I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #74 - The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007, dir. Julian Schnabel)

“I’ve decided to stop pitying myself. Other than my eye, two things aren’t paralyzed. My imagination and my memory. They’re the only two ways I can escape from my diving bell.”

            Imagine being completely paralyzed aside from one eye, yet you’re completely aware, your brain fully functional. Follow this imaginary tangent and imagine that a form of communication has been developed for you using the alphabet and specifically placed blinks in order to demarcate one letter at a time.  This is the true story of Jean-Dominique Bauby.  He was able to communicate, one blink at a time, in order to write his memoir, the very work upon which this film is based.

After re-watching Julian Schnabel’s The Diving Bell and the Butterfly in preparation for this piece I found myself at a loss for words. Upon reflection I remembered feeling the exact same way after my first viewing; it’s hard to imagine that such a seemly direct story could hold such power. In this film, as well as the memoir of the same name it’s based on, we get the chance to live Jean-Dominique Bauby’s life for a spell. While the subject matter does surround a man who has gone through a massive stroke and suffers from locked-in syndrome, the film is not an entirely melancholic affair. Schnabel’s glorious visual realization of the memoir is truly an imaginative journey into an intriguing life filled with moments of wonder, frustration, melancholy (of course), tenderness, and a lively amount of sarcastic wit. With the use of cinematic technique and imaginative style the film sweeps the viewer through life in Bauby’s “diving bell.”

            The reason it’s difficult to find the words to describe this film is its visual nature; words just can’t describe the sway of its images. Much of the power of this film lies in the ways that Schnabel has chosen to convey this extraordinary memoir and the gorgeous images shot by Janusz Kaminski. For the majority of the film the camera lens truly becomes Bauby’s eye, it’s blurry when he first wakes up, images distort when his eye is strained, and everything in frame is immersed in water when he tears up. We even watch from his perspective, as one of his eyes is sewn shut to prevent ocular sepsis. In conjunction with this technique we are also provided his inner monologue as well as a front row seat, and/or his perspective shots, during a variety of flashbacks and imaginary dream sequences. Sometimes we even get a metaphorical look at how Bauby feels, stranded on a dead end pier in the middle of the water or screaming inside a lifeless diving suit. All of this comes together to truly place the viewer in his mind, not as merely a voyeur alongside the author.

            In addition to the way the story was told, the acting throughout the film is subtle and spot on. Mathieu Amalric is perfect both as the locked-in Bauby and the lively figure in memory. The entire supporting cast was spot on; Max Von Sydow even graced the screen as Jean-Dominique’s beloved, yet somewhat senile father. With every actor and actress the key seemed to be subtlety, even when the action expressed was exuberant, the true meaning is found between the lines. The fragile nature of life seemed to be a vine throughout the film.

            The bottom line is that this immersive film vividly brings to life an extremely interesting story. The subject matter could very easily have turned fodder for a cheap tear-jerker in the hands of a less capable director, but Schnabel, who’s helmed two other artist’s biopics, Basquiat (1996) and Before Night Falls (2000), brings the film to life. In place of scenes specifically placed to pull at heartstrings we get a more realistic set of acts strung together to give us both a look into Bauby’s life and his experience with locked-in syndrome. It could easily be an all too sentimental film, however the film created is beautiful, whimsical and reflective.

            - Edward Hill

I'd Love to Turn You On #89 - Marisa Monte – Rose and Charcoal

Back in 1994 when this was released, I was just stumbling into learning about Brazilian music and came to this album via its New York pedigree – my hero Arto Lindsay produced the record, she covers the Velvet Underground, Laurie Anderson has a guest spot, Philip Glass does an arrangement and so forth – but it’s Marisa Monte’s talents that held me to the record, not any of her pals. I was won over by Monte's gorgeous, lilting voice, by the sheer beauty of the tunes, and by the variety on display.

Turns out that not only was this record a precursor for the group Tribalistas she later formed with two of her cohorts here – Carlinhos Brown and Arnaldo Antunes – but it also has proven over the nearly 20 years since its release to stand strong not just as her finest hour (well, 50 minutes anyway) but as also one of the finest records out of the MPB movement that she’s a part of. MPB is short for Música Popular Brasileira, an all-embracing style of Brazilian pop music that arose in the post-Bossa Nova era and showed love for all styles of Brazilian music. Monte here takes on Bossa Nova, a funky Jorge Ben classic (“Balança pema”), an introspective Velvets classic (“Pale Blue Eyes”), some moody saudade from Paulinho da Viola (“Dança da solidão”), and a 1950’s samba, never stepping wrong at any point. But even more than showing her effortless grasp of Brazil’s musical breadth and history, it’s a showcase for the new tunes (mostly written by her and her Tribalistas pals) which are of a piece with the time-tested ones she covers and which show her and her associates’ mastery of pop music.

Kicking off with Carlinhos Brown’s “Maria de Verdade” the album sets itself quickly into a lovely summery groove before taking you on a tour of Brazil’s many styles and moods of music. And in fact, even above Lou Reed and Jorge Ben and Paulinho da Viola, Brown takes tops honors on the record, though not with the uplifting groove of the lead cut; it’s his spectacularly lovely tune “Segue O Seco” that’s the killer of the entire album. It’s a mid-tempo groover with a wistful tone, bordering on melancholy without surrendering its hope fully to that feeling – it’s simply too gorgeous to step down to that. After the strong opening songs, the record starts to jump around stylistically before settling on a more uptempo ending kicked off by Jorge Ben’s cut, then leading into the mellower Laurie Anderson guest spot and then closing out with the celebratory samba “Esta Melodia” – well, it’s celebratory until you tune into the lyrics, which are loaded with heartbreak but set over such an irresistible melodic line and surging rhythm that you can’t help getting swept up in the fun of it.

Bouncing from style to style, mood to mood, Marisa Monte’s talent is nowhere in her catalog more evident than here, on her best album. And in spite of the cream of Brazil’s modern MPB movement at her side, in spite of the great songwriters she honors (and works with), in spite of the guests she’s pulled in to help out (and did I also mention Gilberto Gil and Bernie Worrell’s spots on the album?), it’s her authority as singer, bandleader, and musician that holds the whole thing together. It’s a brilliant record, and despite everyone else I talk about here, it’s Marisa’s album - her masterpiece, in fact.

- Patrick Brown

I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #73 - Dark City (1998, dir. Alex Proyas)

What makes a human human? What is the soul? Are we just a collection of memories and a conglomeration of our past experiences? Or is there something else? Some spark of individualism or wisp of consciousness that makes us more than just a sack of blood, guts and impulses? This is the central question behind the visionary and disquieting film Dark City. This is not the only big question tackled by this stylish, bold film. Writer, director Alex Proyas wears his influences (German Expressionism, 1940’s film-noir and the classic era of Sci-Fi and Horror) on his sleeve and with the bold, almost over-the-top themes of self-determination and individualism he has created a film that sits comfortably next to the classics it pays homage to while pushing the genre forward.

The film begins with protagonist, John Murdoch (Rufus Sewell) waking up naked and disoriented in an unfamiliar, dingy hotel room. Things get immediately worse as he discovers a dead and mutilated woman in the room with him, and soon finds himself being pursued by police (in the person of an icy cold William Hurt) and even more ominously, a group of pale, trench-coated “aliens” known only as The Strangers. The film propels forward at a breakneck speed in a dizzying series of ominous revelations. Giving away any points of the plot would destroy the momentum the film so beautifully builds, but rest assured that, in spite of an initial sense of confusion in the viewer, all is revealed by the time it reaches its satisfying conclusion. An ambitious plot with heady themes and an intellectually honest attempt to address “the big questions” puts Dark City ahead of the pack to start, but the most exhilarating aspect is the endlessly changing and fascinating visual style it achieves.

The un-named, yet familiar city inhabited by John Murdoch is an ever-changing conglomeration of facades cast in a pallid nighttime glow. Like Metropolis, Blade Runner or Brazil before it or The Matrix and Inception after, an environment free of specific time and place references yet all too familiar exists, making us simultaneously comforted and disoriented. It is that dream-like quality of “seems like I’ve been here before” similar to deja-vu experiences that make Dark City unforgettable. Rarely has a film gotten the look so right. As though stepping into an M.C.Escher painting, stairways exist and we have an intuitive sense of how they work, but in this dream the laws of gravity, time and space have been recalibrated so that the familiar is changed, our past experiences prove to be a broken compass pointing somewhere unknown. Landmarks and institutions that should provide clues to what is happening just reinforce the sense of being lost.

I realize all of this description gives you no idea what the movie is really about. Simply put, it is science fiction of the polemic, revelatory school, like a big budget, grown up version of Star Trek or The Twilight Zone. There are special effects, themes lifted from mythology, beings from other planets, revocation of the laws of physics and ultimately a cosmic battle for the very soul of man. It is a hugely ambitious film that succeeds on many levels. At points during the finale it might veer a little too much into the hands of the special effects wizards, although in its favor is the fact that being filmed in 1998 almost none of the big action is CGI; however the conclusion is satisfying by a fairly rigorous intellectual standard. The idea that mankind is a rare and wonderful animal whose very existence would drive other species to jealously covet what we alone have: our humanity is a theme that can be endlessly and creatively explored. Alex Proyas’ Dark City is an essential entry into the canon.

- Paul Epstein

On The Cover: Adam Goldstein covers Bob Dylan Blood on the Tracks. Opening: Roger Green

Twist & Shout continues its support of the great monthly series, On the Cover, taking place the last Wednesday of every month at the Hi-Dive. For On the Cover, local musicians tackle classic albums that have been an influence on them, performing them in their entirety live and on stage. Check out this month's series in which Adam Goldstein takes on Dylan's Blood on the Tracks and offers some insight as to why he's chosen to perform this masterpiece.

Bob Dylan always distanced himself from the drama, heartbreak and loss that mark every single song on Blood on the Tracks.

In interviews following the release of the record in 1975, Dylan claimed its ten tracks were based on the short stories of Anton Chekhov. Years later, when a radio interviewer asked him about the fact that the album had become one his most beloved among fans, Dylan demurred, insisting, “It's hard for me to relate to that. I mean, it, you know, people enjoying that type of pain, you know?” He added that the tunes weren’t pulled from his personal life, saying he didn’t write “confessional” songs.

For anyone who knows and loves this record, those claims are hard to believe.

Blood on the Tracks stands apart in Dylan’s oeuvre for its immediacy, for its rare glimpse into the heart of an artist who made enigma, distance and mystery such a big part of his creative persona. Beneath the convoluted lyrical twists on “Idiot Wind,” beyond the third-person narrative approach of “Tangled Up and Blue” and “Simple Twist of Fate,” under the fatalistic bravado on “Bucket of Rain,” this album offers a portrait of Dylan coming to grips with a gaping emotional wound. And that makes sense, considering that this album came out shortly after his divorce from his wife and the mother of his children, Sara Dylan.

That pain makes for a compelling work of art, one that offers lessons to anyone who’s ever known heartache. Since I started listening to Blood on the Tracks in earnest at the tender age of 14, it’s offered comfort for every failed crush, every derailed relationship and every brutal rejection.

That’s not to say this album is about self-pity. Lyrically and musically, Dylan avoids self-indulgence here in a way he fails to do on any other album. He tracks every stage of a doomed relationship across the record, from the first glimmer of obsession to the final acceptance of letting go. But he does it with lyricism, integrity and insight.

It’s quite a feat, considering the material here came from a messy creative process. Indeed, on hearing the bare-bones songs for the first time, Stephen Stills was not impressed. “He's a good songwriter ... but he's no musician,” Stills observed to Graham Nash.

That’s hardly apparent from this brilliant record.

On the album’s opener, “Tangled Up in Blue,” the tale of a drifter looking to reconnect with an old flame becomes an allegory for much larger truths. Singing over bright major chords and tasteful folk-rock rhythm accompaniment, Dylan ends up purposeful: “Now I’m going back again, I got to get to her somehow,” he promises, before adding, “We always did feel the same, we just saw it from a different point of view.”

Those nuggets of wisdom only get more profound. “People tell me it’s a sin to know and feel too much within/I still believe she was my twin, but I lost the ring/She was born in spring, but I was born too late,” he bemoans on “Simple Twist of Fate.” On “You’re a Big Girl Now,” he cries, “I’m going out of my mind with a pain that stops and starts / Like a corkscrew to my heart.”

The accusations fly on “Idiot Wind,” before Dylan turns tender on “You’re Gonna Make Me Lonesome When You Go,” one of the poet’s most haunting and aching romantic tributes. Even the standard blues number “Meet Me in the Morning” includes nuggets of profound wisdom, as does the epic, 15-verse “Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts.”

The end of the record stands as a career high point for Dylan. The imagery in “Shelter from the Storm” stands among Dylan’s most profound; lines like, “Beauty walks a razor’s edge, someday I’ll make it mine” resonate for those who’ve been caught up in the bleak hopelessness of a rejection. “Buckets of Rain” turns philosophical, with lines like “Life is sad, life is a bust, all you can do is do what you must. You do what you must do and you do it well / I do it for you, honey baby can’t you tell.”

Dylan’s songwriting matches his insights. The song structures are subtle and moving. The guitar work, mostly performed in open E, is crisp; his harmonica playing never veers into overindulgence. Haunting organ lines on “Idiot Wind,” high-register bass on “Shelter from the Storm” and a funky blues band on “Meet Me in the Morning” round out the artist’s voice, strings and harp.

But perhaps more than any other album, Blood on the Tracks is all about Dylan. In peeling back layers and exposing what he usually keeps hidden behind brilliant verse and folk tradition, Dylan offered listeners a peek into the universal.

That’s the reason this record still feels poignant after every spin. That’s the reason why, nearly 20 years after I first played it through, I find new insights and deeper pathos in the tunes. That’s the reason why, after I can play this entire record through, I’m ready to listen to it again.

I'd Love to Turn You On #88 - Steve Hillage – L

Cosmic

a : of or relating to the cosmos, the extraterrestrial vastness, or the universe in contrast to the earth alone

b : of, relating to, or concerned with abstract spiritual or metaphysical ideas

2: characterized by greatness especially in extent, intensity, or comprehensiveness <a cosmic thinker>

Psychedelic

 : imitating, suggestive of, or reproducing effects (as distorted or bizarre images or sounds) resembling those produced by psychedelic drugs <psychedelic color schemes>

When trying to describe Steve Hillage’s mind-bending 1976 album, the words cosmic and psychedelic seem the most apt descriptors, so I thought a Webster’s definition might be enlightening. They actually do provide some adjectival ammunition to help slay this musical beast. Just start with the cover. A soft focus shot of perfect British hippiedom – Steve Hillage in a purple robe with some Egyptian looking jewelry hanging at his throat. Eyes shut, head tilted heavenward, he is backlit so that his head and especially his guitar are haloed - glowing with mystic energy. Whoa! When I first saw it on the rack in 1976 I just bought it as I did so many things in those days: because it looked cool. I had no idea how cool. After looking over the liner notes I realized that I knew a lot of the people involved; Todd Rundgren produced it, and his new band Utopia backed Steve Hillage and synthesizer player/vocalist Miquette Giraudy, both of whom I would later learn more about. Hillage especially would become a favorite trainspotting target as I found him in bands from 60’s psych obscurities Arzachael and Khan to the great Gong and into the present in his groundbreaking ambient electronic music with The Orb, System 7 and others.

But L remains my favorite throughout the years and every time I listen to it I find more and more to like about it. If you are a fan of Rundgren, especially his Wizard/Utopia period, you will adore this record. It is dense with Todd-esque production tricks - lots of clever edits, backwards masking, layered vocals, chiming wall-of-sound electronic madness. Opening with a cover of Donovan’s “Hurdy Gurdy Man” it is immediately obvious this album is reaching for some big universal truth. A crunching power chord gives way to synth washes and jazz great Don Cherry playing some exotic horn. Hillage starts singing like a lost disciple wandering the desert while the song builds into a triumphant guitar anthem. It builds skyward, faster and faster, Hillage’s guitar leading the way, so intensely that Rundgren can only match the intensity of the music by actually speeding up the tape and bringing the song to a thrilling, almost cartoonish finish, terminating in the toning of a Tibetian bell as if to bring us back to the weighty matters of the cosmos. Immediately, on the first song I’m slain. Everything I’m looking for. Then the second song, “Hurdy Gurdy Glissando” is a 9-minute exploration of outer space with Hillage and Rundgren stacking up eastern drums and whooshes of guitars and synths around Miquette’s Giraudy’s space whisper of a vocal. Thinking the third song “Electrick Gypsies” might be a momentary breather from the overwhelming headiness of the first few tracks, I was again thrown into the vortex with the most blatant hippie lyrics on the album - terms like “cosmic rainbow” and “psychic surf” are tossed about like life is one big acid trip and we have an endless stash. This is some classic hippie shit right here. Hillage’s tasteful vocal and heavenly guitar are the perfect tools for Rundgren’s thick aural stew.

Track 4, “Om Nama Shivaya” takes a further turn eastward with Indian lyrics chanted over Hillage’s impossibly liquid guitar - thanks to some brilliant Todd editing. The penultimate song, “Lunar Musick Suite” is a 12-minute guitar tour-de-force that shows Hillage to be in a class by himself as a lead player. Rundgren creates a pulsing, driving mountain of a song with Hillage standing at the top tossing off lines like rock and roll lightning bolts. It brings to mind the best work of Gong, Yes, King Crimson and even Zappa, Weather Report or Return To Forever. The album closes, perfectly, with another cover, this time one of George Harrison’s best Beatles lyrics; “It’s All Too Much” is an optimistic, cautionary tale with equal parts acid tongue and comforting arm around your shoulder. Hillage’s tender voice lends the lyric just the right note of knowing vulnerability for the song while Rundgren pulls out all the stops in recreating - and even topping - George Martin’s ambitious original production. With another heroic guitar solo, Hillage takes this classic song into the stratosphere. Instead of crashing to the ground like a meteor, L goes into audio orbit like some fantastic day-glow rocket. This amazing album never lets up in intensity, bringing the listener along on peak after peak very much like a profound LSD experience. Good old Webster's - always has just the words I need to describe the indescribable.

- Paul Epstein

Bob Dylan – Bootleg Series Volume 10 Another Self Portrait

Bob Dylan – Bootleg Series Volume 10 Another Self Portrait

For the first 20 or so years of its life, Bob Dylan’s Self Portrait was the subject of much derision by the critical and fan community. Somewhere in the last 20 years it has gone from derision to acceptance by some and downright adoration by others. As usual the truth lies somewhere in between. I always found the original album to be the perfect accompaniment to a stoned Sunday afternoon of rootsy pleasures. It had a real country authenticity and the comfortable relaxed vibe that characterized Dylan’s late 60’s/early 70’s material. After the societal crucible of Dylan’s 60’s material this more pastoral take on life and music was a jarring change of pace and thus the cries of sellout and schlock-merchant started to dog Dylan’s steps as they have at every juncture of his career. As he said himself “Everybody wants me to be just like them…I just get bored.” Another Self Portrait allows the listener to evaluate this pivotal album in a new historical and musical context. The deluxe version is made up of several components.

First, and perhaps most importantly are the unvarnished work tapes from spring and early summer of 1970 that finds Dylan accompanied by David Bromberg on guitar and Al Kooper on various keyboards. They run through a gamut of material that would find its way on to Self Portrait and New Morning six months later, as well as some songs that have never seen the light of day until now. None of these versions have been heard and it is safe to say that they are a revelation. Dylan is in fine form, strumming guitar and trying out the different voices from the era - swoon, croon, hick and folkie - and he lends each an authority that can only be born from genuine love and knowledge of the subject. On most of these cuts, David Bromberg shows himself to be a priceless accompanist as he unfailingly finds the melodic heart of each song giving Dylan the freedom to really explore his vocals and the material. Al Kooper as well offers such insightful arranging and keyboard service that one might start to think of him as an almost “Zelig”-like figure in Dylan’s career. The next pieces are a handful of assorted odds and ends from the period that help fill in the gaps and more fully illustrate the sound Dylan was striving toward. There are a couple of cuts left off Greatest Hits Volume 2, a session with Dylan intimate George Harrison, and some other tasteful rarities. The third element of the set is the first legitimate appearance of Dylan and The Band’s entire performance at The Isle Of Wight Festival on August 30th 1969. Finally, there is a meticulously remastered version of the original Self Portrait. Self Portrait may have been a head-scratcher at the time of its original release for many people, but Another Self Portrait makes everything crystal clear. It’s all about context. When one looks at Self Portrait as the follow up to Dylan’s unprecedented and incomprehensibly accomplished mid-60’s work it is hard to understand. However when one looks at it with the helpful clarity of 40+ years it makes perfect sense. Within the context of The Flying Burrito Brothers, Doug Sahm, The Blasters, X, Uncle Tupelo, Drive-By Truckers etc, etc. it makes perfect sense. In fact it predicts, executes and beats the lot of ‘em at their own game before they even thought of it. Per usual Dylan was, and remains on the cutting edge of his own universe - we’re just lucky he let’s us listen in. Here are my thoughts on my first two listens.
Disc 1
1) “Went To See The Gypsy” - The New Morning song as it was meant to be - a spare, spooky mystery - Bromberg shines.
2) “Little Sadie” - stripped of overdubs, the menace and elastic p.o.v. of this traditional narrative are returned to Dylan’s original vision.
3) “Pretty Saro” - an outtake from Self Portrait that shows Dylan penchant for sentimental folk balladry. Just beautiful!
4) “Alberta #3” - A fabulous take of the song that appears on Self Portrait twice. This is by far the best version as Dylan offers the most straightforward vocal and a nice simple acoustic setting highlighted by Kooper’s subtle piano fills and Bromberg’s dobro.
5) “Spanish Is The Loving Tongue” - another outtake that did appear on A Fool Such As I but here is just Dylan solo at the piano showing a real vulnerability and a horrendous Spanish accent.
6) “Annie’s Going To Sing Her Song” - A Tom Paxton song that finds Dylan in a relaxed voice for this poignant song fragment.
7) “Time Passes Slowly #1” - a song from New Morning, here with George Harrison adding guitar and background vocals, it has a totally different effect than the original album version.
8) “Only A Hobo” - originally slated for Greatest Hits Vol.2 this wonderful duet with early Dylan associate Happy Traum is a shining outing for this rare Dylan song.
9) “Minstrel Boy” - a Basement Tapes outtake with The Band. This nugget begs that a full Basement Tapes Bootleg Series entry be forthcoming.
10) “I Threw It All Away” - A less cluttered take of the Nashville Skyline standout where Charlie Daniels, Norman Blake, Charlie McCoy et al really shine like the Nashville pros they were.
11) “Railroad Bill” - a sweet vocal on this folk classic that was probably one of the first fingerpicking songs both Dylan and Bromberg learned.
12) “Thirsty Boots” - Dylan really gets to the emotional and melodic heart of this fully realized Eric Anderson beauty. It is hard to understand why this was left off the original. Maybe it was too much like a Dylan song.
13) “This Evening So Soon” - One of my favorites on the set. This is a fantastic arrangement with Dylan using what sounds like his “real voice” and showing genuine emotional range on this traditional number. He plays a couple of lovely harmonica breaks and Bromberg and Kooper are perfect. A real gem.
14) “These Hands” - a country hit that probably would have been schmaltzed-up if it had made it to production on Self Portrait, but here is an absolutely charming, intimate duet between Dylan and Bromberg’s guitars while Dylan sings it beautifully straight.
15) “In Search Of Little Sadie” - another version from the original album that has been stripped of overdubs and thus offers a Masters class on why Dylan is one of the greatest interpreters of traditional American folk and blues. He has a deep understanding of the material and his vocal here, unadorned by production distractions, is miraculous.
16) “House Carpenter” - another total gem. Dylan takes hundreds of years of British and American folk music and boils it down to one bluesy distillation of tradition. He owns it with such authority.
17) “All The Tired Horses” - to me this was always the most perfect moment on the original Self Portrait. Like few other pieces of music this one line proclamation of…of…of something has a complete “otherness” to it that defies description. Here, it is stripped back to just Dylan, Bromberg, Kooper and the female voices and the result is no less hypnotic than the album version.

Disc 2
1) “If Not For You” - a mind-boggling alternate of New Morning’s hit, this version finds Dylan alone at the piano save for an unknown violin player providing an aching accompaniment. A major find.
2) “Wallflower” - already one of the great “lost” songs of Dylan’s catalog, this version is simply Dylan strumming acoustic, blowing harp and singing in what again sounds like his “real” voice while sole accompanist, steel master Ben Keith wails.
3) “Wigwam” - no overdubs again reveal the simple melodic beauty of this Self Portrait cut. What was once difficult to get out of your head is now impossible.
4) “Days Of’49” - what was always one of my least favorite songs on the original album is made highly enjoyable by the uncluttered mix. Bromberg! - what a tasteful player, and Al Kooper seems to have some kind of telepathic instinct for what each song needs.
5) “Working On A Guru” - a funny little number featuring George Harrison playing nice lead guitar and a rhythm section of Charlie Daniels on bass and Russ Kunkel on drums making this a supergroup that never was. Good fun.
6) “Country Pie” - alternate version of Nashville Skyline’s most light-hearted song. Really shows the connection between the sessions that connected the three albums of this period.
7) “I’ll Be Your Baby Tonight” - live at the Isle of Wight from the second day’s performance finds the band giving enthusiastic backing.
8) “Highway 61 Revisited” - again from Isle of Wight. A bold re-imagining that hints at Dylan’s modern performance style.
9) “Copper Kettle” - another Self Portrait song that is a complete revelation without all the overdubs. The Dylan-Bromberg-Kooper ensemble is perfect for this gorgeous bootlegger’s tale. One understands much better why Dylan chose the material he did for the original album.
10) “Bring Me A Little Water” - a fully realized New Morning outtake of this song Dylan probably learned from listening to Leadbelly, this bluesy number finds Dylan using a gospel-inflected rasp that he would exploit at great length in the late 70’s and 80’s. Very interesting and forward-looking.
11) “Sign On The Window” - interestingly, this New Morning song is an example of the opposite effect of most of the material on this set. Here we have a familiar song with extra orchestral overdubs arranged by Al Kooper. The lush result is fascinating. It is safe to say if you were a big fan of the original Self Portrait concept you will find this to be an extremely rewarding addition.
12) “Tattle O’Day” - one of the most enticing and mysterious fragments on the entire set. Left off Self Portrait this traditional lyric is a riddle wrapped in an enigma much like many songs passed down by oral tradition with layers of cultural meaning and folk wisdom. I have listened to this dream-like piece of music over and over and it won’t leave my imagination. Much like the first time I heard “Blind Willie McTell,” “Abandoned Love” or “Series Of Dreams” this song is an immediate, magical favorite in Dylan’s catalog. Even though he didn’t write it, it occupies the same country as his greatest songs. Worth the price of admission alone!
13) “If Dogs Run Free” - along with “Sign on The Window” the most radical re-imagining of a familiar song. A slowed down, beat-poetry recitation, that really changes your understanding of this New Morning classic.
14) “New Morning” - another very different take of the title song. This version has punchy, Van Morrison-like horns arranged by Al Kooper. Priceless!
15) “Went To See This Gypsy” - another version - this time with just Dylan alone at the electric piano. This is chilling, essential Dylan. A real highlight.
16) “Belle Isle” - another Self Portrait song that benefits so much to hear Dylan’s humble vocal in the perfect two-guitar setting provided by his own strong strumming and Bromberg’s heavenly fills.
17) “Time Passes Slowly #2” - a total rager. You will be amazed at how different this take is than either of the others you have heard. Charlie Daniels lays it down fat on the bass, Bromberg and Ron Cornelius are fabulous on guitar and Dylan taps into the solid rock energy he would demonstrate during The Rolling Thunder Review a few years later. Another major keeper.
18) “When I Paint My Masterpiece” - much will be made of this solo piano version of a Dylan classic. Not only is it a different and affecting version, it contains a different lyric that is uncharacteristically demonstrative for Dylan - rhyming “Victrola” with “rock and rolla” - very fun indeed and a perfect way to end this part of the set.

Disc 3
This disc contains the entirety of the Isle Of Wight Show from August 30, 1969. Dylan is accompanied by The Band, who, as expected, shine with authentic chops and sympathy with the material. Dylan’s set is a 17-song overview of his best material wrangled into manageable, tight, country-ish interpretations. It is the set that many modern fans wish Dylan would deliver. It is well-recorded and entirely enjoyable. If it didn’t follow the majesty of the previous two discs it would be considered a major addition to his catalog. In this context, it makes sense and it is really the only live performance from this period of Dylan’s career, yet it feels like a somewhat more careful outing - closer to the vest than the totally new experience of the first two discs. One is spoiled by the excitement of new discoveries. That shouldn’t take away from this important milestone in Dylan’s performing career - yet, in some way, it does.

Disc 4
The remastered Self Portrait. The previous three discs have also had an affect on this listening experience. They make me realize what singular and groundbreaking albums Self Portrait, Nashville Skyline and New Morning were, and they also help contextualize them –especially Self Portrait - in the arc of Dylan’s career and the history of modern music. I always enjoyed this album, and hearing it after further scholarship makes it sparkle with renewed interest. This set is also joined by two books that really do define the idea of deluxe; an essay by the dean of rock journalism Greil Marcus is insightful and down-to-earth and scores of beautiful photos bring the era to vivid life.
- Paul Epstein

I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #72 - Babe: Pig in the City (1998, dir. George Miller)

Yes, I’m 100% serious. I love this sequel to a film centered on a talking pig. Don't look to other contemporary talking animal or kiddie movies to compare this to, because it will dust anything you can come up with (except the first Babe film, which even so is a much more straightforward movie). Gene Siskel called it the best movie of the year that it came out, and I agree. The Thin Red Line, Happiness, Rushmore, The Big Lebowski – all have their virtues and Babe: Pig in the City stands above every one of them. A 1998 Japanese film I also love, After Life, comes close, but for the complete ingenuity of George Miller’s vision in his film I’d have to give him the nod. What so special about it, you ask?

            

 Well, more than just a kids’ film, this is a film that’s aimed at cinema enthusiasts and it just so happens that kids can enjoy it as well. There are nods throughout the film to the pratfalls of silent comedy and the films of Jacques Tati, and without going into full-on homage mode like Scorsese’s Hugo, this film pays tribute then goes its own way, creating a world “in a place just a little to the left of the 20th century” that touches on our world but isn’t beholden to its rules, like any good fantasy film. And the designs throughout – from The City, to the color schemes he uses in the city and at the climactic charity ball, to the pet-friendly hotel – are simply brilliant. The first nine minutes pick up on the farm where the first Babe film left off and then set up the action of rest of the film (and as a side note, if you haven’t seen that, you really ought to, though it’s not entirely necessary for enjoyment of this film) before Babe and his human (Magda Szubanski in a great comic role as Mrs. Esme Cordelia Hoggett) set off for The City, which is one of the first of George Miller’s strokes of brilliance in the film. 

The design of the unnamed metropolis consists of a delightful composite of major world skylines – the Hollywood Sign, the Sydney Opera House, the Golden Gate Bridge, etc. - an intricate canal system through the main part of town, and numerous neon signs and billboards proclaiming things like “Eat,” “Win,” “Eternity,” or “More Please,” reducing all advertising slogans to their core messages. It’s all cities and any city – cold and inhospitable in some ways, but with individuals scattered throughout who are warm and caring. Upon arrival in The City we shortly enter a segment of the film entitled “Chaos Theory” where Babe and his human both find themselves engulfed by chaos – Babe caught in a comedic show (lead by Mickey Rooney in a mildly disturbing role) in a children’s hospital and Esme Hoggett lost in the black, white and grey city, searching for her lost pig. This leads to an exciting chase sequence with a dog that’s possibly a little intense for young kids. Those who don’t like the film call this part of the film “dark” but it gets right to the heart of the film’s ideas.

The smart narration that will be familiar from the first film notes that Babe: Pig in the City is “…an account of their calamitous adventures, and how a kind and steady heart can mend a sorry world.” Its messages are simple - be nice to people, don't judge a book by its cover, don't let cynicism beat you - but to me that's powerful enough and can stand to be said until the world gets in line with that program. I hate corny words like "magical" when describing a film, but it fits here better than any film I can think of in the last few decades.

- Patrick Brown

I'd Love to Turn You On #87 - Kingfish – Kingfish

From the opening number “Lazy Lightning/Supplication” it’s obvious this is a special album. Vocalist Bob Weir is at his hippie/cowboy best shouting out this cosmic love song while guitarist Robbie Hoddinott plays a perfectly tasteful and exploratory guitar part. The song stretches into the gospel-like “Supplication” portion and it is pretty easy to start getting religion about this group. Fronted by ex-New Riders Of The Purple Sage bassist and vocalist Dave Torbert, Grateful Dead frontman Weir, Hoddinot on lead guitar and Bay Area harmonica player/songwriter Matt Kelly, Kingfish burned bright for exactly one fantastic studio album and then fizzled for another 20 years after Weir left the band in 1976. That album, 1976’s Kingfish, remains an enticing taste of how much promise this band had. The four songs Weir sings are highlights, especially his warm vocal on the clever “Home To Dixie” and his excellent cover of Marty Robbins’ gunfighter’s tale “Big Iron,” but they are hardly the only reasons to love this album.

Dave Torbert was not only an outstanding bass player, he had a distinctive, reedy voice that was responsible for some of the New Riders’ best songs. He hits a sweet spot on Kingfish capturing the early 70’s back-to-the-farm, flannel shirt, pot-smokin’ gestalt to a tee. In fact his song “Good-Bye Yer Honor” is a real anti-establishment, pro-drug flag- waving anthem that may or may not be ill-advised with the clarity of historical hindsight. For that particular moment in history though the song, and the entire vibe of this band, fits like a glove. Two more songs that capture the era nicely are Matt Kelly’s “Asia Minor” a pre 9-11 love song to the romantic and chemical mysteries of Afghanistan, and “Jump For Joy” a counter-cultural love song that gets it just right musically as Hoddinot provides some really tasteful lead playing.

The real standout on the album for me though is “Hypnotize,” a very simple love lyric inserted into an absolutely gorgeous ascending riff that Robbie Hoddinot turns into a truly outstanding performance. He and Weir lock in and find that elusive guitarists’ stairway to the stars and play off each other in a workout that is as exciting as it is refined. It is too short at four and a half minutes. As the guitars spiral upward on the final climax you wish it could go on forever. The album closes at a spiritual high place when Weir tackles a traditional gospel, “Bye And Bye” to great effect. It is a perfect way to round out this comforting set of music.

Kingfish reminds me that simplicity is sometimes the magic sauce that brings together the greatest dishes. This album is made up of really fine musicians applying their skills to a set of simple, well-played songs, leaving the listener a plate full of delicious music. Even though it is hardly as well known as releases from other hit making bands of the 70’s it stands up to any other country-rock album of the era and surpasses many. Even though this version of Kingfish was short lived they produced an album that should secure them a place on your shelf forever.

- Paul Epstein

I'd Love to Turn You On At the Movies #71 - Bringing Out the Dead (1999, dir. Martin Scorsese)

"I'd always had nightmares, but now the ghosts didn't wait for me to sleep.” – Frank Pierce

 Martin Scorsese is well known for films such as Goodfellas, Taxi Driver, Raging Bull, Casino, Gangs of New York, etc. The list could go on and on. Unfortunately, when most people list off their favorite Marty flicks, there is one that is almost always missing: the 1999 film Bringing Out the Dead. Even though this film shares themes that audiences seem to enjoy under different titles, for whatever reason Dead gets left out in the cold. I’m here to turn you on to what is surely one of the most unique cinematic experiences you will have.

To begin with, this is the fourth collaboration between Martin Scorsese and Paul Schrader, the first three being Taxi Driver, Raging Bull and The Last Temptation of Christ. Excluding some controversy with Christ, these are routinely accepted as masterpieces. So, why the disconnect this time around? This writer thinks it is almost entirely a problem of preconceived notions. Even before the foolish critics of the time (excluding an excellent write up from Roger Ebert) labeled it as Scorsese-lite, people were turned off by the film. For unknown reasons, the all-star cast, including Nic Cage, John Goodman, Ving Rhames, Tom Sizemore, Patricia Arquette and Marc Anthony, didn’t fire up people’s curiosity. A good chunk of this trouble could be blamed on the film Marty directed prior to Dead – the unfairly maligned 1997 epic Kundun. Especially since Casino had come two years before that, people were in a gangster mood when the screen said Scorsese. Between the relative dislike of Kundun, the fact that not many people saw or cared to see his excellent documentary that served as a journey through Italian cinema (My Voyage To Italy), and the fact that this wasn’t a gangster film, Bringing Out the Dead was near destined to be a failure.

But, lucky for you, DVD exists and you still have a chance to dive headfirst into one of Scorsese’s most visceral films. Nic Cage plays Frank Pierce, a seasoned paramedic that works the graveyard shift in Hell’s Kitchen, in the early 90’s. For those who don’t know, this is New York at its worst: a vicious crack infestation (called Red Death in the film), unacceptable housing conditions, and crime at levels so high it almost becomes satirical. Your average filmmaker wouldn’t put in all the time necessary to recreate such a horrible time. But for Marty, this period is the absolute perfect setting for a tale of redemption through debilitating sacrifice and pain.  The cinematography by Robert Richardson gives an addictive energy to this oppressive tale of guilt and loss. One of the best things about Scorsese is that he will almost never judge characters in his films. Yes, Hell's Kitchen is shown as the crack-addled, violent, sleazy mess that it was at the time, but it rarely feels voyeuristic or superior. The purpose isn't to point fingers, but to study human behavior. Many will say that this is simply a poor rehash of Taxi Driver. Those people are fools. The two films are certainly related, but never the same. Taxi Driver is a story of revenge and redemption; Bringing Out the Dead is never a story concerned with revenge. Frank Pierce is a man haunted by his past and crippled by guilt over the lives he has lost. In particular a teenager named Rose, whom Frank couldn’t save, haunts him as if a ghost. Frank sees her face supplanted onto nearly everyone he comes into contact with. He hears her calling out for help and asking why he couldn’t save her. Through voice over narration, Frank lets us know that it has been months since he saved someone. This is where Scorsese drops us into the story. Frank is at (or very near) his lowest point. He drifts through his night-to-night existence fueled by whiskey, cigarettes and soul-crushing guilt. The film disorients the viewer almost immediately. Within minutes, we are part of this fever dream existence that Frank is trying to sustain. We begin to empathize to an almost uncomfortable degree made possible by Scorsese's ability to pull excellence out of Nicolas Cage. 

 Although Cage had offered up some great performances prior (Raising Arizona, Leaving Las Vegas), this marks the first time that someone could actually control him. Cage's normal performances range from vapid, blank stares to earth-shaking bursts of crazy. Bringing Out the Dead gives us his first performance that wobbles unsteadily in the middle. Without it, the film would've failed. The free flowing, unpredictable acting on display gives the film its shaky center, setting the stage for this brutal tale of suffering and the tension created from the line-riding is palpable. If a single line, either narrated or spoken, doesn’t hit home, the entire film falls apart. Scorsese wisely gives Cage a lot to do. We meet a wide array of people that all bring out some corner of Frank’s psyche that had yet to be exposed. John Goodman is Frank’s first riding partner in the ambulance. As always, Goodman brings an enormous energy and gets the film moving. We then get Ving Rhames at his best, as an energetic EMT who uses every opportunity to praise Jesus and deliver the Word. Last we get Tom Sizemore playing a man that can only get by taking his aggression out on whatever's around. Whether it's a crazed homeless man named Noel (a surprisingly solid turn from Marc Anthony), or the ambulance that acts as chariot to the hell that every night brings, Sizemore's character is on the verge of catastrophe at every turn. Along with Frank Pierce, the character Mary Burke (a slightly unenthused but solid Patricia Arquette), gives the story something to come back to after each vignette. Scorsese has been obsessed with faith, specifically Catholicism, since his first film. This time, he decides to be very overt in naming the character that Frank is drawn to for guidance, help and appreciation, Mary.  I shall now stop with any other plot details, because the rock n’ roll fueled energy that comes from seeing this film unfold would be foiled if more is revealed.

Moral of the story: why wouldn’t you want to watch a dizzying descent into one man’s personal hell, full of wonderful performances, a soundtrack that includes Van Morrison, The Clash, The Who and The Melodians, gorgeous, disorienting cinematography by Robert Richardson (Fast, Cheap and Out of Control, Casino), earnest balls-out direction from Scorsese and a brooding, psychologically probing screenplay from Paul Schrader? And of course we can’t forget – it’s a really great dark comedy. If I haven’t convinced you, here is a single quote from a better-spoken man than I that should do the trick.

“Once again, this carnival of lost souls gives him the stylistic equivalent of an adrenaline boost; intellectually, Scorsese may not pine for the early nineties, but they're custom-fit for his perpetual theme of redemption through suffering, and the vistas -- the steam heat rising like hellfire from the streets, the phalanx of hookers and dopers, the whole vast detritus of the human comedy -- leave him rapt. Scorsese used to make movies about this world when it was right on top of him; in Bringing Out the Dead, he's serving up what amounts to livid pictographs from the cave of an earlier era. Not too much earlier, though. His point may be that there's still a lot of Then in Now.” – Peter Rainer

   - Will Morris, House Manager, Sie Film Center

2013 UMS Wrap Ups, pt. 2

Patrick's take on the UMS.

Essential UMS tools

Ahhh, another UMS in the bag and only now a week later am I feeling fully recovered. As always, it’s four nights in a row of great music, great camaraderie, and a celebration of a great music scene here in a great city. And it’s four nights of staying out later than I planned, which only catches up with me once it’s all over. If you’ve been there, you know how it goes – there’s never just one highlight, it’s a series of small shows that create a sampler platter of bands both local and national that you need to check out at full length next time they’re playing. Even when you attend a full 40-45 minute set, as I did a few times, especially on the opening Thursday festivities, it feels all too short. So a list of highlights of the 27 acts I managed to catch this year – Go Star, Kitty Crimes, Mudhoney, Residual Kid, Wheelchair Sports Camp and more – is only a fraction of what the whole event held. Beyond the music, there’s the social stuff – hanging for beers at Trve Brewery a couple times was as fun as any band I caught, going to a backyard or VIP after-party and just drinking in the sights (and sounds) on the streets all added up to a total experience that no simple concert review could encapsulate. And as always, I have a longer list of bands I intended to see that I didn’t get to see than the ones I got to see. But there’s always next year! And if you haven’t been – well, why the hell not? You don’t even need to know anything about the scene or what bands are cool, just check it out and go with the flow. It’s a guarantee that if you’re a music lover in this city, you’re going to run into people you know and they’ll be on their way to the next show that could be the best thing you’ve seen all year – or maybe it won’t and you’ll all decide to skip on over to the next venue where your new favorite Denver band awaits. Trust me on this one.

DJ Alf featuring guys from Epilogues

So, some impressions – Thursday seems to be turning into the connoisseur’s night. Many of the headlining weekend bands are down there hanging out and partying and listening to everybody else, so it’s very scene-heavy. And just by chance, my two favorite shows I saw all weekend were the first two things I heard this night – Joshua Trinidad’s electric jazz band Go Star, and hip-hop MC Kitty Crimes. Friday I hung with my friend Chris and bumped around all night, with the high point being main stage headliners Mudhoney, who I last saw somewhere back in about 1994 and who are better musicians and performers now than they were then. How much improved musicianship works in favor of a music style that prides itself on being loose and sloppy is of course up for debate. Saturday was an odd mix of styles, from DJ sets to folk to indie rock to hip-hop to avant-garde drones, but that’s just how diverse Denver’s scene is and I’m happy to celebrate it. Cut out for a bit because the Film Center had actress Mink Stole appearing and I couldn’t miss an opportunity to meet her (she was charming). I rolled back afterward and ended up staying out until after 3. That’s just how it goes! Sunday wrapped things up with a great batch of music from Elin Palmer, Residual Kid (amazing!), DirtY Femmes, Joshua Novak, Born in the Flood, and a house party where Ark Life was playing in a backyard. As always, it was another remarkable event and I’m eager to see how next year plays out!

Ark Life has 'em dancing at an after-party

Beth's take on the UMS.

This year was my first time attending the Underground Music Festival and it practically took place in my backyard. I had my booklet handy so that I could follow the times that my favorite bands were playing and to also know when is my 'downtime' to check out other bands that I didn't know yet. This entire plan pretty much went out the window within the first few hours on Friday. Since it was so close to me, I live one block from the main stage at Goodwill, I told all my friends that they could stop over anytime and also that we should get a few 6 packs for my fridge to save a couple bucks when not needing to be at a performance. All in all this plan worked out pretty darn well, as you may imagine. Later on Sunday, I met up with a coworker who had a written out list of the shows he wanted to see and in the time order that they occurred. This is the way that I will be doing it next year, as flipping back and forth between the pages proved to be somehow difficult. The frequent stops at my apt. for potty, water and beer breaks really gave me a sense that it was a great community get together and that my neighborhood was being blessed with so many exciting things (like all the food trucks!) and people that were excited to be out on a great weekend festival.

Joshua Trinidad's Go Star

The top acts that I saw over the weekend were: Dirty Few, Bleached, A. Tom Collins, Dirty Femmes, Residual Kid, Ian Cooke, Cults and Mudhoney. There were many others that I caught a few songs from as I visited the different venues at a leisure pace and I can't wait to do it all again next year, but even better!

Kitty Crimes crowd surfing at Blue Ice

Residual Kid rocked the Hi-Dive

This guy was on the street all weekend, but didn't always have a band to back him

I'd Love to Turn You On #86 - Hot Tuna - Burgers

The Jefferson Airplane had one of the most unique musical equations in the history of rock; with Paul Kantner and Grace Slick’s strident messages of political and social change, Marty Balin’s elevated love songs and the vocal cat and mouse game that the three engaged in, there was nothing quite like it. Underpinning all of it though was a muscular and intelligent instrumental machine powered by bassist Jack Casady and guitarist, vocalist Jorma Kaukonen. When those two started exploring their own musical identities with side group Hot Tuna their first two albums were (Hot Tuna and First Up Then Pull Down) – acoustic then electric live albums respectively – that showcased both musicians’ expertise at synthesizing traditional blues into a very respectful yet exhilarating form of high-energy rock (pretty much as Zeppelin, The Stones, The Yardbirds et al did - except Tuna played it a little closer to the blues vest). With their third album and first studio album, 1972’s Burgers, the duo melded their blues authenticity to the psychedelic craftsmanship they learned in the Airplane with stunning results.

Burgers combines both the acoustic blues finger-picking that Kaukonen perfected as a young folk disciple of the genre (I drove him from Denver to Boulder once after an autograph signing and he told me as a young man (pre-Airplane) he moved to Europe in order to follow blues piano great Champion Jack Dupree on tour and sit at the feet of his idol), with the acid drenched electric soloing of the Airplane’s Haight-Ashbury heyday to create a thrilling new type of music that predicted the folk-rock movement which would dominate popular music for the next decade. Every song on Burgers jumps with the excitement of great songs (six Kaukonen originals and three blues covers) and even better arranging and playing. Opening with Kaukonen’s “True Religion” we get the template for the album going forward. Kaukonen begins with a classic blues finger-picking exercise before the band crashes in with Casady’s crushing bass line and jazz violinist Papa John Creach wailing over the proceedings like a fire and brimstone preacher above a crowd of heathens. Then Kaukonen steps up with the ballsiest of electric solos and we get the idea; this isn’t a blues band or a psychedelic rock band, this is some new thing altogether. “Highway Song” follows with a cosmic, hippie road song that makes one yearn for those days. Again, with great, sympathetic production by the band itself and a cast of Airplane production alumni the music finds a new path, unheard and beautiful. Side one rounds out with a 1920’s blues “99 Year Blues” which is again dominated by Creach’s soaring fiddle work and counter-culture friendly lyrics, then the beautiful “Sea Child” which combines one of Kaukonen’s best lyrics with a blitzkrieg of electric guitar and pounding bass. Kaukonen and Cassidy really do define a certain type of musical excellence and dedication to craft that has all but disappeared from the modern rock landscape.

Side two opens with the FM radio favorite “Keep on Truckin’” which never fails to liven up a party. Kaukonen’s subtle, sardonic vocal suits this tale of bad women gone worse to a tee and Creach’s mercury-like soloing makes this song come loose from the moorings of history and feel like a 1920’s juke joint - that is until Kaukonen comes in with one of his most delicious talking guitar solos - wah soaked and nasty. What follows is an example of why Jorma Kaukonen is considered one of the great guitarists of rock. “Water Song” is a breathtaking acoustic instrumental, in the style of his Airplane classic “Embryonic Journey,” except fully realized with a gorgeous cascade of guitar notes flowing over Casady’s fluid, melodic bass line - it is nirvana! “Ode For Billie Dean” gives Kaukonen and Creach a chance to really wail on the album’s hardest song and one that hints at the proto-metal direction that Hot Tuna would take in the later 70’s. Rounding out the album is a song by one of Jorma’s heroes and another of his best original instrumental pieces. Reverend Gary Davis’ “Let Us Get Together Right Down Here” proves once and for all Kaukonen’s sympathy for the blues as his vocal and guitar performance are exemplary and he still makes room for signature Papa John fiddle work. “Sunny Day Strut” closes the album beautifully with acoustic and electric guitars in perfect harmony with Cassidy’s powerful bass work. It is ominous and uplifting at the same time.

Hot Tuna has continued to tour and record until the present day, and remain a vital musical experience. They have explored many styles from punk to bluegrass, but no single Tuna album strikes as many perfect notes as Burgers. When life is looking grim and it seems like no silver linings will appear, this is one album I can always count on to lift my spirits.

- Paul Epstein