him.


LP - Neil Norman & His Cosmic Orchestra - Greatest Science Fiction Hits (Volumes 1 & 2)
Neil Norman has a pretty odd gig. Well, he's a bigwig at GRP/Crescendo Records (the home of these two recordings), but it's his other gig that's the real strange one. Imagine going to a science-fiction convention (or, if you've actually done this, think back to your last visit). Now imagine a group of people in silvery spacesuits, playing lounge-y/future-y versions of classic sci-fi themes. Well, the head guy in silver is Neil Norman. That's his gig. Playing sci-fi songs at sci-fi conventions, and anywhere else there's a market for guys in silver spacesuits playing sci-fi songs. And Neil's been doing it for almost three decades.

These two LPs are from the start of his career, and it pretty much set the stage for what came after. It was as the 70s gave way to the 80s, and Star Wars found a much larger audience for sci-fi than anyone thought possible. On each LP, Neil works this to his advantage, performing arrangements of various sci-fi tunes. The track selection is rather broad - it ranges from the obvious ("Close Encounters") to the obscure ("Phantom Planet") to the bizarre ("Can You Read My Mind" from Superman), and he even finds time to perform a couple of originals ("Not of This Earth," "Vampire Planet") that fit in quite well. The term "Orchestra" may be a bit of a stretch, but he does have fourteen musicians credited, so it's certainly more than just "a guy and his keyboard." And how does it sound? Well, as good as it possibly can, I guess. The band is quite good, the tunes are often deftly arranged, and Neil even adds some killer guitar solos here and there. But, you know, it still comes down to that basic fact - these are future-y versions of classic sci-fi themes. There seems to be some limit as to how high this stuff can climb. To his credit, Neil generally gets to that point, even if he can't transcend it. I think these albums would make great background music for a fun party. Assuming your friends have a bit of a sense of humor, anyway.


12" - Earons - "Land of Hunger"
The 80s nostalgia kick seems to be ending, which is fine. Not that I didn't love the 80s and all, but I've gotten to the point where my memories of the Flock of Seagulls are more of people talking about how dumb Mike Score's haircut in the "Space Age Love Song" video looked than they are of...well, "Space Age Love Song." And that's why it's fun to come across a song or band that really wasn't touched by the 80s nostalgia kick.

And yes, I'm totally aware that I'm about to ruin that for this song. Pretty meta. Anyway.

The Earons were yet another new wave band with a gimmick, but theirs was at least simple to set up and maintain. In the genre where image was at least as important as substance, the Earons went with a "non-image." The band only appeared in white jumpsuits and motorcycle helmets, and individual members were to be referred only by number. (The lead vocalist? 28.) The music's pretty good - a reggae-influenced synth-based dance song with "aware" lyrics. Three versions of that song might be a bit of overkill, but considering that this song isn't one you stumble across on "Best of the 1980s" albums, it's probably worth picking up. The song did hit number one on the dance chart in 1984, but the band was pretty well forgotten a year later. But that's what makes the song so fun. Everyone remembers "Come On Eileen," and not everyone is going to instantly remember the tune. However, this IS the sort of song that will make some people stop, open their eyes wide, and say "Oh YEAH!" And that's always a fun feeling.

Otis Taylor interviewed by Paul Epstein

Otis Taylor is a study in paradox. He is an immense, imposing man physically, yet he rarely speaks above a whisper. When we had lunch recently to conduct an interview about Black History Month, he had to repeat every single word he said to the waiter. It is common to see people leaning forward trying to understand him. He has a sophisticated understanding of antiques, being a successful dealer for years(specializing in Indian blankets), yet he favors a low brow lifestyle. “I don’t want any ‘salad-mexican food.’ Take me somewhere where they use hamburger meat.” He has a keen understanding of the history of music in all its forms, but he favors a hypnotic, primitive form of roots music that defies the Blues categorization he is tagged with. He has created his own language of music, such as Fela Kuti or John Lee Hooker did, completely unique to himself and answerable only to his own aesthetic desire. In other words, Otis doesn’t give a fuck what anybody thinks - never has, never will. As a musician, as a citizen, as a human he marches to his own beat. So, as we ate our Mexican food, the paradoxical Black Man with blue eyes answered my questions about Black History Month the way he saw fit.

Paul: How different is being Black in America in 2009 compared to when you, your father or your grandfather were kids?
Otis: Well the good part is we are freer. The bad part is we fear our own people...gangbangers etc.

P: What do you think the current Black legacy on the arts is compared to 50 or 100 years ago?
O: Now you can speak your mind versus 100 years ago when a Black man couldn’t say a fuckin’ thing. The legacy is freedom. This White or Black thing, it’s all crap...it’s colorblind. In my case, I just didn’t know any better. I had no fear of failure.
I’m the guy who left the village a thousand years ago. I’m a genetic outliner.

P: Do you have an obligation to tell the story and keep the memories alive?
O: No, it’s just my experience. Hungry people can be White, Black, Russian...it doesn’t matter. Some of my better songs are about White people.

P: What about the legacy of the Blues?
O: I don’t know much about the Blues, but I’m good at being Black. I’m not a fuckin’ historian, I’m just old. And I’m not bitter, it’s just my reaction to life. I’m outspoken so I piss everybody off. I’ve been able to succeed by being obscure. Like my Banjo album (Recapturing The Banjo - Taylor’s critically lauded traditional Banjo album) I wasn’t disappointed that it got no attention. The critics loved it, but that’s the kiss of death. The movie people are starting to take me seriously. (Taylor refers to some soundtrack work he has been doing).

P: Are you part of the Blues continuum?
O: In my mind yes.

P: Are you the “other” or in your mind are you a part of American mainstream life?
O: I’m always Black. If you’re White and you see me it’s “Oh shit who’s that.”

P: Yet you live in one of the Whitest places on Earth. (Boulder, CO.)
O: I wasn’t getting out of Black culture, I was getting’ out of Dodge, you know what I mean? It was like the Irish got out of Ireland. Money follows money. Black people are tight with their money because they never had nothing, so they are tight with their money. I didn’t leave my experience behind, you take the best things from all cultures through your own filter. My childhood was fucked up. I got outta dodge.

P: Describe what Barack Obama being elected means to you and to all of us.
O: It’s gonna be harder to play the race card. There will be the same amount of racism, it’ll just be harder to call now. Those Republicans are after him. Don’t forget, over 40% of Americans didn’t vote for him. I don’t think being a Democrat or Republican is important. No, I think being a human being is important.

P: Do you envision a time when being Black will be invisible to the eyes of our society?
O: If you’re African you’re invisible. That’s some beatnik shit for you right there man. I live a dual life. When I travel in the South with my light-skinned daughter it’s a scandal; people staring at us, etc. But when I travel with my daughter who is the same shade as me, it’s “oh what a lovely family.” You remember that Star Trek episode with the guys who were half White and half Black? It’s like that. These differences just exist in our society. Look at the Irish, killing each other for years and you can’t even tell the difference between them. Same with Suni and Shia Arabs. Humans seem genetically programmed to hate someone. Make war on someone, that’s Mother Nature’s shit.

P: In spite of all this, you show incredible awareness of being Black.
O: Like I have a choice motherfucker!

And with that we changed subjects to music, touring Europe, antiques, and any other subject that crosses Otis’ mind. He is an unexpected, unique thinker. There are no stereotypes in his world. Everything is just another moment to be dealt with in the now. Unlike so many people I have met, Otis Taylor doesn’t live in a past of injustice or slavery, or in a future of grand success and acceptance. Otis lives right now.

http://www.otistaylor.com/

Valentine's Day recommendations from Twist and Shout!

Alf
My sweetheart already has everything. All that's lacking is something to tote everything around in. Preferably something with pigs on it. Pigs making pancakes would be ideal.

Adam R.This Valentine's Day, all you need is love...and Philip Norman's acclaimed new biography of John Lennon. We all shine on.

Extra Kool

The best thing to give your loved one for Valentine's Day is a nice case of Chlamydia, or Gonorrhea... well, maybe not. But the cuddly stuffed toys made by Giant Microbes of chlamydia or gonorrhea are a sure win. What girlfriend doesn't want to tell her friends that she got an STD for Valentine's Day? Or at least a stuffed one...

Natasha

Not that I HAVE a sweetheart, but if I did- I would buy them music!!!You would have to love music to be MY sweetheart! I would give them one of my favorite local bands like Bela Karoli, Ian Cooke, Roger Green or Porlolo. What could say I love you more than an album filled with beautiful songs! Luckily Bela Karoli and Ian Cooke will be playing the Hi-Dive for Valentines Day, so maybe I will see all you music lahvahs there!

Ben S.

ROBYN HITCHCOCK - I WANNA GO BACKWARDS 8 LP set --
I knew my wife was the one for me, when she was able to sing the SYD BARRETT's unreleased masterpiece "Vegetable Man" from memory. Of course, she knew it from THE SOFT BOYS' version, but that's cool too. Her taste for quirky English guys is self evident.

Doug
For my Valentine's Day recommendation I would have to say, if you haven't already picked it up, the new Raphael Saadiq record, The Way I See It, is a good gift. It has songs that are fun, catchy, romantic, but not too syrupy sweet (yuck!). On CD, vinyl, and limited edition 45's of the entire album.

Pat

My sweetheart enjoys all things Pekkle. That's the adorable little Sanrio duck character. And when is a bad time to get a nice pen? You should always have a pen on hand.

Paulie
The perfect new Valentine's litmus test: If she don't dig Burroughs, run.

Mark Farina in-store Saturday the 14th (St. Valentine's Day) at 5PM!

Just a last minute heads-up in case you didn't already know - DJ Mark Farina, one of the gods of downtempo music (and house music, and electronica...) in the United States, will be performing a short DJ set and signing autographs at our store starting at 5PM on Saturday, February 14th.

He visited us a year and a half ago on 7/7/7 and spun for a couple hours, to the enjoyment of many. Tomorrow he's more limited on time but it's sure to be an action packed set. And be sure to make it to his nighttime show at Cervantes, where you'll get a heapin' helpin' of what you'll only have a taste of here.

What Are You Listening To Lately (Part 11)?

Sly & the Family Stone - Stand!
If it were not for the just-OK "Somebody's Watching You" and the slight excess of "Sex Machine," this album would be perfect - the absolute inverse in its brightness, drive, and optimism of There's a Riot Goin' On's murk, languor, and pessimism. There's nary a hint of the darkness that would consume Sly a year or so after the making of this album - it's all hope and optimism and direct confrontation of problems, none of the resigned negativity he'd essay on the next record. And it's beautiful for most of its length, with "Everyday People" standing as not just one of Sly's best songs, but one of the best pop songs of all time. A true, indelible, A+ moment. But it's only one standout of Sly's grand statement of purpose - or at least of the purpose he espoused in 1969. On nearly any other record, "Everyday People" would be a career-topper the artist would try forever to recapture. On Stand! the song, brilliant as it is, finds at least three others on par with it - the bruising funk of "Sing A Simple Song," the tense equality plea of "Don't Call Me Nigger, Whitey" and the nearly-surpassing-it masterpiece of "I Want to Take You Higher." It's a landmark album, kept half a star short for me only by some minor flaws which in truth never cross my mind while it's playing, only in reflection afterwards.


Meat Puppets - II
In a way, their best because it's got the most breadth but it's also a little on the side of wild youth - they got wiser as they continued, and I for one appreciate that. But even so, they're pretty damn smart even this early on in their career and I don't think they were ever more fun, singing however they feel it without worrying about, y'know, pitch and stuff and playing their wacked out guitar/bass/drums the same way. Which just means that Kurt & co. cleaned them up a bit for their respectable stab at the MTV crowd, not that Nirvana improved on the melodies or the words. Cobain was right to pick three songs from this album for their big acoustic special because it's the Puppets' catchiest, their easiest to absorb (especially in the cleaner Nirvana versions) and he knew as well as anyone that "grunge" fans fans not acclimated to the underground that spawned Nirvana would be able to glom on to these shoulda-been hits more readily then the thrash of the first record or the wide-eyed (or should I say wide-pupiled?) psychedelic wonder of some of the later ones. So yeah, I guess it really is their best, a repository of melodies, riffs and memories, even though I find that I don't always go to this for my Puppets fix, which just means there are more great ones lurking out there.


Various Artists - Produced by Trevor Horn
Before I had any idea who Eno was, before I made any connection between Phil Spector and the multitude of hits he produced, I could identify a Trevor Horn production within a few bars. So his 80's material collected here holds a special place for me. He's the magic link between ABC, my heroes in Art of Noise, my favorite Pet Shop Boys song, the wacko "Buffalo Gals," and my otherwise inexplicable attraction to Yes and Godley & Creme. I don't necessarily need his 90's and 00's stuff the way I love his 80's, but neither do I mind hearing how he's developed (though I have yet to develop my own tastes enough to enjoy t.A.T.u for more than 2.5 minutes at a time.). Like the key AoN releases, like "Buffalo Gals," like "Owner of a Lonely Heart" and "Cry," the bulk of the 80's material here takes me to a sentimental place that I enjoy visiting. And if I don't love it all equally, this is a fundamental piece of my musical development. Eno and Spector came later and I can't in truth say that they've meant more to me.

Two films by Luis Buñuel

Luis Buñuel was a Spanish-born director who made less than five films in his native country, creating the bulk of his work in France and Mexico, which is where he filmed the latest two offerings from the Criterion Collection, The Exterminating Angel and Simon of the Desert. As a member of the Parisian surrealist group in the 1920’s, Buñuel liked to deal in imagery at once confusing and sometimes shocking – at least two of his films were banned in several countries for their scandalous content.

One of the key goals of the surrealists was not just to shock (though it was a favorite tactic) but to liberate thinking from what they perceived as the shackles that bound people to conventional thought. Buñuel was fond of attacking those institutions – social, governmental, and especially religious – that he felt were particularly responsible for providing and reinforcing those barriers to a freer mode of thinking and expression, of living. So it’s no surprise that many of his films circle around themes of frustration, wherein the protagonists find themselves unable for whatever reasons to satisfy even the simplest desires.

Take for example his 1963 masterpiece The Exterminating Angel. In it, a group of upper class citizens return from the opera to their host’s home for dinner. After dinner, they retire to the drawing room for some entertainment before going home. But no one leaves. Nothing physical prevents them from exiting the drawing room; they find that they simply can’t leave. At first it’s an annoying state of affairs, but as it continues for hours, days, weeks (perhaps months? It’s never made clear exactly how long it goes on) and things become more desperate all their well-bred social graces slowly fall away. They argue and fight, they covet neighbors’ wives, they panic, they commit suicide and attack one another – anything they can think of to survive in the room in which they’re trapped. Buñuel of course never clarifies or explains matters – this is simply a situation that exists and how these people respond in the resulting pressure cooker is what’s interesting, milked for black comedy as much as possible and laced throughout with satiric barbs. It’s possibly the finest realization of satirical wit married to more obscure surrealist free expression out of all of his 36 films.


A close second might be his short film Simon of the Desert that, in only 45 minutes, takes an equally humorous and scathing approach in its satire on religious piety, echoing The Exterminating Angel’s attack on bourgeois morals and manner. When Buñuel’s producer ran out of money halfway through production, the film was done. But the structure of his films, in which a central idea runs through like an endless railroad track on which any number of scenes can appear – getting off at an earlier station than originally intended still leaves us with the satisfaction of the journey we wanted. Here, a saint (Simon, played to pious perfection by Claudio Brook) sits atop a pillar in the desert to bring himself closer to God but true to Buñuel’s satiric form, this sort of strict adherence to dogma has no place in the real world. He performs miracles rated by onlookers as so-so, restores a thief’s severed hands only to have the thief’s first act with his new hands turn out to be the slapping of a boisterous child. While these scenes smack of the sort of disrespect bordering on blasphemy that gave his earlier works Viridiana and L'Age D'or such notoriety, it’s Buñuel’s clinical and intellectual (and secular) interest in the subject that also allows him to dryly and humorously explore the theological end of things. Simon is not merely there as an object to poke fun at for his inability to transform earthly matters, he’s also repeatedly tempted by Satan (in the form of actress Silvia Pinal), who appears and reappears in various guises, bringing us back to Buñuel’s interest in desire and frustration (in this case, self-inflicted). The point of all this is that Simon has bound himself to something that – like the class-bound diners of Angel – prevents him from experiencing his own life, from feeling the full range of his being by cutting himself off with his ascetic existence. When the devil finally takes him in the abrupt finale to a rock and roll club Simon doesn’t seem to be in hell, he merely seems disappointed in how mundane the real world can be, removed from the saintly struggles that gave him a sense of purpose.

Both of these films are high water marks for Buñuel and surrealist cinema in general. Both are being released by the Criterion Collection on Tuesday February 10th and are loaded with extras, including interviews on both DVDs with actress Silvia Pinal, interviews with Luis Buñuel from the 1970’s, critical essays, and more.

My adventure with Burning Spear in Jamaica

About three years ago I was sitting in my office doing what I do-ordering CDs etc.- when an employee's voice came over my intercom: “Paul there is a Sonia Rodney from Burning Spear on the line.” Luckily I knew that Burning Spear was actually a man named Winston Rodney, and I said “send her through.” On the other end of the line was what I might have called a caricature of a positive, upful Jamaican Woman addressing me as though we had known each other our whole lives. “Paul, oh my, it’s Sonia, Spear’s wife…you want any CDs?” I was flabbergasted. I knew immediately, I was, indeed speaking to the wife of one of my heroes. Winston Rodney, also known as Burning Spear is, in my opinion, the greatest living Reggae singer. He comes from the same generation as Marley, Tosh, Bunny, Scratch, you name it. He is part of the group of Reggae stars who, to me and many people of my generation, represent the essence of what this life-affirming genre of music has meant. Spear is the guy. Over the course of countless albums and thousands of life-changing concerts he has stayed true to the cause-musically, lyrically, spiritually, visually, Spear is the true Rastaman with a once-in-a-lifetime voice, an ineffable sense of rhythm and melody and an intellect informed by both the modern and the eternal. If you love and believe in Reggae, Spear is the beacon of truth.

So I start talking to Sonia. We connected immediately. I wanted nothing from her but to listen and help-she wanted nothing but to further her husband’s career. I told her I thought her husband’s work was amongst the most important in the history of modern music-similar to Dylan, Fela, The Beatles etc. and that she had a legacy to protect and promote that was both artistically and commercially unimpeachable. She told me they owned the rights to almost all of Burning Spear’s modern music and were trying to figure out what to do with it. I’m not sure why, but she mistook me for someone with power. We had hosted Burning Spear for a memorable instore performance back on Alameda Ave., but I barely got to speak to him then and assumed I was long forgotten. She did, however stumble upon a true and loyal fan. I had gotten turned on to Spear at the beginning of his career and had followed him with a private fervor that matched my love of any musician. I immediately purchased a little bit of everything she had and started trying to advise her about the modern music distribution network as I understood it. I encouraged her to keep control of her copyrights and don’t let the modern industry remove the soul and profit from her husband’s legacy. Obviously, she was way ahead of me-she knew what she had, yet was still interested in everything I said. I told her about a group of independent record stores that Twist and Shout is a member of called CIMS (Coalition of Independent Music Stores http://www.cimsmusic.com/) and that we had started our own distribution network that might offer her a short-term solution for the distribution of Burning Spear’s music. I gave her the appropriate contacts and she went on her way. I was three feet off the ground for the next couple of weeks-“I spoke to Burning Spear’s wife and she was awesome!

After a month or so I forgot about the encounter, but then was surprised when CIMS announced a distribution deal with Burning Spear. I was floored. After years of following an artist I had, in some small way, contributed to the evolution of his career. Wow!

Fast forward to October of 2008. The world is in turmoil. Business is unbelievably bad, and it seems that all is darkness. Out of the blue an email comes from Sonia Rodney. “Paul, you want to come to Jamaica?” I respond in a typically suspicious way; “Well sure, what are the details?” “You come, you’ll be Spear’s guest.” It went back and forth this way for some time, before I fully grasped what she was saying. She was inviting a few people who had helped her along the way to Jamaica in January, and Jill and myself were among the lucky. I continued to protest that I was broke and really couldn’t afford it, but she kept insisting, “everything paid for.” The next day, sure enough she sends plane confirmations. Also, she sends reservations for a place called The Caves. We looked up The Caves on the internet and it appeared to be one of the most unique and beautiful all-inclusive resorts in the world. I really couldn’t believe this was happening, but I filed it away and went forward with the Christmas of our discontent. It was a rough season for everyone in this country and in spite of the mild weather it seemed colder than any season in memory.

As the time approached, the enormity of the gift was starting to become clear to us. There was no agenda, no sales presentation, no nothing, just “come down and enjoy The Caves with your loved ones." Finally the day arrives and we take off for Jamaica. This has been a dream of mine since the early 70’s. I’ve loved Reggae music and have been fascinated with this small Island country with the big sound.

After a couple of long flights we landed in Montego Bay and were met by Spear’s personal driver, a ray of sunshine named Donald Pantry. Danny as we called him took us an hour away to the West end of the island and we entered The Caves. I can’t express adequately how beautiful and tranquil a place The Caves is. It is a series of beautifully appointed yet rustic cabins that sit on cliff above a bunch of caves created by the constant lapping of the crystal blue Caribbean waves. Within minutes we are in our shorts, drinking a rum drink and soaking up the incredible vibes.

That night around dinner time I hear a voice floating over the breeze. It is a loud joyous laughing voice and it could be nobody but Sonia Rodney. Finally we get to meet our benefactor. We see her approaching our small group and behind her there is the man himself-Burning Spear. Sonia embraces us warmly. She is a beautiful charismatic woman-bigger than life with dreads literally down to the ground. She is full of hugs and stories and interest in the music business. She is an amalgam of homespun Rasta warmth and New York chattiness. We learn she grew up in New York City and as a teenager caught the eye of Mr. Rodney who nurtured a loving relationship over many years, taking her children as his own and growing an admirable family that he has held as his emotional and business center. Sonia took over the business of Burning Spear in the early 80’s, turning a liability - “He would come home from tour more tired and more broke every year” - into a smartly run business that keeps the music and the message front and center. She was savvy and smart and conveyed her love with every laugh that seemed to come from a place deep down in her soul.

Throughout our hour long get–acquainted session Spear himself held back. He flashed the charismatic smile and kind of waved, but he was more comfortable talking to Danny and the people who worked at The Caves. As we wound down our conversation we all hugged and Spear came over and talked a little, encouraging us to enjoy The Caves and thanking us for being involved in his music. Then they were gone. We all (there were 7 of us) looked at each other and scratched our heads. It really seemed like they just wanted us to have a little vacation on them. We went about having a magical and relaxing time-eating the delicious Jamaican food, drinking the rum, sampling the local horticulture, etc. Jill told me on the second day that this was the most relaxed she had seen me in years, and it was true. We were actually able to forget about the horrendous economic conditions back home for a brief few days and enjoy. Throughout, I spent a lot of time listening to Burning Spear’s music and staring at the ocean. A very healing practice indeed. Spear’s music rivals any for a consistent, positive and morally righteous tone. It is not pop music, but a large and serious body of work that can be appreciated on many different levels. Just the short exposure to the man and the background of his music infused the trip with a magical air, yet I can’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed that I didn’t get any face time with Spear.

On our last full day we were sitting on the veranda of our cabin talking lazily about
nothing in particular when I see Winston Rodney walking toward us. What happened next seemed like a dream. Burning Spear walked up to our sitting area and sat down. He looked over at our bowl of ganj picked up a paper and rolled himself a neat little spliff and started to talk. It was a free-flowing hour of wide-ranging discussion. He quickly realized we were somewhat knowledgeable about the history of Jamaican music and his important part in that history and thus dispensed with any formality. He talked expansively about his early days and experiences with music men Jack Ruby and Chris Blackwell (who owns The Caves by the way). Unlike many of his contemporaries he had nothing but positive things to say about Mr. Blackwell, understanding the pivotal role Blackwell played in his career and in the development of Reggae music. He seemed to look at all of his history with a gently beneficent eye. There was no trace of bitterness or anger in anything he said. He spoke of his relationships with other musicians of his era. Hearing a tale of Marley growing his own “He was cultivatin’ mon” or the serious-minded Tosh or the architect of sound Scratch Perry or the early days at Studio One was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to gather a living history from one of the guys who made it happen. He knew these guys as peers and friends, not as legends or myths. They were his pals.

As the conversation moved lazily to his philosophy of life, Spear became more serious, leaning forward and fixing us with his gaze. He spoke of his motivations being history, teaching and art- not money. He was so clear about that. Money could not be the motivation for anything in his life. His art was propelled by the desire to leave a good example for future generations. He is a teacher, not a businessman. I think it is fair to say we were transfixed. During this part of the conversation he started talking about health. He is 64 and the only thing that tells you that is the grey in his beard. He is in remarkable physical shape. He runs and lifts weights almost every day. He always has a soccer ball in the car with him just in case. He says when he was younger he was an “exercise freak.” It shows. He has the body and demeanor of a man half his age. He made it clear that he rarely smoked any more, but at the same time he made some comments about the ganj that proved he was once a true herbsman. Like many great artists he had a manner and speech that was totally his own.

As our time together came to a close he pulled out his camera bag and withdrew a movie camera. “With you gentlemen’s permission, I would like to take a picture.” He wanted our picture? We joined our wives who had been convulsed with uproarious laughter with Sonia and we all stood in the Jamaican sunset and let Burning Spear take our pictures. The whole thing was so natural we barely remembered to take pictures of him. As quickly as it started it was over. They were gone, getting ready to go to their house in the same town Spear grew up in, and we were left with a wonderful feeling.

I have been lucky enough to meet quite a few of my heroes, and even had lengthy conversations with many of them, but this was the most special of all. Meeting a man like Burning Spear and having him live up to my incredibly high expectations was the greatest. I have always tried to separate the artist from the art and not place my own needs and desires on the artist. There was no need to make this separation with Winston Rodney. He has set the highest standard of musical excellence, and lyrical righteousness and he has lived a life that matches his artistic vision. I can say honestly, he was everything I hoped he’d be and so much more.

We left the idyllic setting of Jamaica and returned to 10 degree weather and equally chilly economic realities at home. Unlike other trips which are over the moment I step on the plane to go home, this one has provided a reservoir of healing spirit that I have been able to access as I need it. Thank you Spear! Thank You Sonia! Thank You Jamaica!